PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

by Jeph Johnson

My father left me his name
sandwiched between my first and last.
Our sense of humor was the same;
a clever wit and smarter ass!

Occasions rose on our behalf,
no punchlines were ever missed.
Eyes either rolled or were laughing...
Many charmed while others got pissed.

Exaggeration was always evoked
when presenting his stories with skill.
Wet noodles stood at attention as he spoke
yet his eggshell heart volatile.

The pain he hid with his laughter.
I could count on one hand all his tears.
Though they all fell at once the day after
ones close to him would disappear.

Friends peeked out from behind every corner,
Wisdom was amazed by his youth,
and youth surprised by his performance
of stockpiling variations of truth.

I reflect accurate as this tribute
paints a portrait of him on this page,
but reflection, by nature, insinuates
I've looked in the mirror at my face.