Poem By Tony Jennett

Falling asleep all the time - that's expected
But I see the bag's gone that cries tears
In my arm. But the fire in my chest is not resurrected
And that for days? weeks? was the sum of my fears

A death-watch bug ticking under my pillows
Has jabbed in me somewhere a plastic proboscis
And now I am drunk midst the softest of billows
And sinking ---sinking Hey! Hold yer hosses!

So weak and so tired I can't move a muscle
But I'll struggle and fight off this torpor by thunder
With every last breath, every last blood corpuscle
Sod the softest of billows! I'm not going under! ----

----Sweet summer sunshine slides in through the curtain
To silhouette softly sweet daffodils blithe
There's no unlit corner to hide; that's for certain;
The bearded old man with his hourglass and scythe---

Quiet music somewhere -- Haydn? ---Beethoven?
Bach's 'Wachet Auf' on a faint organ blowing?
Doesn't matter. One crystalline theorem is proven
You finally fade away-- not -- even---knowing --

Comments about Departure

Very moving poem. I hope it is this peaceful when we go. Sincerely, Mary

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Other poems of JENNETT


I scour the cottage for signs of past presence
L ike a famished orphan at the erstwhile site
O f a long-spilled rice-sack, grubbing some essence,
V estige of sustenance. Hope gutters fitfully not quite

A Muse Whispers

A Muse whispers
and the soul's pricked-up, hand cupped ear
strains hard to catch each syllable
wafting over memory's embers


Die woman! Please! Just give up and die.
Your tangled life-line warps my strangled dissembling smile.
Juggernaut logic tears my tortured bowel:
Says you must go. And this I must hide away?

To The Over-Tender

The mind and heart sustain contusions
By jumping to the wrong conclusions
And intellect, perhaps, divines
Too much by reading twixt the lines


Moaning its broken-voiced bull-with-a-hangover wail,
Blinking its tired dim rheumy bloodshot eye


So, hello vertigo! Bane of other's lives not mine.