I Am Not Yet Done Poem by Seamus O' Brian
I Am Not Yet Done
Those swaying trees who bear
the turning of the seasons wordlessly,
unlike me, for I have passed into
this season where my heart has aged
much slower than my reflection;
my soul yet smoldering with some
remnant flame of youth,
much more so than the
contraption wielding it.
Reality coerces me to gather
my bags and move along now.
In this tale of romance and adventure,
swash-buckling and daring-do,
we have no role suitable for you
Please, now, sir, here you forgot
this bag, and- oh, there- something
seems to have fallen out, some
expired dream, some dormant
aspiration that will be useless
to you now, for sure, but here,
take it with you
and kindly move along.
Next door there is casting
for bridge players and golf cart
chauffeurs and gentlemen
in tweed jackets who sip their
coffee with pursed lips as the
riotous colors of life dance by
and the incense of romance
burning inside puffs a final plume
but you will never notice
because you are squinting
at the check, calculating the
tip with the precision
of an undertaker.
'NO, DAMMIT ALL! !
I WILL NOT BUDGE!
And I'll spill my dreams
all over this stage, right where
I stand! ' defies my soul.
But no one hears
the cry of a soul, for they're
far too occupied moving along
the well-defined lines
on the floor, in accord
with the script, previously approved
and not to be altered,
and certainly not improvised.
So I stand here, one hand
on my bag, one hand
on the door, and my fingers
brush lightly over the edges
of this one dream that
I will not surrender.
And the tree branches
silently wave
at the coming of winter,
but I am not yet done.
The topic among many of us of a certain age (smiles) . OR things your parents never told you about life although, in their defense, they were, no doubt, as surprised as we are. A close friend died recently, and one of the last things she said to me was: I am not done, yet. I still have some dancing to do. So, now I dance every day. For her-and myself. Well done. thanks.
Hello Seamus! Long time since I checked on you. Lovely poem this, expressing thoughts I can identify with. Probably because we are close in age... Funny, I wrote something similar today. You might enjoy it - Sitting on the wall between life and death. I also enjoyed your sometimes when the internet's down poem, but PH wouldn't let me comment. Laurie
NO, DAMMIT ALL! ! I WILL NOT BUDGE! And I'll spill my dreams all over this stage, right where I stand! ' defies my soul.- - - - - - Spill your dreams- - -Marvelous depiction of your spirit- - - Thanks for sharing.
neal, i am right with you throughout this poem. you have succeeded, where i have not yet, in putting to verse the feelings and circumstances described in it. a good poem. o how i know my soul yet smoldering with some remnant flame of youth. i have accepted it as part of my wiring but know to be choosy in acting on its dictates. a positive view is that it tells me i'm not dead yet. the stage image puts macbeth's tomorrow and tomorrow... speech in mind. some of the feeling the opening to ecclesiastes. the trees psalms 1 and 92. your poem reminds me to pack light. glen
Mesmerizing! I swear, there is nothing you can't do with poetry! This is a play like Death of a Salesman, this is a heroic epic performed by a dear aging man, this is verse rolling in like a tide to touch our hearts and soul.... NO, DAMMIT ALL! ! I WILL NOT BUDGE! And I'll spill my dreams all over this stage, right where I stand! defies my soul.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Tell that soul that we hear, we listen, we heed and we need his defiance to lead us in this fight for rightful recognition. You know what would be better than this? This in a whole book of your poetry beside my bed.... all published.... nice sturdy cover... built for heavy duty handling as pages are read and reread..... :)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/18/2024 4:42:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A fascinating read Seamus it give one so much food for thought. The way you have life playing out like a pre-scripted play and only the brave will deviate from it. Lovely write. Annette.
Thank you, Annette! So good to be back, if only for a few moments, and to find friends still about. This one came off a napkin whilst waiting for a tyre change, and a small cloud of frustration as is evident. Have a lovely weekend! :) S