Thursday, December 31, 2009

Pop


The big wheel’s gone
around again -
another new year’s eve
to spend
with tuxes, ties and white balloons,
the ticking clock where
midnight looms;

I wish that I could be
impressed
with all the sequined party dress
es, champagne flowing,
deli trays,
hangovers built
to last for days;
Festive? Well, yes, I suppose,
I’ve seen the tournament
of rose and
bowl games and
counting down,
Dick Clark, Times Square,
the ball
come
down……

and then another
newer year.
Hope and Promise?
Surely,
dear,
and all the sunshine you can stand.
Forgive me, please,
but as the band
burps a boozy Auld Lang Syne
I’d just as soon
be just as fine
were it to pass as quietly
as starlight bouncing
off the sea.

Not much changes year to year
except a number
there and here.


On it spins,
indifferent
to how our days and months are spent.
The governments, both just and cruel,
lumber and proclaim
their rule while in the deepest
darkest dim of all the armored hearts
of men
any change
that may
begin
keeps no date
or time
or place.

It simply looks into
its face and deems
itself in silent
steel resolve;
to now,
to here,
to turn -
evolve.

All we need to drink and dance
is something close to
half a chance
and why not seize some grand
events to shore up shaky confidence
and new years? As good a time as any is
to believe one can keep promises
that otherwise one cannot keep.

When midnight comes
I will not sleep.

I will kiss and wish all well
to party horns and fire bells.

But in my own
reticent heart
where hope is born and
pieced from parts
of broken plans,
expired dreams,
and tiny glints from
flashlight beams,

a welcome
eyelash wish may light;
not of the new,
but of the right.

9 comments:

Karen said...

I'm with you, my fine poetic friend. Let's keep that eyelash of a hope alive!

I love the mood of the whole poem. You always say it just right, Joaquin.

I hope your tomorrows will be filled with light.

Julie said...

Fantastic poem, Joaquin! I love

"I’d just as soon
be just as fine
were it to pass as quietly
as starlight bouncing
off the sea."

Yep. I'll probably be staring at the sky tonight. No tuxes or gowns around these here parts. We usually build a campfire in the woods.

I laughed out loud at "all the sunshine you can stand." That entire stanza is awesome. A lady driving a BMW recently told me the Recession is over. Maybe it is for her. I'm a bit more cynical on that front. Haha! But still I retain my starry eyes...or at least one starry eye...for sanity's sake.

As always, your ending is a powerful one that rings with the truth. Thanks so much for sharing it here.

catvibe said...

The last stanza is the clincher. I agree with what both Karen and Julie said. And your poem just spoke my heart. Your honesty is water to my ears Joaquin. Hugs and Happy Year, may a tiny little thing become right here and there. :-)

Nevine said...

I'm sitting here with the blank comment box open in front of me and I don't know what to say, Joaquin. I could almost hear your voice, reading this. And there's no question that I have some of those very same thoughts come the holidays. Especially New Year's being "as good a time as any is to believe one can keep promises that otherwise one cannot keep." You see, I've stopped making those promises and resolutions; I never do keep them. So I know. And I know of "broken plans, expired dreams" as well. But no matter. We all have those moments and those thoughts. So let's pretend, then. It's January 1st (no pretense there) and you are alive and healthy ( I hope), so we never know what's around the bend. Hopefully, lots of good stuff. I wish that for you, Joaquin.

Nevine

RachelW said...

I wonder if cynicism is only natural as we get older. I seem to be getting more cynical and less enthusiastic every year. How do some people stay excited about stuff like this all their lives?

BloggerMouth said...

*Standing ovation*

You, Joaquin, just made my day. I have been getting "looks" from people when I told them I slept through the new year because they think that's very uncool. I really want to e-mail this poem of yours to everybody.

Something did go right for me and it is this. At least someone thinks like I do. Thank you very much for posting this, seriously.

K.Lawson Gilbert said...

But in my own
reticent heart
where hope is born and
pieced from parts
of broken plans,
expired dreams,
and tiny glints from
flashlight beams,

and this is the resolve...the splitting into constituent parts those elements which make us hope over and over again.

Wonderful, and insightful.

Aniket said...

Keep this one aside for your next novel, will you. ;)

I don't like the fact that they end but I always love your endings.

Here's one wishing for the rights to come through!

joaquin carvel said...

hi all - sorry for the auto-post - had to take a week to clear my head a bit. but hope this is a happy and heartening new year for everyone!

karen - there is always light - some days more than others - but the comments left by you and others are always bright spots. thank you.

julie - i guess if you can drive a bmw the recession is relative. i work near some high-end dealerships and am amazed at what people are driving off the lot these days. anyway, i think you're right - one starry eye, at least, means we're still looking up. thank you.

cat - :) thank you - seems a few already have!

nevine - i am indeed alive and well - :) - and that may be where the real hope comes from - never knowing what's around the corner. thank you.

rachel - i'm not sure. mostly i think people just love to party. which is fine i guess - i just think other people decide to live their lives rather than trying to escape them.

blo-mo - *grateful bow* - thank you - actually i wrote this a few years ago, but i feel it more now than i did then. i'm glad it went right for you - we do get "looks", but we're not alone.

k - so great to hear from you! thank you - that's exactly it, though you articulated it better than i would have.

aniket - oh, to have the disipline and attention span to write a novel. maybe the fact that i usually feel i need to have an ending means there is a fiction writer in me somewhere? anyway, thank you - and may you find all "rights" this year!