Confession

waiting for death
like a cat
that will jump on the
bed

I am so very sorry for
my wife

she will see this
stiff
white
body
shake it once, then
maybe
again

"Hank!"

Hank won't
answer.

it's not my death that
worries me, it's my wife
left with this
pile of
nothing.

I want to
let her know
though
that all the nights
sleeping
beside her

even the useless
arguments
were things
ever splendid

and the hard
words
I ever feared to
say
can now be
said:

I love
you.

by Charles Bukowski

Comments (4)

Was it not fate (whose name is also sorrow) Understanding as Poe did that today's good fortune comes with a price. To be an island is to miss the romance but to find romance is to raise the stakes for loss. A quandary well understood by a man that was not speaking in speculative fiction but from dreadful first hand knowledge.
.........so beautifully penned and so poignant is this verse ★ They are my ministers- yet I their slave. Their office is to illumine and enkindle- My duty, to be saved by their bright light, And purified in their electric fire, And sanctified in their elysian fire. They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope) , And are far up in Heaven- the stars I kneel to In the sad, silent watches of my night; While even in the meridian glare of day I see them still- two sweetly scintillant Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!
A poem depicting great conflict within this master bards mind, and overall life....Love was lost too many times...His vices well indulged to numb his misery...Yet, Edgar Allan Poe stood and to this day stands alone on his very own literary tier of excellence! ~You were & in many ways still the MAN, Dr. Poe! ~Frank James Christopher Ryan, Jr.~
Beautiful.................