ZIPITY-DO-DAH

I just watched an Osprey

take a five-pound skipjack

off to Never~Never land, and

as the fish was turned aero-

dynamically headfirst, I could

see the eyes of desperate fear 

turn to resignation. 

There is a funeral tomorrow,

so maybe that’s it, but the sight 

of death presented in such 

sparkling light gives me pause 

to lean back in this chair in need

of something to say, but cannot 

for the life of me think what that 

might be.

Reviews

[carl]

maybe just that we might find that same reference when the time comes. - At my dad's funeral the preacher said "unbind him and let him go" - never really understood why he chose that but in a way it was all that we could do at that point. Can't say that zipity-do-dah would have been an acceptable remark but at the same time I think it would have made me smile - enjoyed your piece of work - carl

[Vol]

Carl,
The sun comes up, the sun goes down... no matter what we do, no matter how tangled our feelings...
Vol

[emmajoygreen]

You so often write with a magic quill, pc, pencil, pen,biro type thingy and turn ugly into beautiful, sir Vol. Even in sadness, a smile needs show itself to dilute the tragic - whatever living, breathing type creature you were. As to funerals, been to too many.. as many of us have for personal reasons. Have already make it known what music will be played as I go in and go out. Clothes by those in attendance will be brighter that any palette could be and when the wake takes place it will be ten minutes silence for Heaven's sake and the rest of the time won't be restful at all, at all. If creatures four legged, two legged, feathered or finned (etc) have been sick, harmed or ripped apart by sickeness or surgery etc' they deserve their freedom plus and an impossible but easily pre-considered drink of two, three.. ad nauseum. Believe me, not being an ugly cynic, but given the chance - most would say don't grieve for me, remember the great and wonderful times we shared . Promise, have an even 'wonderfuller' time than you might have had I not inisted you do! Remember, no hats or black ties.. Ensure the venue's building has coloured windows, please - sunshine splaying beams of the all about into the indoors organ's brilliant thunder. Oops, too long, but shows what wonder comes from your story.. death has no equal but can only be better if nudged. Feel free to nudge if you can. Why not,
'three little birds' followed by morricone's wonder.

[Vol]

Joy,
Sometimes I wonder if life is as we observe it at all... sitting inside my cranium, the past behind, the future ahead every tick a distinct "something". Sometimes I think it is always there in its entirety, dumped our on the ground, a pile of ten million bits, like a jig saw... I say "My life" as though it is a whole thing and not a collection of experiences with most of the pieces gone...
Vol

[emmajoygreen]

Your words hit home but - gently.For the most I agree with you but also believe that we, as human beings have lost our natural instincts, we feel our way on many occasions rather than just 'go for it because.. ' We have become used to the norm, to be safe and allow the same from others. On occasions, however, we lose the chance of adventure and learning, we miss out what could have been and later, often sadly, regret it. But then we are Self, each and every one of us. We have rights, we have reasons. Many thanks for adding your sublime reason to my almost sublime thought! Be kind to yourself, sir Vol.

[Vol]

Joy,
Sublime is how I think of you... And your words are easy on my eyes... What a lovely tought, m'lady.
Vol

[emmajoygreen]

To be thought of is special, sir. Thank you. Sweet dreams

[Ayesha Faiz]

This really stayed with me. That image of the Osprey and the fish it’s so clear, so intense. I’ve had moments like that too, where something in nature just stops me, especially when I’m already carrying some kind of loss. The way you showed death as both brutal and strangely beautiful... it really hit you know. And that ending sitting there, trying to find words but not being able to... I’ve been there, we've all been there at some point in life because it's part of life itself. It’s such an honest, quiet kind of grief.
Appreciate you sharing this with us...

[Vol]

Ayesha,
Thank you! I understand your reaction... it is one of the most important elements of poetry, a snapshot of, sometimes beauty, sometimes truth, sometimes insight, now captured with little squiggly lines of ink on paper and preserved to help us see something new and different, taste life as a little more savory...some poems are venomous, and when you read them, nothing is ever the same...
Vol

[Betty Hermelee]

A stunning poem Vol....what to say when someone is about to pass.., even when a fish is taken away to never land.... with fear in his heart and shock in his eyes...a great metaphor for those of us on our way to the grave... or in the grave...what to say to those w
who suffer? "let them say what they want"....
is a great line... in your conversations...whatever!
Warmly, B

[Vol]

Thank you, Betty,
This one just flopped itself down on paper...fully formed... It sure has gotten a pot of attention for so little effort... see some of my comments below...
Vol

[Betty Hermelee]

sometime ideas just flop in! and this was an entertaining one and very spontaneous!
Warmly, B🌷🌷🌷🌷

[W. Barrett Munn]

Now you've done it --- become the consumate poet. Now comes the pressure to do it again and again and you'll have miles to go before you sleep.

