I’VE SEEN…
Having early on taken the road less traveled
I have come, many decades later,
to understand that
the road,
any traveled road has an ending.
It is inconceivable to me now
how god damned young I was once.
I spent my life winding living into a ball,
now I am done and it unwinds too slowly.
The forests and glades do not care.
They remain hidden, unchanged
but I was so god damn young
when I set myself there among them.
Allowing whatever fell from the sky fall,
to land where it would, I was not concerned.
I was so god damned young
nothing could harm me, hurt me, curse me.
Now that I feel so god damned and tired,
close to the door that opens
no matter what road taken.
I am so god damned broken, powerless.
I will have no marker
but these god damned words
And the city streets and high rise buildings,
forest trees and hidden clear streams
now meant for someone else will not care.
© M Durfee
2.19.2016
Your words, here and in books, are better than any stone marker! I, too, am feeling a little weary these days as I hobble around on my one good leg.
ReplyDeleteWhat is the matter with your leg Jeff, don't tell me neuropothy! Weary is a good word, I interchange it with anger.
DeleteSometimes I wonder if I was ever young, at least in certain ways. In others, yeah, damn young.
ReplyDeleteCharles last night I was trying to compose something in my mind (not the above piece I worked on that for a couple of weeks) about my childhood and the memories of it--couldn't come up with a damn thing to remember worth writing about. I think I was born on DD 829 operating a radar scope in the North Atlantic--young once but never could understand the song Forever Young.
DeleteOur life, what we did, what we felt, is important to us, and us alone. We do not leave a mark, we are very transient on this planet. Your footsteps erode. I come back to this one often....
ReplyDeleteIt is a near freeing experience to finally fully face impermanence and mortality and not really care Shadow. Someone may care for the things i have done but who they are probably are only them named in my will if there is a check involved.
DeleteWhere i'm at right now, these words sound so much like a warning that it's scary. But where i'm at right now, whenever i see something scary i walk straight to it. I think you understand that, right? Because your words resonate with me for sure. Thank you so much :)
ReplyDeleteYash--hell yeah man I understand walking straight into the scary--I have found though that if i am scarier than the scary it helps quite a bit. I believe in always being the unknown quantity, when my face should reflect fear, I shoot for laughter or joy. It sounds crazy I know but what the hell, this is how life here works: Fear nothing and everything will fear you. *meh* i have lived my life and will continue on doing so but I am too old to start doing it on someone elses terms.
DeleteDo you really think you're done?
ReplyDeleteI certainly hope not.
Jean done? Hmmmmm not done as in finished but done as in I doubt I will find very much more to be truly interested in. This place and living in it for so long has worn me down as the oceans do the cliffs.
Deleteawesome words!
ReplyDeleteWhy thank you Justin--I think you can relate a bit to the undercurrents.
DeleteFeeling your mortality, eh? You are actually lucky to have survived long enough to feel it. But then, you already know that.
ReplyDeleteI've been feeling my vulnerability and mortality since I was in grade school. The spectral door doesn't bug me that much anymore; though I'd rather stay on this side while I still have things to do.
Oh Alice, I have felt my mortality from the first time ten guys had me on the ground kicking the shit out of me, or the first time someone put a gun in my face. I was much younger then--no I quit caring about death of the body a long time ago, i hate the death of my cognition as i once knew it to be.
DeleteI love the intensity and power running through these verses. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteGreetings from London.
ACIL--yes that's me intense and powerful. Say, you by chance wouldn't want to buy one of those bridges in London would you. Truth is I am weak and powerless, drifting on the ebb tide.
DeleteYou are still not done Mark ~ I think with time, we just chose the words and journeys wisely, I hope ~ Have a good week ~
ReplyDeleteGrace, my dear friend of lovely thoughts and kindness--I can't see but one last journey left me, maybe i have lost ambition or direction or just been in this prison for too long to even consider a parole. *meh* The life part of living seems to have wound down and out.
DeleteHi Mark. A long time since my visit here. Life is never done until you have walked through that door and you are still not yet there. I will always like your writing. You are always to the point and tell it like you see it..or feel it. I have been at that point of anger and now I am just trying to figure out how my path has changed. Had emergent open heart surgery last year and thought I was done but the door closed and here I am...go figure. But changes are life so I venture on. I wish you well and hope life has many more open doors with the things you hope for on the other side. Take care.
ReplyDeleteRenee--i am happy you made it through the procedure (love that word now eh?) In fine shape. I have been in the clutches of the medical industry and every time I think I am getting away they find a reason to pull me back in--I am simply tired of having to remake myself or adapt to what I can not control and the doors--once i saw a hallway stretching to infinity just full of doors and each not labeled but full of promise...man i opened up as many as i could--won some, lost some but the funny thing is those damn labels always meant something other than what i understood the word to mean. Now i just want a joint, a fifth of liquor, a carton of cigarettes and a cushion to sit down in the hallway and wait for a door to open with no effort from me. course i don't drink, or smoke weed but at least i have a dream left me.
Deleteweariness erodes everything around it. i know how you feel, mark, and why. and yet you write things like this and i feel protected by the sheer authenticity of what you say. i think we're about the same age: this year i can feel my body foretelling where i will have problems. and sometimes I'm just tired. but i have years of living to do still (i hope) and you do too. don't be thinking about going anywhere. i like you here!
ReplyDeletethis poem is beautiful, mark, in every melodic way.
love
kj
kj, this poem is number 300 sitting here on the blog, over the past ten years i have archived at least ten times that amount, I think i will leave this track of breadcrumbs just sit--if fr no other reason than to offer you a wall to be protected by. Kiddo bodies wear out--mine is doing just fine for a person who has broken near as many bones as i have brain cells left me now--my liberation is not found in the prescribed pain meds but rather in the not paying much mind to a future that from here looks similar to my last two decades--I am going, one day or night or early morning-evening. Not going to hasten the process but then i am not going to rage against the coming of the night either--foolish is the man who knows death comes for all but spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about it.
DeleteOne thing's for certain, they will not care.
ReplyDeleteIf i have any cash left when i die or my wife dies after me, there will be some who care. Tax free money man who doesn't love that shit Carleton?
DeleteKeep an eye out for those surprises.
ReplyDeleteGoatman--the only surprise that will surprise me is if I ever am surprised by anything again.
Delete