¿A Donde Voy? (Poetry) - 5/19/2022 6:29:33 PM
Where am I going? by Jon A. Hartz Sr. (Translation to English)
Here I am
In my little house
Like everyone else
Alone.
I don't know the day and time of my death.
I have an idea, but I don't know yet.
My doctor speaks in riddles
But I look for beliefs.
I can't find them.
Is it possible that there are none?
May God allow this
vague life?
However, always
I try to find
the truth, even in
the enigmas of the Doctor.
But I have more faith in God.
And I will follow the orders of both.
That's where I'm going.
Goodbye, and even the view...
¿A Donde Voy? (Poetry) - 5/19/2022 9:17:45 AM
My meager understanding of Spanish did not allow me to read your poem. However, I certainly understood that last line made forever famous by an Austrian speaking heavily accented German!
If it is about medicine, and I believe it is. More power to you. Perhaps I should send it to my first caregiver, a plastic surgeon from Ecuador. She could easily translate for me. K2 could also.
Ron
This is not... (Poetry) - 5/19/2022 8:06:01 AM
Smoothly prosaic and succinct, speaking as someone who is familiar with the high desert in several locales around the world. I am particularly fond of those geophysical regions where the chaparral and high desert zones overlap, but heck, I'm also a big fan of four distinct seasons a year. Your tome brings all those thoughts and evokes many happy memories of earlier life (now I reside in that self-same 'Calipornia' that USED to be such a pleasant place, nuff sed!) is such places. That is nature at its primal finest, IMO.
God Wants to Kill Me (Poetry) - 2/2/2022 8:01:49 AM
Acceptance of the sovereignty of God and the progression of aging is truly the path to peace. A deep poem from the soul. I wish you perfect peace and a blessed journey. Blessings.
God Wants to Kill Me (Poetry) - 2/1/2022 11:14:00 AM
It seems some don't understand my poem or the reason for it....it is not a dirge, lamentation or elegy, it is an acknowledgement of the primacy of God in the world and my life. One Author's Den reviewer said it was fatalistic, but unless one believes one is going to live on Earth forever, all anticipation is fatalistic to a degree. I tend to use strong words and unusual grammatical constructions which may be misunderstood, but my poems are authentically who I am, and what I think. Thank you all for your comments, I love all of them. See all my poems, some less lugubrious, at
https://www.authorsden.com/members/subPage.asp...
God Wants to Kill Me (Poetry) - 2/1/2022 2:02:22 AM
Nature kills. God soothes the pain.
Or so they tell me. Nice ending.
God Wants to Kill Me (Poetry) - 1/31/2022 11:30:17 AM
I am two years older. Learned recently that half of my high school class is gone. Cancer is a fickle thing. But cancer can be caused by lifestyle or other factors like exposure to chemicals, and of course, radiation from outer space that constantly hits our cells and sometimes, makes them abnormal to grow into a tumor or other growth. Our immune systems eliminate most cancers without us even knowing.
I don't think God has anything to do with it. Cancer treatment has progressed to where most cancers are treated and the unfortunate recipient lives on.
Your poem seems fatalistic. And it may be. Time to get your act together. I have because I know, at my age, good health can turn into a nightmare overnight. Best to be prepared and accepted for what it is, like you seem to have, something we all go through. Will living a little longer make any difference? My partner wants to be rid of me after taking care of me 24/7 for 29 years with no end in sight. I'm fine with going now and letting her live free from me for the rest of her life.
Ron
God Wants to Kill Me (Poetry) - 1/29/2022 7:55:36 PM
Don't ask me why, OG, but this piece reminds me of Edna St. Vincent Millay's memorable poem, 'Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies'.... It (Millay's poem) is an epic, just as was the poetess herself. Your commentary in 'God Wants to Kill Me' resonate. Expressive.
Aloha, -K2
I Can't Die (Poetry) - 1/22/2021 1:58:54 PM
Just save yourself, "Yes I can." Before long, you will. It's what old guys do.
Ron
I Can't Die (Poetry) - 1/21/2021 7:35:59 AM
When we pass through that door, there will be a new life and hopefully a better one. Enjoyed your poem.
California Cadenza (Poetry) - 3/26/2015 12:59:48 PM
This is worth it if only for San-Pick-Your-Saint Cal. I went there in '54 along the old route 66. Been back 8-10 more times, lived there for one year. Once it's in your blood, there' no getting away, even if you can't afford it, and you can't.
California Cadenza (Poetry) - 3/24/2015 7:21:08 AM
You certainly have a wild way of expressing your love for everything California, the sixth largest economy in the world and the one with the most natural beauty to boot. You packed a lot in a few words.
Although I only lived there three years, whenever I could, I took road trips from one end of the state to the other, picking up hitchhikers and exploring the rustic beauty beyond the high-tech world by the bay. Every time I go back, it feels like home.
Ron
Wild Crazy Days (Poetry) - 3/23/2015 5:34:29 PM
Kind of reminds me of that "TAXI" show that used to appear on TV,but more entertaining, thanks...-e-
California Cadenza (Poetry) - 3/23/2015 5:28:12 PM
You don't look so "old" to me...could be cause I am just about there too, but then again, age is in the eye of the beholder...-e-
California Cadenza (Poetry) - 3/23/2015 4:45:21 PM
Based on our early (1960's, 1970's) wanderings up and down California. Our family's address books can attest to our numerous addresses all over the state.
Wild Crazy Days (Poetry) - 3/7/2012 10:44:58 AM
Ron got it. The "Ti Jean" is Jack Kerouac, one of my early influences.
Wild Crazy Days (Poetry) - 3/7/2012 10:16:23 AM
Reads a little like hip-hop stream of consciousness type. Not really my cup of tea, but a good bit of wordplay.
Ron
San Diego River Morning (Poetry) - 3/6/2012 4:39:51 PM
Ah, some memories need to be sucked into the sand never to be seen again.
Now That I Am Old. (Poetry) - 3/6/2012 5:31:17 AM
Oh there is still blood being shed among the elder set from time to time. However, I agree that we do look at each other with that "knowing" look which says . . . We survived.
Now That I Am Old. (Poetry) - 3/5/2012 11:37:42 AM
When I was young, I wasted little time with young men's struggles. I always sought out older man and women for the wisdom they conveyed. Now, I have only fond memories when I look back that they were in my life before they were gone.
For example, I shared three wonderful years as treasurer of my little community. The president, Herbert O. Morrison, was much more than the man who cried, “ Oh, the humanity…” On that fateful day in 1937 when the Hindenburg crashed.
Ron
Now That I Am Old. (Poetry) - 3/4/2012 6:44:48 PM
can't wait to get there. thanks for sharing.
asa
