"Poem for the New Year 2013: My Year"
© January 08, 2013 6:48-11:59 a.m. pst

 

 

This last year was a good year, I proclaimed, when it began
But this one would be better yet, prophecy led
A far far better year than most, my dictum ran
Less than two weeks in, a problem huge rears it's ugly head

Oh well, and oh crap, I'll forget obstinate negatives
Perhaps bad tidings only replace glad ones at the outset
The overwhelming mania trumps all open prerogatives
And my winning hands will surely collect the last bet

 
Debt will be paid (e'en as more debt is dished out)
Summer will be bright (e'en as winter tightens her grasp)
My spirit is youthful (e'en as my mirror image loses clout)
I'm still opening life's door (e'en if I'm having trouble with the hasp)

This year will be my year, and yours, for all to share
We're going on an adventure, and maybe we won't even get there
But we'll have lots of fun and we'll laugh with sheer delight
Nothing will bear witness that stamina should have to fight

This year is the year the debt will shrink, I think, I pray
This year is the year the happy gnomes and sprites come out and play
This year is the year, another year, a fresh new start
If not the year I finally find the desire which rips my heart

The play's the thing, the thing's in play, and I play with strength of soul
My year's begun, alight, undone, and doors are open wide
My health is healthy, this I know, I'm vibrant, lucky, whole
I'm getting out, around, about, and can't stay locked inside

I've danced through despair, and I've lost most of my hair
But that happened a long time ago, you see
My steps are less hesitant, altho' I throw down the stare
I shall whirl like a dervish, around the cosmic shivaree

January may be colder, By December, I shalt sure be older
But time's demons are dust, in God's power and mine I trust
My sure gait shall step o'er the storms lapping at my shore
Imprinted on my brain it says Brave New Beginnings Again or Bust

 

​

 

"Old Hat"

Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

02/19/13

6:00 a.m. pst

 

 

Worn but not out

Forgotten but not gone

Aging gracefully

(as graceful as possible)

Memories fall from the band

(used to be fastened and full)

Color might not be so vibrant

still comfortable though

and still fits without a doubt

 

Hats hanging on racks all around

Where did I get that one?

Do I even remember anymore?

The hat on my head feels right

(but so did so many others in the long ago)

 

Old hats are never tossed out

they may sit farther back on the shelf

they may hide behind other hats on the rack

they may fade they might fault

they may be old hats 

but they survive

as do I

if you let it be

 

 

 

"His Smile"
Poetry by Michael F. Nyiri
May 22, 2013 9:15a.m. pdt

 

 

​

I met him soon after he passed an age I recently passed
I was much younger, 
and felt his wisdom shine 
through his smile.
He was smiling that knowing, all encompassing smile
A smile which told me he'd had a grand life
He'd enjoyed great joys
(if perhaps he suffered great traumas and loss,
nobody could know, 
because his smile overcame all obstacles.)
I will never forget his smile.

 

Soon after we met, I lost a livelihood
He offered me another, and became not only employer, 
But mentor, teacher, and friend.

 

He became surrogate father to my fatherless existence.
He could pave the way with reason,
and he could light the world with his smile
(Oftentimes burying my own depressions with his mirth)

 

He was a massive man, towering over most he encountered
He was a titan in the industry he represented
known and loved by all 
Watching him in action was a joy to behold
His encouragement and joie de vivre overflowing
As I age, I hope to be as vibrant as he remained
even as the decades between us advanced.

 

He never grew old, only accumulated more experience
Smiling through everything
and though personal strife could rip one in his orbit nearly in twain
his smile wouldn't allow that to happen 
and it never did when he was present.

 

He was present in my life, during almost half of it 
and now he's gone.

 

I shall grieve his loss and I shall celebrate his influence
(and of course his smile)

 

What does one say about the loss of a life,
The loss of a man, and his thoughts, and his worth?
What meaning can mere words relate of ninety full years,
The culmination of a grand wonderful existence bursting forth?

