The Poetry of 2013
In 2013 I wrote 5 poems.
"Poem for the New Year 2013: My Year"
© January 08, 2013 6:48-11:59 a.m. pst
This last year was a good year, I proclaimed, when it began
But this one would be better yet, prophecy led
A far far better year than most, my dictum ran
Less than two weeks in, a problem huge rears it's ugly head
Oh well, and oh crap, I'll forget obstinate negatives
Perhaps bad tidings only replace glad ones at the outset
The overwhelming mania trumps all open prerogatives
And my winning hands will surely collect the last bet
Debt will be paid (e'en as more debt is dished out)
Summer will be bright (e'en as winter tightens her grasp)
My spirit is youthful (e'en as my mirror image loses clout)
I'm still opening life's door (e'en if I'm having trouble with the hasp)
This year will be my year, and yours, for all to share
We're going on an adventure, and maybe we won't even get there
But we'll have lots of fun and we'll laugh with sheer delight
Nothing will bear witness that stamina should have to fight
This year is the year the debt will shrink, I think, I pray
This year is the year the happy gnomes and sprites come out and play
This year is the year, another year, a fresh new start
If not the year I finally find the desire which rips my heart
The play's the thing, the thing's in play, and I play with strength of soul
My year's begun, alight, undone, and doors are open wide
My health is healthy, this I know, I'm vibrant, lucky, whole
I'm getting out, around, about, and can't stay locked inside
I've danced through despair, and I've lost most of my hair
But that happened a long time ago, you see
My steps are less hesitant, altho' I throw down the stare
I shall whirl like a dervish, around the cosmic shivaree
January may be colder, By December, I shalt sure be older
But time's demons are dust, in God's power and mine I trust
My sure gait shall step o'er the storms lapping at my shore
Imprinted on my brain it says Brave New Beginnings Again or Bust
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
6:00 a.m. pst
Worn but not out
Forgotten but not gone
(as graceful as possible)
Memories fall from the band
(used to be fastened and full)
Color might not be so vibrant
still comfortable though
and still fits without a doubt
Hats hanging on racks all around
Where did I get that one?
Do I even remember anymore?
The hat on my head feels right
(but so did so many others in the long ago)
Old hats are never tossed out
they may sit farther back on the shelf
they may hide behind other hats on the rack
they may fade they might fault
they may be old hats
but they survive
as do I
if you let it be
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
May 22, 2013 9:15a.m. pdt
I met him soon after he passed an age I recently passed
I was much younger,
and felt his wisdom shine
through his smile.
He was smiling that knowing, all encompassing smile
A smile which told me he'd had a grand life
He'd enjoyed great joys
(if perhaps he suffered great traumas and loss,
nobody could know,
because his smile overcame all obstacles.)
I will never forget his smile.
Soon after we met, I lost a livelihood
He offered me another, and became not only employer,
But mentor, teacher, and friend.
He became surrogate father to my fatherless existence.
He could pave the way with reason,
and he could light the world with his smile
(Oftentimes burying my own depressions with his mirth)
He was a massive man, towering over most he encountered
He was a titan in the industry he represented
known and loved by all
Watching him in action was a joy to behold
His encouragement and joie de vivre overflowing
As I age, I hope to be as vibrant as he remained
even as the decades between us advanced.
He never grew old, only accumulated more experience
Smiling through everything
and though personal strife could rip one in his orbit nearly in twain
his smile wouldn't allow that to happen
and it never did when he was present.
He was present in my life, during almost half of it
and now he's gone.
I shall grieve his loss and I shall celebrate his influence
(and of course his smile)
What does one say about the loss of a life,
The loss of a man, and his thoughts, and his worth?
What meaning can mere words relate of ninety full years,
The culmination of a grand wonderful existence bursting forth?
The moment passes after the shock subsides
And it never really subsides, knowing even the moment
will become as months and years until we too, pass
from this mortal plane
The tears fall silently, or perhaps in a raging torrent
As the shock settles, and the moment lasts seeming forever.
The longer one lives, the more lives seem to lose their footing,
Other lives, other realities, other universes of circumstance.
One believes one is inured to death and dying after some time
And questioning "who died" becomes just another greeting
after a while
but this isn't true
Because the shock and the moment, the grief, the tears
Are always waiting around the next corner,
accompanied by the Reaper, grim as ever,
as he cuts down another life,
relaying another shock.
A friend passed into the universal consciousness this morning.
A father figure, a mentor, a hearty, hale, and jolly fellow has died.
The grand figurehead of a large and loving family
Always noticed immediately in family photos,
always ready with a hearty laugh.
The head of the family has been cut, after almost half a decade
of suffering and pain, caused when a stroke hampered him greatly
but never seemed to tarnish the eternal sheen of his sweet smile
He smiled through his incapacitance
He smiled through the trips to the doctor, the hospital stays
The relegation of his once vibrant and creative mind to the
He suffered greatly in the end, but the suffering
never seemed to appear through the smile
and now the suffering has ceased.
I will remember the extended dialogues,
the grace always given me,
His repeated pleas "Don't go yet" when
an attempt was made to leave his office.
I want to scream "Don't go yet" but it was time
In time we all have the need to go
It doesn't stop the grief, it doesn't stop our tears
He has faded from his earthly stay
leaving a large and loving family
both familial and familiar
leaving a world a bit more lonely without him
Chesire catlike, a smile
which shall never fade from memory
"the death of old age"
poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
6:07 am pdt
morning, broken, like an old cat stevens lyric
verdant, full, yet somehow mocking and satiric
in past times, hurting, yearned for health and peace
now, emerging older, wondrin' when I'll give up life's lease
scaling life's ladder, acquiring ease with age
life's book won't close yet, not finished with this page
feeling healthy, and peaceful, and really quite young
in years gone past, could hardly reach the next rung
mixing metaphors, remembring lovers, whores
waxing poetic, although with waning wobbly shores
tides turn out, the moon goes down, birdies sing in trees
yet birdsong quickly turns to hitchcockian cacophanies
gaining younger purpose as I age am I?
will losing youth arrive, no warning, as I sigh?
lifting weighty thoughts aloft on gossamer wings
a brand new marionette with scissors snipping at my strings
nightfall, in summer, fades so slow with silence
inside my head bombarding feelings collide with violence
my breath sucks scintillating clouds of free full air
and sometimes I just wonder what I'm doing here and there
poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
6:35 am pdt
Ah, listen to the the gentle strains of...
Mendelssohn? Jon Bon Jovi? Pitbull?
open air with earbuds only you can hear
bombast your boombox of yore
frightening the passersby
Stride along the beach,
ignoring the sand between your toes
marvel at the crashing waves
waving goodbye to obstinate
walk amongst the pillars of
the massive mansions of malicious intent
trying not to hear the
voices behind the walls
fall fast asleep
dreaming of tomorrows
which never arrive
boot up the corrupt computers
which byte at your
and savor your "likes"
like it means something
embrace that which matters
even as matter
is obliterated with ease
Else one can simply smile
it gets so easy that it sometimes hurts
so it's all good