Terence George Craddock (Spectral Images and Images Of Light) (16 November / Westport New Zealand)
“Just a poor white man.
Yea that’s what I am.”
Ask passing travellers. Arrogant show
superior. Believe summarized they know.
“I’m (uneducated) poor white trash
they’ll tell you so.” With vipers lash.
He was a rye kinda guy
a wholesome weathered hulk.
Sorta slow kinda shy
mild mannered masculine bulk.
Issued active brain, ailing, imbecile health,
seemed at fundamental, fuddled fault.
Though tower of superlative strength
none could, corrupt or halt.
Pulpy mash. Oatmeal upstairs.
Known locally as an honest old bolt.
Throughout tireless fleeting years.
Puzzlement. Is expression. He wears.
Achievements accepted none was never rich
whole education digging ditch.
Broken, dirt poor, responsibilities none,
sober helpful; kind to everyone.
When danger threatened. Trouble struck.
First he staunchly stood. To oppose oppressive muck.
Subsistence life, only stanchion strong.
Untwisted bear, without doing wrong.
Humanities giant. Stands. Mythically acclaimed.
Above picturesque. Plains. Statue never retarded.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
Comments about this poem (Surface Appearance by Terence George Craddock (Spectral Images and Images Of Light) )
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