C. Cory Spencer
C. Cory Spencer Poems
The man, aged beyond years
gently pats his son's hand.
Feels burning heat of fevers.
Flush skin sweating streams just
...
A clean sheet of paper,
or a dirty torn scrape.
What shall I tender,
what in creation tap?
...
This is it, not then, not later, now!
Do not worry the past like a bone,
...
who are They of the mysterious, ubiquitous, self-righteous They?
who are They of the theorized, despised, allegedly organized They?
who are They of evil deeds, that crush our needs, and scoff at our pleas?
...
I once saw the man I would be,
then I lost him in the crowd.
Forgotten, until today, when
I saw me, across the street
...
have you ever seen an image,
on tv, or in a book, or maybe the inter
net, an image so disturbing it made you cry?
...
The Best Poem Of C. Cory Spencer
Light's Eyes Dim
The man, aged beyond years
gently pats his son's hand.
Feels burning heat of fevers.
Flush skin sweating streams just
yesterday's stage, today's touch too,
too Hot, dry no sweat, lips cracked.
Tomorrow's final symptom lukewarm
to cooling, cool, cold... tic, ticking.
'Daddy, daddy...' fingers barely grasping.
A father's eyes well toward response,
'Just hang on my young one, '
he whispers to his only living son,
'the Americans are coming'
'Yes daddy, then I'll be better, right? '
tearful father's rough throated response,
'Yes my son, when the Americans come.'
Today we lost Einstein, or was it
Beethoven? maybe it was
Leonardo or Shakespeare,
or did Gandhi disappear?
perhaps...
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4/25/2024 8:14:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
