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Gone, Truth, Gone
“We didn’t land on Plymouth Rock, Plymouth
Rock landed on us.”--Malcolm X.
Loss is not my friend,
rather it is fungi, virus, and herpes,
an interloper and antagonist.
Many years ago
I returned to the Cascade foothills,.
but the fallen log bridge across
Ross Creek
was gone,
the trail mile markers
were gone,
the rainbow trout in the creek
were gone,
and worst of all
most of the glacier
at the foot of Mt. Stewart
was gone;
even the old feelings
of joy and accomplishment
for hiking ten miles straight up
were gone.
The sense of loss
permeated everything.
Even when I got home
I had to face the sad status quo,
whereby the truth
was gone,
civil rights
were gone,
voting rights were
nearly gone,
partisanship in government
and closeness of family,
were nearly gone,
as the strength in my legs
was gone,
the dexterity in my hands
was gone,
my libido
was gone,
even my driver’s license
was gone
and shopping
was gone,
but extremely unfortunately,
the evil,
hypocrisy,
racism,
fraud,
viciousness,
ignorance,
of Donald Trump
is not gone--
it is just
relocated.
Glenn Buttkus
Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub
13 comments:
a powerful poem of goneness in all its aspects (though our MTB prompt is to utilize epihora - consecutive endline repeats)
Laura, you gave us some leeway. In this piece, everything between comas is a line, and the repetition is self evident.
I feel the void in the "gone."
Brilliant ending. The repetition works well in this! 🥳
The repetition of gone is very effective, and you are so right, Glenn. All the evil is still there.
Glenn, why is it that so many of the good and best things pass away, yet the stink of evil permeates our environments. On the drive yesterday to the castle, the number of "fracking pump stations" I saw was alarming. One thing I did see that you will be delighted with is a large fabric Tr*mp sign by the side of the road had been vandalized and was flapping in shreds. I see the mid-state people don't play! I loved your poem as sad as it is. I cannot imagine hiking miles up!
I liked this a lot Glenn. Thought you drove your point home strong bro. I am certain Laura knows the form better’n me. I am not good with strict form — I jes writes me sum poetree… :).
I could feel your loss all the way through your poem and at the the nightmare of evil continues on even as everything else fades away!
the repetition of gone felt like deep drum beats - bam, bam, bam. and the conclusion gives me chill.
What a shame that he isn't gone! So sad to lose all of the good things and cling on to the bad. Let's hope his evil influence will soon lose power.
Gone seems to be the word of this century. Except, as you note, for all those things we can't seem to get rid of...
Bravo Glenn ... telling it exactly as it is.
Repeated so relentlessly, the word "gone" becomes onomatopoeic, ringing like a dirge. Very effective.
So much is gone across the world... the only thing that's not gone is the idolization of the golden calf-
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