The following is a collection of short poems; homages to a few of the many who passed this year. Over the last few weeks, I’ve been looking back through obituaries in The New York Times and have been inspired by the lives of a variety of amazing people. It’s probably not surprising the musicians account for the majority of these vignettes.
Here are three longer works that I wrote earlier this year.
Enjoy and Happy New Year!
2024 RIP
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold
Dystopia slouches ever closer
And overnight my heart, suddenly old
And with 2024, seeking closure
What we have lost, too early to tell
But minor chords will be major
Yet let us once more go to the well
There are days and nights to savor
Take this moment to breathe the air
And forget it will soon be too hot
Our time is passing so please be aware
Of those who were and are now not
Kinky Friedman – 1944
He wrote novels, ran for Governor of Texas
A Jewish cowboy wrote songs by the score
Between his cultures he found the nexus:
“Both wear their hats indoors”
He was funny, generous, kind and smart
An impresario of imperfection
He loved this earth with his one of a kind heart
No wonder he lost the election
He had excessive excesses that led to addiction
And many successes when he was clear
He said the line is fine between truth and fiction
And he and Jimmy Buffett snorted it one year
He was drawn to animals neglected
Donkeys, cats, birds, armadillos!
He had a heart for the rejected
He and the dogs each other’s pillows
When Parkinson’s laid him low
They would snuggle in his bed
Impossible they did not know
Time to go where we are led
He never married but had company enough
and once remarked of his so-called pets
Dogs teach us loyalty, courage and unconditional love,
and we teach them to sit and fetch.
Mary Mcgee – 1936
“Motorcycle Mary” McGee
fiery self-respect – zest for danger
Back of bike is where she was free
Men stopped trying to change her
500 miles Baja off-roading
Pushed herself to the brink
She won but a guy got the trophy
Because her helmet was pink
Barbara Bowman 1928
“It’s not what happens to you
but what you do about it.”
What she accomplished before she was through
Leaves no room to doubt it
Depression/Jim Crow girl
But didn’t get lost in that plot
Started a movement changed the world
Giving the youngest a shot
Silvia Pinal – 1931
She was the last diva of Mexico
Balanced glamour, humor, sensuality
An acclaimed star we would get to know
From Bunuel’s surreal reality
From Exterminating Angel sinister dark
The meaning deftly obscured
To Burt Reynolds’s costar in “Shark”
Oh the wonders of the absurd
Robert Dixon – 1921
One of the last Buffalo Soldiers
Taught cadets how to handle a horse
If racism weighted his shoulders
He never let on and set his course
Creating caring community
A modest Baptist pastor
Do this and you soon will see
You already have what you’re after
Angela Alvarez – 1927
Latin Grammy – Best New Artist
Fusion jazzy jive
It’s never too late to get started
She’d just turned ninety-five!
Loved Glenn Miller, this Cuban girl
At twelve she wrote her first song
Cleaning houses and kids her world
Sometimes it’s long to where we belong
Shalom Nagar – 1936
“We’re in this world as tenants.
The only thing we take with us is our good deeds.”
But if you kill, can you defend it?
Blood is blood who knows where it leads
Eichmann – architect of horror
He took the living and unborn descendants
So what is one death more?
And yet.. we’re in this world as tenants
Andy Paley – 1951
Curator of classic 1960s pop
Phil Spector without the whack
Infectious energy that did not stop
Until Death laid down a track
Madonna, Jerry Lee, Lou Reed
Brought Brian Wilson back to the flow
Knew when to step back and when to lead
Filled in for Joey “Come on Let’s Go”
Duke Fakir – 1935
Abdul Fakir, who was known as Duke
Last of the Four Tops
There was a time, all over the juke,
Motown, Michigan all you got
The same old song fresh as the air
Radio waves came from above
Standin’ in the shadows of love
Duke’s smooth harmony grace
One pleading word and then I let
Prayer hold me in its embrace
Davie Loggins – 1947
Please, come to Boston for the Springtime
I’m stayin’ here with some friends, and they’ve got lots of room
And you can sell your paintings on the side-walk
By a café where I hope to be workin’ soon
Please, come to Boston
“Come to Boston!” he pleaded
“I’m living with friends, a cafe nearby
Where I might get a job if needed”
She said “Are you fucking high?