​

The moment passes after the shock subsides
And it never really subsides, knowing even the moment
will become as months and years until we too, pass
from this mortal plane

 

The tears fall silently, or perhaps in a raging torrent
As the shock settles, and the moment lasts seeming forever.

 

The longer one lives, the more lives seem to lose their footing,
Other lives, other realities, other universes of circumstance.
One believes one is inured to death and dying after some time
And questioning "who died" becomes just another greeting
after a while

 

but this isn't true
Because the shock and the moment, the grief, the tears
Are always waiting around the next corner,
accompanied by the Reaper, grim as ever,
as he cuts down another life, 
relaying another shock.

 

A friend passed into the universal consciousness this morning.

 

A father figure, a mentor, a hearty, hale, and jolly fellow has died.
The grand figurehead of a large and loving family
Always noticed immediately in family photos, 
always smiling 
always ready with a hearty laugh.

 

The head of the family has been cut, after almost half a decade 
of suffering and pain, caused when a stroke hampered him greatly
but never seemed to tarnish the eternal sheen of his sweet smile

 

He smiled through his incapacitance
He smiled through the trips to the doctor, the hospital stays
The relegation of his once vibrant and creative mind to the 
shadows 

He suffered greatly in the end, but the suffering 
never seemed to appear through the smile
and now the suffering has ceased.

 

I will remember the extended dialogues, 
the grace always given me,

His repeated pleas "Don't go yet" when 
an attempt was made to leave his office.

 

I want to scream "Don't go yet" but it was time
In time we all have the need to go

It doesn't stop the grief, it doesn't stop our tears
He has faded from his earthly stay
leaving a large and loving family
both familial and familiar
leaving a world a bit more lonely without him
and
leaving,
Chesire catlike, a smile
which shall never fade from memory

 

 

 

"the death of old age"

poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

06/27/13

6:07 am pdt

 

morning, broken, like an old cat stevens lyric

verdant, full, yet somehow mocking and satiric

in past times, hurting, yearned for health and peace

now, emerging older, wondrin' when I'll give up life's lease

 

scaling life's ladder, acquiring ease with age

life's book won't close yet, not finished with this page

feeling healthy, and peaceful, and really quite young

in years gone past, could hardly reach the next rung

 

mixing metaphors, remembring lovers, whores

waxing poetic, although with waning wobbly shores

tides turn out, the moon goes down, birdies sing in trees

yet birdsong quickly turns to hitchcockian cacophanies

 

gaining younger purpose as I age am I?

will losing youth arrive, no warning, as I sigh?

lifting weighty thoughts aloft on gossamer wings

a brand new marionette with scissors snipping at my strings

 

nightfall, in summer, fades so slow with silence

inside my head bombarding feelings collide with violence

my breath sucks scintillating clouds of free full air

and sometimes I just wonder what I'm doing here and there

 

 

 

 

"Or Else"

poetry by Michael F. Nyiri

06/27/13

6:35 am pdt

 

Ah, listen to the the gentle strains of...

Mendelssohn? Jon Bon Jovi? Pitbull?

open air with earbuds only you can hear

 

Or,

bombast your boombox of yore

frightening the passersby

 

Or,

Stride along the beach,

ignoring the sand between your toes

marvel at the crashing waves

waving goodbye to obstinate 

purposelessness

 

Or, 

walk amongst the pillars of

the massive mansions of malicious intent

trying not to hear the 

voices behind the walls

 

Or,

fall fast asleep 

dreaming of tomorrows 

which never arrive

 

Or,

boot up the corrupt computers

which byte at your 

insignificant existence

and savor your "likes"

like it means something

 

Or,

Ignore

this,

and

embrace that which matters

even as matter

is obliterated with ease

 

Or,

 

Else one can simply smile

it gets so easy that it sometimes hurts

so it's all good​