TO MY FATHER

Father, where are you?
I needed you to be a kiss on the cheek,
an image to grow into,
a guide clearing the way into life,
and to name the birds darting through our yard.
You gave me an emptiness I carry like a scar,
an emptiness where you should reside.
You spared me your weakness
and the pain you would have given.
I am free from your image and demands,
and that freedom is dust
lifted by the wind
and scattered.
I was something you did not want or need,
an event, a mistake, early in your life.
And you went on like nothing happened
and there were no witnesses.


Copyright 1997 David Elsey

UPSTAIRS AT RINGLER'S

Upstairs at Ringler's
the world was not a nightmare.
Every other Saturday
we library employees
would meet for drinks.
Good booze, good talk, good jokes.
A sense of shared suffering
was overcome again and again.
Of course I knew it would end.
But I wanted it to go on forever.
It was what I needed as the days raced by.
Now, as the days draw down,
I search elsewhere for what we were.


Copyright 2009 David Elsey

FOR DYLAN

A gifted poet
has written a beautiful poem
dedicated to me.
I am blessed by his talent,
he is blessed by his talent,
by God
or the random universe,
a miracle really.
All because I sent him
a short note wishing wellness,
it is amazing
what a few words can do.


Copyright 2008 David Elsey

WITNESS

I've seen victims of cruelty,
human or circumstance,
innocents attacked,
some killed,
some crippled,
and some just go numb.
You've seen them too,
so many you can't keep count.
Don't be depressed,
too many are suffering already.
Take care of yourself,
and those you can,
as the days grow dark,
as the days grow dark.


Copyright 2008 David Elsey

GRANDMA

Grandma you saved my life
when I was a boy
and living with insane uncle Johnny
made me miserable.
Those years when my neurotic mind
ate away at me,
your love was there,
your physical presence was there.
Your father was white
and your mother Creek indian,
and you a beautiful blend of both.
And the whites made you go
to their boarding school for indians,
where they tried to turn you white,
just 20 years after the Indian Wars.
From you I learned
a few words of Creek,
heard you speak
in the lovely tongue.
You raised 9 kids
and helped raise their children,
wife, mother, Grandma,
rarely leaving your home.
You cared for your insane son Johnny,
lived with him
and that pain each day
until his suicide at 47.
I bless the universe
that you lived to 103,
dying in your daughter's home,
with one of your grandchildren
laying in your deathbed with you.
From 1899 to 2002
you lit our world.
When all the tough guys died,
the football stars,
the veterans of foreign wars,
you continued,
never losing your heart,
until it stopped beating.


Copyright 2008 David Elsey

AMONG THE LIVING

The longer you live
the more death you see:
humans slaughtered in far away lands,
or on your home soil,
murdered in the name of freedom,
in the name of safety,
in the name of revenge,
or famous stars burning out,
and family and friends falling away.
Like my friend Cliff,
who died last night,
a kind, smart, guy.
A guy who knew how to have a good time,
who could laugh at his plight
as cancer cut away at him.
Each day, even at the end,
he would walk
to the coffeehouse,
and laugh, talk,
and sip good coffee,
to be among the living,
not sitting at home,
waiting to die.
That's how he went,
each day getting out there,
one more day
among the living.


Copyright 2008 David Elsey

VICTORIES

Those temporary victories
before they close the lid.
Your team wins,
the election goes your way,
you have a damn good day
for no good reason.
All of us knowing
we're all gonna lose,
the way it makes
the moment sweet.


Copyright 2008 David Elsey