I’m still right here in Tennessee
Raising our son, do you remember!?
I work two jobs just to feed him and me
And don’t even talk to me about Denver!”
Ruth Westheimer – 1928
From nothing to thriving
She was good at surviving
She was also good at advising:
“Don’t do that to him while driving!”
Orphaned early by Auschwitz
But Nazis could not kill her will so
She found she could easily talk about it
As well as vaseline, vaginas and dildos
Eros and Thanatos in one breath
Every day a little death
On the roof there is always a fiddler
Whose favorite tune is “Fuck You Hitler!”
Melanie – 1947
“It was the song that doomed me to be cute
for the rest of my life. I just wanted to be free
Don’t get me wrong – it was fun and I loved the loot
But sometimes, I want more than a Brand New Key
I know I’m not Joni, Joan or Judy
But I’ve been a part of this dance
And who else had a hit with the groovy
‘Bobo’s Party’ in France?
But it was that roller skate song that defined me
I wrote it eating a McDonald’s Happy Meal
I was a vegetarian dining sublimely
And this ditty captured the way I feel
I’ve often been asked if it’s metaphorical
The innuendo of sex and getting high
OK – once more, and this is categorical:
The key to this song is “Lucy in the Sky “
Mitzi Gaynor – 1931
“I was the cock-eyed optimist of South Pacific
In love with this life although it will end
At being positive I’ve been pretty prolific
Although I wouldn’t mind being fifty again
I once was booked on the Ed Sullivan’s show
My star rising just as I had planned
And everyone looked but wouldn’t you know
It’s hard to follow “I Want to Hold Your Hand”?
With grace I accepted the rise and fall
Tears always seem to lead to a laugh
And how delightful it was to talk to Paul
After he requested my autograph”
Liam Payne – 1993
Here’s someone who knew the high of frenzied fans
The lie of living on stage
One Direction, the quintessential boy band
Kept him from coming of age
In Argentina, this English boy
Fell in the night to his death
Left his family without the joy
Of the sweet sighs of his breath
Let no life be in vain
A death speaks to us all
Living amongst us is Liam Payne
Let’s catch them before they fall
Chuck Woolery – 1941
I want to avoid talking election
So many hopes destroyed
And now the host of “Love Connection”
Chuck Woolery departed to the void!
But maybe he was already there
His soul and he said their goodbyes
Right wing podcast extraordinaire
And Trump retweeted his lies
In his last breath, a murmur
A casual phrase, then he was through
All agreed his final words were
Nikki Giovanni – 1943
I hate to admit that about her I’m clueless
But glad her words have found me
About race rapturously ruthless
And she sure knew how to set a boundary:
i always liked house cleaning
even as a child
i dug straightening
the cabinets
putting new paper on
the shelves
washing the refrigerator
inside out
and unfortunately this habit has
carried over and I find
i must remove you
from my life
And now I will get out of the way
She had so much to say:
and I really hope no white person ever has cause
to write about me
because they never understand
Black love is Black wealth and they’ll
probably talk about my hard childhood
and never understand that
all the while I was quite happy
JD Souther – 1945
They aimed to be bigger than The Beatles
Especially with the new kid in town
And he was briefly one of The Eagles
But he just wanted to write for their sound
He liked that his songs were more famous than he
And that his bank account got fatter
He became who he wanted to be
And that is the heart of the matter
Will Jennings – 1944
The star-crossed crossing the Atlantic
Love,hope,desire – impossibly atmospheric
(Although that trio would give way to “frantic”)
“This moment needs a really great lyric!”
So Jennings starts penning something romantic
Like maybe “I’ll love you even if you’re gone”
And he is very good and the task is not titanic
So he tries “My heart will go on”.
Ships could have launched on the ocean of tears
Caused by an English teacher who developed a knack
And won Oscars for scores in his later years
(and by the way…on the door, there was room for Jack!)
Herbie Flowers – 1935
Two notes in twenty minutes
Double bass glissando ride
New York City, you are in it
Take a Walk on the Wild Side
Ominous glissando glide
It delivers it defines
Take a Walk on the Wild Side
It’s not too late you know
To be who you’ve denied
There is time before you go
Take a Walk on the Wild Side
Turn it on, turn it up
In coolness you abide
You have sheltered long enough
Take a Walk on the Wild Side
Do you ever tell yourself you are not beautiful?