[Vol]

Winston,
Ha! You have nailed it... you ain't reached "consummate" until you can't think of what to say...
Thank you for the consummate review!

I'm always surprised when one like this gets attention. Let me explain...
It was my bedtime and I was in the midst of my nightly ritual... took two hits off my happy little vape with some smooth indica, and a shot of whiskey so I can get more than four hours of sleep. I reach for the power button to close the computer, but a video appears and there is the osprey doing it's flawless capture... that fish must have been cruising along at the very surface because, this time the bird did not wet a feather, just snatch and go... that poor fish never saw it coming and was suddenly airborne… The Ern, the Jack and me in a profound and intimate drama... I said, "hey, I otta write this down."
I'm stoned AND had finished the nice Four Roses toddy. I try to avoid writing anything when my brain floats around and away like that, didn't edit, and stupidly POSTED it thinking "let 'em say what they want, I don't care." Gotten more reviews on this one than most I've spent hours editing... go figure.
Vol

[W. Barrett Munn]

Most poets try to attain the condition in which you avoid writing. Is there a fish there?

[W. Barrett Munn]

Btw, I only use one M in my consummates as I need the other for my last name.

[Ms claws]

Vol, Bukowski NEVER wrote until he was on that same boat. I think he was so stage fearful, he had to drink himself to a certain level. The same with his writing since he connected them so strongly. He went to many reading and the people loved it! Just thought I'd slip that in there, friend.

[Vol]

Hello
I am very familiar with Bukowski... He is a hero of mine for shutting down the flaming stupidity of the Post Moderns. His style has influenced every poet out there since the seventies, at east.... bur he IS a crybaby.
Vol.

[Ms claws]

Vol, read The Pleasures Of The Damned by Bukowski. There are only his poems in this book. Crybaby or not, he sort of reminds me of you. Read "somebody"...Somebody
god I got the sad blue blues,
this woman sat there and she
said
are you really Charles



Bukowski?




and I said

forget that


I do not feel good
I've got the sad sads
all I want to do is
f**k you
and she laughed
she thought I was being
clever
and O I just looked up her long slim legs of heaven
I saw her liver and her quivering intestine
I saw Christ in there
jumping to a folk-rock
all the long lines of starvation within me
rose
and I walked over
and grabbed her on the couch
ripped her dress up around her face
and I didn't care
rape or the end of the earth
one more time
to be there
anywhere
real
yes
her panties were on the
floor
and my c**k went in
my c**k my god my c**k went in
I was Charles
Somebody.

[Vol]

You know, I completely understand your reaction to Bukowski. He was a worker poet... five poems a day five submissions to places a day... Plain language accessible to the plumber and the scholar, too. AND a good poem stands alone poet not important, form not important, famous, not important... like who asks who cut the ruby or polished the opal... the jewel stands alone as a whole thing. You read the poem THEN worry about the other things.
Have you seen the movie "Born Unto This?"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQNVJXZNRh4

[Ms claws]

Vol, I have seen Born Into This. I cried at the sad beginning of his life but it seems miraculous how he was so blessed. Well, he did work and he worked at writing and sending his poems in. Wonder how much he spent on stamps? OH! Did you read the final lines of "somebody"...?

[Ms claws]

When Bukowski writes like that he reminds me of you...Blunt and outspoken but with such magnetism you can't stop reading even though you might get a little pissed. It sets the heart racing...something we all need.

[Vol]

I will never understand the kind of anger people like his father carry... wife beaters, child abusers... it is awful

[Ms claws]

Bukowski's mother stood by and never defended him even though his dad nearly killed him. Bukowski doesn't whine about it. This is what my research has given me. Charles Bukowski Locked In The Arms of a Crazy Life A Biography by Howard Sounes is an unbiased book on Bukowski.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and that song....so happy and positive makes for a nice irony with your title.

"my my my what a wonderful day"---I think not for the fish.

[Vol]

Jacob,
Thank you man... There in those last minutes, as my soul sails off into the ether, I hope I have the wherewithal to go out with that song on my lips...
Vol

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Those are beautiful, majestic birds...but such predators...I will try to help you come up
with a few words for the funeral...poor skipjack.

[Vol]

I fell in love with them when I lived in Florida, They would meteor themselves into the water and as they relaunched they would rise and turn their dinner into the wind... Wouldn't be a bad choice for "If you could be any animal..." All the seafood you could want, and live on the beach, too...