the dozens of living swans
seem amazingly like the real ones
I know from Disney
from plastic and concrete in the old woman’s yard
from childhood picture books
I had never seen a real swan
aren’t they supposed to be in a lake
don’t their necks form hearts?
where is the music
the symphonic swell?
And here they are digging for slugs in a field
they are lovely
but not like the real cartoon.
The snow tufted evergreen trees
seem amazingly like the real ones
I know from childhood holidays
they look green
they look cone-shaped
and they are even flocked!
I had never seen a real living tree
with actual snow
with green needles
the shape isn’t as perfect
as our artificial tree was.
Yet here they are laden with snow
thousands of living trees
but not like the real Christmas ones.
My actual wife
seems almost like a real woman
I know from magazines
from movies and television
from adolescent fantasies
I never had a real woman with me
wasn’t I supposed to chase her at the last minute thorugh the airport?
somehow our arguments don’t seem as funny as the TV ones.
who knew it would go on for 20 years?
Here she is and she loves me
the feel of her real lips
is like nothing I could have imagined.
My life my day to day existence
seems very different not at all like
the real lives I know
the action hero lives
the buff and brilliant shirtless guys
the rich and powerful who never work.
At a certain point
all my potential
had to become a real decision
in a real house/job/marriage/friendship
Here I am laden with history and mistakes and successes
none of which have I ever seen
in the life of a celebrity.
The philosopher steps out
has a look
with a look
of astonishment
steps back in
arms waving
feet stomping
yelling
screaming
threatening
scolding
wooing
singing talking crying laughing
the crowd
irritated and interrupted
turns and twists
to see the flickering shadows
on the wall.
Jim, I landed on your blog from a FB post of Betty's. In my opinion your poem is uplifting, thought provoking and simply amazing! Thank you for sharing. I was lucky enough to have Betty as a teacher in elementary school, and remember how much she always talked of you in class. Knowing her meant knowing you. Congratulations on twenty years. Here's to many many more.Blessings, Christi Barron
Love, love, love this. A real insight and an actual one too. Happy tears!