Well, that part of you fucking lied!
Immerse yourself in the immutable
Take a Walk on the Wild Side
It was May and now it’s December
It’s been a wonderful place to abide
What do you say? Give ‘em something to remember!
Take a Walk on the Wild Side!
And listen to the girls go
Doo, do-doo, do-doo, do-do-doo
Doo, do-doo, do-doo, do-do-doo
Doo, do-doo, do-doo, do-do-doo
Doo, do-doo, do-doo, do-do-doo
James Darren – 1936
Moondoggie with Gidget on the beach
Both were required to take a cuteness oath
New feelings came up, as yet out of reach
Becoming aware I had a crush on both
Maurice Williams – 1938 Edward Caraher – 1943
“Oh won’t you stay, a little bit longer”
Meanings change though words stay the same
In his final hours my brother got stronger
But it was his time and the doctor came
And as we stood around his bed
His breath slowed, he drifted away
I tried to accept but my heart said
Stay
I felt overcome, at the brink
Of bolting into the night of day
I am done, I need a drink
Stay
Years ago, I was detoxing from coke
Decided to leave and do it my way
I told the nurse, one word she spoke
Stay
Right now, on a ledge, someone is making a choice
All we can do is pray
Lift up your eyes, arms, heart, voice
Stay
Please stay
John Mayall – 1933
The Godfather of British Blues
Tutored Clapton to become second best
(who was on top shouldn’t be news
Prince! Let’s put that to rest!)
The Bluesbreakers, an album influential
Though Mayall lived hand to mouth
It revealed the roots of rhythm essential
Black musicians of the American South
A Spilled Cup of Coffee – 2024
Grinder whirs, aromatic, soon we will begin it
Eros stirs – the ecstatic coming in a minute
Steam rises, feel the heat
Healed by Isis, this day I greet
I know no crisis I cannot defeat
With the last of my vices, I take a seat.
Our lips brush, cure for the sick
Try not to rush it’s always over too quick
my mouth opens and……oh no…I lose my grip.
You slip
Floor is covered – a sea black as mud
Oh dear lover I weep into your blood
Tito Jackson – 1953 Tommy Cash – 1940
Both immensely gifted
But by shadows covered up
And conversation often drifted
“Aren’t you the brother of….?”
Jerry Miller – 1943
Seattle – Jimmy and he
Before the “y’ was an “i”
Moved to the Bay, love was free
Before Jimmi kissed the sky
Jefferson Airplane, The Dead
1967 – a very good year
notoriety arrived and then it fled
But his brilliance did not disappear
But why no lasting fame?
Was it the name?
Moby Grape
Love – From the Start
Wait – a love obituary?
But love doth ne’er die nor grow old
And with the coming fourteen February
Should someone not be told?
Now relationships – totally different story
And Death’s domain does pertain
Some ends are a profusion of glory others are gruesome and gory
But love…love will remain
Every falling in has a falling out
Romance is a delightful delusion
Giving our hearts removes all doubt
Love is the only solution
Something we will keep on doing
And there’s no winning if you’re not losing
Ella Jenkins – 1924
When she was about the age I am now
I met Ella Jenkins at a children’s music gathering
I had just begun writing songs
All of which were for children
Ella was there to nurture, caress
I was for my future – to impress
Ella was probably thinking how to guide us
I’m glad she could not see inside us:
“I definitely have the best song about “Hugs”!
I did not know who Ella was
She knew me though
Because of my songs? No! Because
I was all what-about-me? white boy ego
She gave me a gentle push
I suspect she saw what I could not see:
My heart
And then I heard:
It’s not about you
It’s not about them
It’s about us
(by the way, It’s not a bad Hugs song
Though rhyming “you” with “you”
Is pretty much unforgivable)
Donald Sutherland – 1935
He never received an Oscar nod
In a long and illustrious career
Which began when he heard from God
“Hey you! You with the big ears!”
