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Jon Willey
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Recent poems by Jon Willey
• Of Jack and Art
• No Grandee Was He
• Fall's Sortie Into Oneonta
• Twilight Rescue
• A Cay Time
• Roadies
• Near the End
• Drip Free
• The Hand of Illusion
• A Laureates Throne
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• Within My Darkness
           >> View all 211
Tabula Rasa
by Jon Willey
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Rated "G" by the Author.

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Impressions of the elderly confined to spending what little time remains to them in rest homes.


faded aqua polyester livery

clings to knotted phyllo skin

venous blue lines protrude

tissue thin lips cracked and dry

time an unflattering makeup artist

has absconded with ruby cheeks

in their place bone stretched

cutaneous tissue mimicking chalk

occasional smiles elicit fool's hope

the aura a schizophrenic blend

of serenity uncertainty abject fear

minutes tick away into days

darkness and daylight provide

no respite no relief only burden of

dealing mano a mano with uncertainty

let then this elegy leave me in peace

for one moment with a tablua rasa

 




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Reviewed by Gene Williamson 11/27/2009
From my experience, Jon, your fine talent accurately captures
the grim, depressive, shameless side of today's nursery homes
and, in too many cases, age, "where minutes tick away into [unforgiving] days." Great work, my friend. -gene.

Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 11/26/2009
Powerful write, Jon; well done!

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours! (Sick with a cold; not feeling my best. *ICK!*)

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :( *tears!*
Reviewed by John Flanagan 11/26/2009
"...time an unflattering makeup artist
has absconded with ruby cheeks"...oh God, nothing could be more vivid, or creative. You paint eloquent and clear, Jon, you understand....not just understand - you know. This is grim, serious and very fine poetry.

John
Reviewed by Liana Margiva 11/26/2009
VERY NICE!!!!!!!!!!!! Liana Margiva
Reviewed by Elisabeth Barstowe 11/26/2009
Sad and dejected. Very vividly described.
Reviewed by Ronald Hull 11/26/2009
So vividly described. I had a turkey dinner in a very fine and loving house here last Sunday. The five elderly occupants were surrounded by family for a brief celebration before slipping back into the existence you describe. That's why I favor euthanasia and a living will.

There is no character or grace in silent suffering, kept alive for the sake of living.

Ron
Reviewed by Sheila Roy 11/26/2009
Jon,
A very thoughtful piece. I worked in a nursing home for some time. You recreate that somber feel for me. Great descriptions throughout this poem. Have a happy Thanksgiving:)
Sheila
Reviewed by Walt Hardester 11/26/2009
Our tabla rasa is what it is in the beginning. Then, filled with life experiences it becomes what we are. As we reach an advanced age the tabla becomes muddled and unclear as to our recent past, but the middle times are so deeply ingrained they never leave. Hence, the residents of "rest" homes can recall 50 years ago with clarity, but yesterday is gone. Well done Jon.



Walt
Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 11/26/2009
Vividly penned - the older I get, the more I see this, the young foisting off their elderly to rest in these homes - 'rest'? Anything but. Powerful, Jon, these poignant lines - well done.

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.

Happy Thanksgiving: I'm thankful for YOU. =]
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