Vincent is Dying

This is a piece I wrote when I was in despair. A melancholia night, my son on my mind, my soul at unrest. The wine flowed, the empty bottles rolled across my lonely chamber floor. My heart wept for the loss, thus I penned.

 

He drank with Hank on the streets of Main

and took the drug that gave him courage

to live a day longer and fought in

the back with vermin and thugs.

 

Who bloodied his knuckles as

bar flies looked on in disgust

and found himself laying in the

gutter at the break of dawn

sometimes with nothing on

that wasn’t stolen from his soul.

 

So let the music end as the story

closes and the shutters of my life

cast out the light and bring in

the darkness that settles on

my grave, remember that I lived

that I shared and cared for my

children that abandoned me

and left me to the bottles that

lay empty upon my studio floor.

 

No more shall Vincent share

he departs and crosses over

to the other side of life and leaves

no legacy that is worth a paupers throne.

 

The Kings and Queens will say that

this jester was a mockery to their

court and spilled his ink on blind

eyes who rejected him as simply

a poet who knew not what he scribed.

 

Farewell to Vincent let his soul

flutter and wander in the mist of

shallow graves beneath the

marker of his Muse who buried

there knew he would join him soon.

 

His heart fails, his tears fall

yet there she waits on the other

side of the bridge of tears with

her arms open to receive him

Vincent you have arrived and

the journey was not in vain.

 

You left your mark, your Quill

is silent now and falls to your

studio floor in memory of

you.

 

Adieu my passionate poet your

soul is set free.

 

© Copyright 2012 by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved

 


Comments

Vincent is Dying — 18 Comments

    • Thank you Gerry, I have 4 children as well, 3 of which are estranged, I weep for my loss and theirs. A mother who poisoned their young minds many years ago against their daddy. I live with my pain daily dear poet, may they not stand over my grave and weep in sorrow and loss and say these words. “we are sorry dad” but I fear that will be the case my friend.

      • I’m in the midst of discovering my estranged son’s two grown children and learning that my son is still bitter and dominated by his father. He has repeated his dad’s treatment of me toward his behavior toward his own wife of 36 years, who is just now summoning courage to talk to me – as has been forbidden all those years. She is getting the truth from me and I’m learning the missing facts in this 41 year interim from her. My grandchildren didn’t even know I existed till they were 12 or so, then were not permitted to ask about me. Didn’t know my name till a year ago, but began to find my website and hubpages and saw that the facts they had heard about me didn’t FIT. They began to contact me on FB back in February and called me and talked a long time 2 days ago. I talked a long time on the phone to their mother today. It’s so miraculous – and still so sad for them – I’m reeleing. But you must never give up!!

        • Yes I’m so glad to here about all of this, I sent you a reply to your email the other day, extending my happiness to you. It’s all just a matter of time now for your meeting, you’ve talked, now the up front and in your face is about to happen. Its so sad that your grandchildren were told to not ever contact you by their father your son, the bitterness was obviously so deep within his heart and soul. I hope he comes around to and realizes that love is paramount and without it everyone suffers in the end. Hugs

    • Yes indeed hang in there tiger, I’m happy for you and all your family to finally come to their senses. United ye all will be and the sharing and love will blossom. I await my day of reunion as well, hopefully it will come in time. Hugs

    • Thank you my dear poet, it did that night, I felt miserable, alone, lost, angry. The flow of emotions almost drowned this dying poet, the wine I drank and the sorrow I felt brought on by my oldest son ignoring his father, avoiding me, staying away. It all hurt so bad, I felt like I was dying, so I penned.

  1. i love you Vincent and i adore your poetry – altho, this makes me so, so sad! I rarely speak of it and could never write of it, but , my firstborn- my daughter whom i was told to abort for my own safety – also will not speak with me. I have tried everything and finally – have stopped! I have an amazing and loving son. I am blessed in so many ways, and so are you!
    I feel your pain deeply and am here in support of you my friend!

    • Thank you for loving me dear Leslie and enjoying my work as dark as it appears. I am so sorry to read of your estrangement with your daughter, I am estranged from 3 of my 4 children, 2 daughters and oldest son. My youngest son Matt who just turned 20 has stood by his father all his life. I am so happy that you have your bond with your son. Yes Leslie I am blessed in many ways, I thank god that I have the little I have, the gift to write, the love for most people and all animals. I simply will continue to pen my thoughts as they come forth, I am inspired by so much around me and the things I see and people I meet. Thank you for being my friend. Hugs

      • Vincent…..You are easy to love. Your words touch my heart in various and profound ways…each time I read them. I see that “Matt” gives his love and loyalty, where the others refuse….and he feels the bond and peace the others cannot feel. Matt is his father’s son with no question…….Therefore, He has found the answer. Love, Paula

        • Well thank you for saying that Paula. I wish others felt the same way, love is a very strong word, coming from someone like you I fully wrap my heart and soul around it. I’m also delighted to read that my words touch you dear writer, I’m encouraged to continue writing, a writer is always moved by his audience, you my dear have followed my work often and I am so appreciative of you.Yes Matt is the only one of my 4 children I have a bond with, that won’t be broken, I am thankful that love comes from one of them, the rest I will never receive it. My grave will be walked over by them and they will question why? Why did we keep ourselves so distant from this man, our father buried here. I have more love from readers and close friends than I will ever receive from family. Hugs to you sweet Paula and I too send love from this poet.

    • Thank you VictoriaLynn, I hope your right and my children do surface some day. I am so happy to hear of Nellieanna’s blessing, she has waited a life time and deserves it so badly. I wait. hugs.

    • Thank you Veronica, this is a write I posted last year at the Hubs, it was a hellish night. I’ve removed it and placed it on my own site, along with most of my poetry here. I am happy to have recovered from that insane nightmare. hugs

  2. Vincent I can’t even begin to imagine the depth of your pain…while I could never claim to have my two marriages as all sunshine and roses, one thing made my life a joyful journey…my children . without my three sons, life would’ve been unbearable long long ago…. Whenever I read your poetry there’s never a time you fail to touch my heart…and I wish we could somehow touch yours and make the shadows a little less dark and overwhelming. Love and hugs, dear Vincent…

    • Dotti your kind words move my heart and soul. The evening I penned this poem, Vincent felt like dying, he was lost, confused and drunk. He thought per chance his oldest son would finally communicate with him, but Vincent waited in vain, the phone never rang, just the pain of not hearing my estranged sons’ voice. I survived my dear poet and I remain sad, yet I move on with my life, day by day, putting one foot in front of the other, taking one breath at a time. Hugs

Leave a Reply