on crud 6 comments

Posted by grampa in  (Saturday June 10, 2006 at 11:26 am)

This is a poem my father wrote back in the old beatnik days. I think it really says all that needs to be said about our family.

On Crud 

Dark, dank and dreary days
compose this life of mine
as I wade through the stench of men
and approach the end of time

The rancid smell of life and death
weigh on this weary earth
and to me the crud, the moldiness
surpass its little worth

While poets speak of life and death
and the beauty of the sky
they forget the heartache of the living
and that the dead with maggots lie

So when death comes to me
such sweet repose it giveth
for no longer must I know hate and fear
and the sickness of that which liveth

-JFH c.1959

Granted, his outlook was always a little rosier than mine.

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6 comments for on crud »

I am going to sue you–copyright infringement!!!!

Comment by daddygrampa — Tuesday.June.13.2006 @ 9:12 am

You should know better, dad. I always cite my sources. If you want, though, I’ll take it down.

Comment by Grampa — Tuesday.June.13.2006 @ 9:33 am

is that really daddygrampa?

wow. so it runs in the family huh?

Comment by wendykat — Tuesday.June.13.2006 @ 11:49 pm

Yes, it really is and yes, it really does.

Comment by grampa — Wednesday.June.14.2006 @ 6:29 am

That’s *Doc* Daddygrampa to y’all.

Comment by Neqq — Wednesday.June.14.2006 @ 8:02 am

And furthermore, on the topic of crud:

Praise for Crud

‘Tis in the crud
As in the mud
‘Tis where we plant the seed
Which needs the dark and moist and dank
To become what it will be

All things in life
This process follow:
Dark, light, dark, light, and so on
Without the crud, who needs the sun?
Let seed take root, don’t swallow

Except your fear, that is
Digest it through and through
Until it joins the ranks of crud
In the form of poo
‘Twill fertilize what will become…the new you

Comment by oldcrusty — Thursday.May.22.2008 @ 7:26 am

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