Posts Tagged ‘remembrance

23
Apr
09

Room 2423

ICU #2423

By Darren King
[copyright 2009]

Here in this room
are pictures of you
and the people who love you –
you with your wife
embraced in perfect sunsets
you with your children
among the countless parks and zoos
birthdays and barbecues
shared with grandchildren who
revere you more than
Packers or Patriots.
Above these, a Cross –
Jesus in white robe,
His arms extended, His palms exposed.
Pray Father, Son and Holy Ghost.
To that misguided homily,
blessed is the womb that bore you
Jesus corrects –
blessed are they who call me family.

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15
Nov
08

James

James
By Darren King [copyright 2008]

Here in this room are pictures of you
and the people who love you –
you with your family and friends,
you and your rock band,
your team mates,
you and a beautiful girl.
I stand across from your father,
his tired eyes red and swollen,
everything I think to say
sounding so lame as when I said it
to myself in the car for practice.
When your mother sees me
she yells my name
and jumps from her chair
as if she’s been waiting,
all this after I’d been away so long
and I remembered then how openly
we discussed spiritual matters.
And here I am with her again
because of you.
She hugs me, she pulls me close,
her voice sounding the way it always had
when she smiled while talking.
I know he’s okay now,
she says hurriedly into my ear,
I know he’s okay.
She pulls me closer
as if to tell a secret,
all the while repeating herself,
I felt him three times today,
three times I felt him,
three times.

12
Oct
08

Billy, Chad and Tikki Tikki Tembo

Billy, Chad and Tikki Tikki Tembo
By Darren King [copyright 2008]

When my son’s friend peddled his bicycle out of
our neighborhood for what would be his last time
and his life forever separated from our’s,
first by distance and eventually by time,
I thought of you, Billy, and your last day in our First Grade class.

Life provides a list of sorrows and sadnesses
seemingly connected and thirty-odd years later,
I remember now, your moving away.
You displayed and dispensed
justice and had a sense of yourself

you needn’t prove to the other children.
You were a leader worthy to follow and so
I gladly played my role as your right-hand man
on the playground and in the halls of school.
I shadowed you that day in class

and was certain someone would notice
and then point out to embarrass –
the lump I could only feel in my throat.
At recess, with you and another boy
as captains, we were divided into two teams

and played one last game of kickball,
everyone else acting as if nothing
would change later that day
when the dismissal bell rang. Your empty desk
the next morning came as a surprise to me.

I don’t know why. Perhaps it was your nametag
the three-by-five index card, still taped to your desk
which wasn’t your desk anymore. And Mrs. Clancy,
with whom I was hopelessly in love, reading to us and I,
cross-legged at her feet, sat mesmerized by her story

of the Chinese boy and his family who lived in the
wonderful ink-and-wash drawings with fanciful swirls
and the bricked well, the old man sleeping, always by a tree
and the boy, always the boy, in water up to his eyes,
waiting to be noticed, waiting to be rescued.

28
Sep
08

berrying

Berrying

“When you are harvesting in your field and you overlook a sheaf, do not go back and get it. Leave it for the alien, the fatherless.” – Deuteronomy 24:19

I keep searching
hoping
to uncover some hidden truth
to glean a revelation
like the poet who stares into a painting
and awaits the spark
when all he sees are dots
acrylic and oil chaos
and randomness
like an unkind god.
But the Lord is kind
and the Lord gives and
the Lord has taken away
and it comes to me
my father’s death
three years ago this day.
His host returning
to the same earth and dust
no hidden truths
no revelations –
only a remembrance
and itchy plants
and cool earth
and strawberries sweetly
suspended in disbelief.

[copyright 2008 Darren King]




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