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Steve McQueen...
Steve Mc Queen, we call him, he's a grand old gent
He's slightly hard of hearing and his body's bent
He don't remember me, but that is quite alright
I say my name is Guy, and click his seat-belt tight
We talk about the things we see, where he used to go
I say; Oh, is that right? But the script is one I know
He goes to church each Sunday, from the nursing home
Sometimes he lapses silent, I watch his mind go roam
He is devout, he believes, I wish I had his faith
He doesn't know, I know, his memory's just a wraith
I love to hear him talk, about those good old days of yore
Even though I've heard, the stories all before
Sometimes he surprises me, he says something new
I store it in my mind-file, so that I can do review
He talks about way back when, the things he was and did
He's told me there were woods there, when he was a kid
I know the feeling of his loss, I'm getting old myself
I just hope that when I get old, they won't put Me on the shelf
He lives a good life at the Manor, the place that he resides
But I can't help the feeling, that inside he cries
What has happened to the world, how come I'm so behind?
He just don't understand. He's lost in faulty mind
And so, each week I see him, I say; my name is Guy
I click the seat-belt firmly, and down the road we fly
About This Poem
Last Few Words: One of my taxi-fares. He does have family, and they try to let him be as independent as they can. They meet him at church every week. I was told that he died recently and I was reminded of this poem. As I looked it over, I realized that it needed a bit of editing and so I tried to fix the bobbles in it and make it smoother.
Style/Type: Structured: Western
Review Request Direction:
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft
Comments
Geezer
14 years 8 months ago
I admire...
his gentleman-like qualities. It is obvious that the nursing staff have great regard for him. The only concession that I make to dress on Sunday, is a nice shirt. I still wear my leather with the denim cut-off over it, and I have long hair. I look like a biker, with my leather hat and jeans, but we get along just fine. Yes, my heart does show, but I guess wearing it on your sleeve, is better than letting it get buried and hard. Thanks for the read and compliments. Love ya, ~ Gee
greeneyes
14 years 8 months ago
wow
As a cna of 18 years, I can relate to this poem. Powerful and beautiful.
Elizabeth
Geezer
14 years 8 months ago
I too...
worked in a nursing-home during my youth. I saw many people that were lost, and confused. I tried to pay special attention to them, if only with a kind word or two. I joked with them, and was rewarded with many smiles. I still carry them in my memories.
Thank you for being the kind of person who sees the beauty in this write. I tried hard to show that there is still a person in those shells, you just have to take the time to bring them to the fore. My sister has been a CNA for better than twenty years, in a nursing-home and another is a RN in a nursing-home. I guess it just runs in the family. Thank you, ~ Gee
Race_9togo
14 years 8 months ago
Gee
This is really good.
I like the theme a lot. I enjoy the relationship you have with this old man. It's patient and full of respectful routine that I really like, and you show it very well indeed.
In the first couplet, I would use "slightly" instead of "little", perhaps? It would mean the same, and maybe make the flow a little better without adding a syllable.
Cannot fault you on the rhymes, they're all excellent.
Bookmarked.
Geezer
14 years 8 months ago
I will make...
that change to [slightly] it does improve the flow, and not change the meaning. Routine is the mainstay of many of these elderly folk. Why not make it enjoyable? Thank you for the compliments. I truly enjoy rhyme, and although I try to expand my knowledge and expertise in other types of poetry, I feel that rhyme is my forte. Bookmarked? That is a big compliment ! ~ Gee
Candlewitch
14 years 7 months ago
Dear Sir Gee
You are a kind and caring soul with a good heart. This poem brought tears. I hope your heart never hardens and you remain as open as you are now. This is a wonderful poem in all aspects. And I don't mind that it made me cry.
love, cat
Xavier Sleuth
3 years 11 months ago
No way, dude!
You knew McQueen?!
K, your poems are awesome-
but you are RAD.
Really liked reading this.
Geezer
3 years 11 months ago
No...
his name was really not Steve McQueen, but he resembled him with those aviator-sunglasses and that was what the N.A.'s at the nursing-home called him. His name was Steve Mc-something though. I heard that he died right after I left driving taxi, a couple of years ago. He really did resemble Steve Mc Queen. So, I guess I'm not really so awesome after all, huh?
~ Geez.
.
Xavier Sleuth
3 years 11 months ago
Well . . .
Imagination makes up for the disappointments of reality - as Thal would say.
So I'll just 'imagine' along
And stick to what I said. =)
Geezer
3 years 11 months ago
Thanks for...
the vote of radicalness! ~ Geez.
.