In My Own Words – Page 79 – The Poems of David Garlick

I do not know this man at all

but to acclaim his fame and skill.

Yet somehow in my heart I feel

that we would find a common bond.

In love of form and texture strong.

Of winds that fill, to shape a sail.

The sound of waves against the hull

And wheeling Sea Gulls flying free.

A leafless branch that sheds the snow,

or sunlight sparkling on a brook.

In golden leaves that paint the fall,

or frost that crunches under foot.

If we were dumb and could not speak,

Still joy we’d find in all these things.

How small a fault then language is,

to separate to friends.

David Garlick, Victoria, 1986

From further up the beach they looked like stranded whales.

Closer, I could see their northern pallor’s pinking to the sun.

Quivering, hairy bellies and ripe bosoms bursting bikinis.

The scent of cheap sun blocks soothing consciences.

They almost sizzle, basking in the sun’s violent smile.

Hot dogs on concession rollers, waiting for bun coffins.

Who cares about such things, we are on a winter holiday.

Forget fog, rain, ice, snow and freezing wind.

David Garlick, Puerto Vallarta, January, 1997

My son is not another me.

He stands alone to find his place.

If he has guts and drive to spare,

his niche in life will wait for him.

It’s not for me to say which way

but only to guide if I am sure.

Not sure of what I want for him

but sure his way is straight and true.

It is more honest to use tools well.

For after all that’s what I know.

Than to pretend to brilliant be

and fail oneself, who else will care.

So find a road that suites your feet

and be not bent from your resolve.

To try to do the best you can,

though oft the going will be rough.

And if you stumble, trip or fall,

or take a wrong turn on the way.

Remember that our love for you

is constant and unqualified.

When all is past and back we gaze

Aa all the foolish things we’ve done.

Let us at least, with pride and grace,

know we tried our very best.

David Garlick, Victoria, Fall 1986

I have a brother far, far away.

With wife and child welded as one.

I only wish that we could see

more of them now and then.

The years have passed so quickly

and our paths so seldom cross.

That even when we meet to speak

the spontaneity that used to be

has gone replaced by words,

that say not what they mean.

I’ve always loved my brother Chris.

And though at times, like cat and dog,

we fought for reasons long forgot,

my love is still as strong.

So do not shut your minds to us,

who live across another land.

Things are not what they may seem to be,

and very seldom are.

There is no blame for fates like ours

where life has torn us far apart.

So do not let our love grow cold

for want of letters or the phone.

I promise to do my part.

David Garlick, Victoria, 1986

(Written as an apology , not for forgetting you birthday, which I didn’t but for failing to take time out to tell you that, I love you.)