Toast to Mary Jo

August 26, 2009 at 6:36 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 8 Comments
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with a twist on ice, if it’s not too Dean Martin, omerta

principles with an end to occam without

being sweeney between the keeping of secrets and the breaking of promises

insert ocean metaphor here teddy

kennedy hyannis port, white sails blue horizon, on the occasion of another passing

remember that car exit bridge alternate endings either way and both shot down

left you standing by that river shivering and her dying

Mary Jo


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  1. Teddy Kennedy passed away today which is sad. He may have been President if it wasn’t for the Chappaquiddich Incident in which Mary Jo Kopechne drowned in a river whilst the unfortunate Senator escaped.

  2. This is brilliant – I don’t how you do it! Dreams reflect what has happened 1 to 2 days prior – your work is a bit like that. God bless you Teddy Kennedy.

  3. And the two meet again….wish I were a fly….

    Haunting reflections, Paul….very touching.

  4. amazing and powerful–the airwaves have been full of talk about Kennedy and here you nail it–congrats

  5. this is breathtaking Paul. the shivers are still rippling…

  6. wow…

  7. Bobby was always my favorite Kennedy. He was more intelligent and eloquent than either John or Teddy and would have made an excellent president. Of course Teddy was drunk that night he ran off the bridge. That’s why he didn’t stick around. He could have been charged with manslaughter at least and facing prison time (an end to any political career)even that of a senator. But if you leave the scene and they can’t PROVE you’re impaired, the worst becomes much more favorable, simply “leaving the scene of an accident. With Ted’s law background of course he knew that. And the people knew what was going on which is why they never let him rise above the senate. A good post, friend.

  8. I must add that I thoroghly enjoyed the sidebar of Carl Jung speaking about death. It was most interesting. He also stated once that there was something within himself that was not himself but that was better than himself. I think each of us can relate to that twinge of conscience, with the exception of the psychopath perhaps, in which case, it is not light but darkness which dwells there.

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