In times of impending demise, in your mind, you might see your life being replayed. Sometimes it’s in fast forward, sometimes in slow motion, sometimes both at once. Life flashes in random order, constantly cycling in and out like an out-of-control tilt-a-whirl at the county fair. You’d think that with all those moments stuck on a playback loop that one would walk away with perfect recall of all the events. Not true. You can remember things like the first time you pooped in your diaper and that piece of Bazooka Joe bubble gum you pocketed when you were ten years old. Every detail, no matter how small or insignificant will come flooding back. But what the heck just went down—draws a complete blank.
when death feels certain,
life flashes by in seconds—
don’t regret the show
Author: Jerry Brotherton
I am The Backyard Poet and I warn you that, not only will I ramble on about nothing but, I have been known to stand upon my soapbox and rant about things I care nothing about just to hear the sound of my own voice. I will try to force my opinion upon anyone willing to pay the slightest attention.
~What’s Yet to Come~
I can’t believe
how things have changed
yet so much has remained
exactly the same
It’s been four years but…
I look at the headlines
and wonder if we’ve fallen
through a time warp
or a hole in the floor
or been smacked on the head
by a one way door
What the hell happened to
the last four years
or four decades for that matter
progress has been
stripped away
in a matter of days
to make a new way
for us to pay
crack out the bullwhips
and light up the crosses
round them up
put them in chains
and send them off
on airplanes
and forget they
ever had names
~Flip or Flop~
if you see me sitting around
with my head tilted down
face wrinkled in a frown
hands shielding my face
just trying to figure out
if I can survive in this place
if I can finish this race
I know. I got it
change will come
and change will go
for better or worse
we won’t know
until we’ll either
suffer through hell
or find Heaven’s grace
if we’re to be celebrated
as conquering heroes
or banned in disgrace
the true story
will not be told
until those very last
words unfold
and in the end
they are rejected
or embraced
~Who Knew~
Back when I was a child,
they said I was poor,
but I did not know it.
Until one of my teachers pointed at me and said,
it’s okay for you to show it,
and that you have no cause for shame.
I should have asked her then,
but my mind didn’t comprehend,
and to this day I still think about what message
she was trying to send.
Ashamed of what— I never knew,
so I lived my childhood
without a clue.
Maybe there was something,
or someone I should blame.
But I was never one to follow the rules of the game.
I just smiled and said okay,
then I walked out to join my friends,
on the playground’s monkey bars.
I was the king of the monkey bars,
and I was not ashamed of that either.
~I See You America~
Down that back road
that heads out of town
across the railroad tracks
past the water treatment plant
in a mobile home park
where howling dogs are
hooked with logging chains
to blue plastic
55 gallon drums
I see your eight kids
playing in your front yard
some in diapers
some in tidy whiteys
all of them shoeless
and shirtless
8” tall grass
littered with broken toys
beer cans
whiskey bottles
cigarette butts
a lawn mower with three wheels
an old refrigerator
and a couch
with the cushions missing
your driveway filled
with your shiny red
Ford F250 truck
fishing boat
motorcycle
an empty box
that held an 80” TV
leaning against
your overflowing
trash can full of used
lottery tickets
and PBR boxes
not everything can
be blamed on
the government
Jerry Brotherton 