His first encounter with a director
He responded with gravity and grace
Even his mother said “you’re not good looking
But you have an interesting face’
“Ordinary People” I’ve watched over and over
Identifying with the son trying to be strong
Now that I am many years sober
I am the father who can sense what’s wrong
Sutherland subtly gets under our skin
He’s overwhelmed, completely stuck
But yet there is whisper deep within
which finally give rise to “What the Fuck?!”
Sometimes love is hugs and tears
Steadfast comfort in a child’s night
Sometimes love is allaying fears
Sometimes “What the Fuck!?” is just right
Maggie Smith – 1934
One of her performances was described as
“a staggering amalgam of counterpointed moods,
switches in voice levels and obliquely stated emotions,
all of which are precisely right.”
That’s exactly what I was going to say
But maybe not quite as specific
An amalgam that staggers did not come my way
And I am left with “She was terrific!”
Judith Jamison – 1943
The antithesis of the small-boned dancer demure
A performer of intelligence, warmth and wit
Alvin Ailey choreographed “Cry” just for her
She became a star – an immediate hit
In 1964, not a big demand for Black ballerinas
But Ailey witnessed an early audition
He nurtured her and she became seen us
His muse and partner is creating a vision
Of representing the history of Black women
Archetypal origins Mother, Servant, Queen
And when he died, she continued their mission
Choreographer of the unseen
An Iowa Cottonwood Tree – Circa 1920
An old man rises on the farm where he was raised
Takes in the horizon unlike yesterday’s
There’s a hole in the sky he once climbed so well
There’s a hole in the sky – the tree finally fell
It’s gone
He looks beyond
He walks to where it lay, together they rest
And in their way, they pray, love professed
Together they lie, quietly talk
Then from edges of the sky, the keening of a hawk
It’s gone, we’re gone, we go on
The hawk hovers in the cool spring air
Looking for cover that is no longer there
Trying to return, she circles the dawn
And when she is certain, she moves on
She’s gone
We are gone
We go on
Terri Garr – 1944
She didn’t need words to seal a scene
For instance, Inga with Dr. Frankenstein
A marvelous meltdown with Hoffman
Elvis movies is where she came of age
Then a film with The Monkees
In her hands, a ditsy blonde on the page
was warm, deep and endearingly funny
In Close Encounters of the Third Kind
Eyes of worry and pain – to go or to stay
And another encounter now comes to mind
Who wouldn’t want a roll in ze hay?
Ron Ely – 1938
He was Tarzan, educated and urbane
Who goes back to his chimp and their ilk
Can’t help but wonder what happened to Jane
He probably said, “Goin’ out for milk!”
Trapped by that role right from the start
But his career wasn’t done for good
Who else could say they were cast in a part
Where an Amish girl goes to Hollywood?
When I write, I just follow my muse
Often I find serendipitous beauty
Normally I would not choose
To stream a Rumspringa movie.
Pete Rose – 1941
Banished from his only love
Never to be a prodigal
Born into the webbing of a baseball glove
(probably apocryphal)
Switch-hitting mythically-mad meme
Brightest star in the sky
On his back he could carry a team
But crushed by the weight of a lie
He was a gift given to Hubris
Shakespeare knew this locale
I wonder how does one do this?
Be Falstaff as well as Hal
Ricky Henderson – 1958
Once he was on, no chance
Turned base-stealing into an art
He had a hard-to-pitch-to batting stance
“a strike zone the size of Hitler’s heart.”
Willie Mays – 1931
The kid who said “Say, hey!”
There could be no match
Two words. What else is there to say?
Yep! “The Catch”
Image indelible we begin to see
What put him on the map
Oh divine holy trinity
The Catch The Throw The Cap!
At the very top of his game
America had its doubts
San Francisco shame
Say….hey…
Barbara Dane – 1927
Managers said if she “got her priorities straight”
She could make it big. Trust us!”
But the billboard charts would have to wait
She kept singing about injustice
A preacher like Seeger, singer of sparks
Call and response – she answered the call
She was more taken by the Lenin of Marx
Than the one who was a pal of Paul
No chance for a royalty advance
She took a stance with wisdom and vision
She found romance and a way to dance
To “I Hate the Capitalist System”
Zakir Hussain – 1951
precise beats melodic tones
Attentive presence
Shuntaro Tanikawa – 1931
The most revered poet of Japan
Nobel Prize – his name always around
Lonely litanies is where he began
Then came Snoopy and Charlie Brown
In a culture where to feel like a cog,
To be different can seem like a chance
Words of comfort came from a philosopher dog
“To live is to dance!”
