Growing Closer To That Final Day When Gravity Pulls Me Under Poem by Ted Sheridan

Growing Closer To That Final Day When Gravity Pulls Me Under

Rating: 5.0


My hair has grown thick, gray and long;
covering my ears it impairs my hearing.
The stentorian voice that guided me
through life has been deafly silenced,
as if stuck in the throat of a giraffe
and being voiced over with Byelorussian elevator music…
My eyebrows have grown thick, gray and long;
covering my eyes they impair my vision.
The visual modality of both my eyes
are compromised and stigmatized
with the proprioception of a mole;
dug in and buried alive in an open coffin…
My teeth, thick with plaque and long;
restrict my tongue imprisoning my words.
Leaving any and all translations of my final thoughts
to the neuropathic weak movement of my fingers
as my remaining good five of them
hunt and peck out the final will and testament
of a man who is no longer young of heart,
but rather refuses to give up without a fight…

2008 © TS

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Ivan Donn Carswell 07 June 2008

This is a Fight? So you give UP! Surrender even. Where's the real guts of it? Geeze Ted, we're the few who are left - lets giv'em a rousing punch up the bracket at least. Oh, - okay, a well written and cleverly phrased poem which most of our members wouldn't recognise unless they confronted it adversarily in a county courthouse... Rgds, Ivan

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