Enter Without So Much As Knocking Poem by Donald Bruce Dawe

Enter Without So Much As Knocking

Rating: 4.5

Memento, homo, quia pulvis es, et in pulverem reverteris.

Blink, blink. HOSPITAL. SILENCE.
Ten days old, carried in the front door in his
mother's arms, first thing he heard was
Bobby Dazzler on Channel 7:
Hello, hello hello all you lucky people and he
really was lucky because it didn't mean a thing
to him then...
A year or two to settle in and
get acquainted with the set-up; like every other
well-equipped smoothly-run household, his included
one economy-size Mum, one Anthony Squires-
Coolstream-Summerweight Dad, along with two other kids
straight off the Junior Department rack.

When Mom won the
Luck's-A-Fortch Tricky-Tune Quiz she took him shopping
in the good-as-new station-wagon (£ 495 dep. at Reno's).
Beep, beep. WALK. DON'T WALK. TURN
the congestion here just gets (beep)
worse every day, now what the (beep beep) does
that idiot think he's doing (beep beep and BEEP).

However, what he enjoyed most of all was when they
went to the late show at the local drive-in, on a clear night
and he could see (beyond the fifty-foot screen where
giant faces forever snarled screamed or make
incomprehensible and monstrous love) a pure
unadulterated fringe of sky, littered with stars
no-one had got around to fixing up yet: he'd watch them
circling about in luminous groups like kids at the circus
who never go quite close enough to the elephant to get kicked.

Anyway, pretty soon he was old enough to be
realistic like every other godless
money-hungry back-stabbing miserable
so-and-so, and then it was goodbye stars and the soft
cry in the corner when no-one was looking because
I'm telling you straight, Jim, it's Number One every time
for this chicken, hit wherever you see a head and
kick whoever's down, well thanks for a lovely
evening Clare, it's good to get away from it all
once in a while, I mean it's a real battle all the way
and a man can't help but feel a little soiled, himself,
at times, you know what I mean?

Now take it easy
on those curves, Alice, for God's sake,
I've had enough for one night, with that Clare Jessup,
hey, ease up, will you, watch it -

Probity & Sons, Morticians,
did a really first-class job on his face
(everyone was very pleased) even adding a
healthy tan he'd never had, living, gave him back for keeps
the old automatic smile with nothing behind it,
winding the whole show up with a
nice ride out to the underground metropolis
permanent residentials, no parking tickets, no taximeters
ticking, no Bobby Dazzlers here, no down payments,
nobody grieving over halitosis
flat feet shrinking gums falling hair.

Six feet down nobody interested.

Blink, blink. CEMETERY. Silence.

Deepak Kumar Pattanayak 04 December 2017

The man who was once a legendary and notable to many is now six feet down in eternal home seems interested to nobody...........this is the way of life.......very touching and excellently crafted.........thanks for sharing

3 2 Reply
Kumarmani Mahakul 04 December 2017

Such an interesting write. Beautiful poem shared. Thanks and congratulations for POD.

3 2 Reply
Sylvia Frances Chan 04 December 2017

First of all CONGRATS for your Poem of the DAY, dear Bruce. I have enjoyed a very lot this breath-taking poem. A 10 for this powerful poem. Thank you for sharing. Sincerely, Sylvia Frances Chan from the Netherlands.

3 2 Reply
Dr Antony Theodore 24 May 2020

even adding a healthy tan he'd never had, living, gave him back for keeps the old automatic smile with nothing behind it, winding the whole show up with a nice ride.. very fine poem indeed. tony

1 0 Reply
Joe Eckley 23 December 2017

Wow, no talent and a low IQ.

4 14 Reply
David 09 October 2019

so very sorry to hear that of you, but continue reading poetry, it may help broaden your awareness

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me haha 13 March 2019


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Savita Tyagi 04 December 2017

Very dramatic expressions! Congratulation for being on member poem place.

3 2 Reply
Bharati Nayak 04 December 2017

Life rises from silence to experience all the bleeps and buzz, the heightened movements and hustle -bustle and lastly goes back to a place where there is complete SILENCE.A profound write, thanks for sharing.

4 3 Reply
Bernard F. Asuncion 04 December 2017

Such a profound poem by Donald Bruce Dawe👍👍👍

3 3 Reply
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Donald Bruce Dawe

Donald Bruce Dawe

Melbourne / Australia
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