Kazuko Shiraishi – 1931
Influenced by Miro, Dali, Coltrane
The Allen Ginsberg of Japan
On the road with artists profane
From Kerouac to Cezanne
I am the same as this river
flowing
when I sing I do a sinuous
dance as though the world exists in my hips
Never read her in English Lit
Didn’t look like the folks we know
But Holy Mother she was doin’ it
Bein’ a Beat in Fuckin’ Tokyo
I am pretty sure she was the best
Said Ginsberg, the Shiraishi of the West
Duane Eddy – 1938
Born to Run intro guitar steady
Would not be without Duane Eddy
He was said to be the first Rock God
Which reminds me (this might sound odd
But I would have picked Rick Nelson
Oh my God I worshipped that guy
It’s not like I would tell someone
But I kinda got lost in those eyes
Anyhow let’s get back to the guy
Who’s layin’ down a track up in the sky
And if the world ends I hope it’s with a bang
And we’re goin’ out to the sound of Twang
Mary Weiss – 1948
when it topped the charts she fit the scene
Melodramatic teenage angst yearning
Lead vocal Shangrillas – she was fifteen
Motorcycle love not returning
He wasn’t bad he was sad and misunderstood
That’s either way wise or way whack
But candy store hook-ups never turn out too good
But that’s where she fell for Leader of the Pack
And now she’s gone
Shigeko Sasamori 1932
Everything is not human
No faces, no eyes, and red and burned
She awoke to the world of Truman
She became the lesson she had learned
She’d tell her tale and say that the future “does concern me
And really, here’s only one chance
Whatever conflict you face on your journey
Be kind to one another when you get mad, do the angry dance.”
Many with hard lives do more than just get by
They rise from ashes beautiful and bold
I kind of think I’m not that guy
My life feels hard when my coffee is cold
Mildred Thornton Stahlman – 1922
She developed neonatal ICU
To so many she embodied Hallelujah
I am so grateful, what would I do
Without my granddaughter Tallulah?
James Earl Jones – 1931
Raised by the parents of his mother
Adolescent silence because of a stutter
An English teacher’s reach is so that he
Regained the power of speech through poetry
Take heart you writers of verse!
You are making the world less worse!
Flavorless would be the cultural horizon
Vader-less and no Kingdom of Lions
And wherefore art thou Lear
Othello, Titania and Kubrick’s bombardier?
A void endless without Fences
Senseless and intense-less
No more rolling thunder intonation
But i do wonder of this situation:
What if he came back for an encore
And replaced my track on “Walk Like a Dinosaur”?
But now it’s time for you to pick up a pen
Start writing don’t stop till I say when
Put away the self-doubting knives
And write! Poetry saves lives!
But maybe you say “I am no writer!”
But your muse will find a way
Whatever makes your eyes get wider
That’s poetry at play
And the best way to pray
Olive Botey – 2019
Olive raised her own cassava plants
Loved playing football in the rain
Without a vaccine, she had no chance
The Congo’s rhythmic refrain
Because Olive loved to dance
Her family circled her grave
And moved as one to mournful chants
I read this, sorrow becomes rage
I want Kennedy and all the others
Every truth denier
To stand with Olive’s father, mother
And step into their fire
Olive was one of 6,000 this year in her country
Over 107,000 have died world wide
Measles
No one should die from the measles
Over the past several weeks, I have become acquainted with such a variety of beautiful lives but only Olive’s end makes me cry. It resonates so deeply because for a moment I feel a personal loss; I fully understand what is true: we are all connected. And here I am, standing, swaying, praying over her tiny wooden coffin. This beautiful dancer gone. And I feel such sadness over who she could have been, the lives she would have touched. As her life now, touches ours.
Be well everyone
Let us be kind and sweet
So we can look behind and greet
One another “We’re still alive!”
We all made it through 2025!
Denny Caraher
dcaraher@gmail.com