A Few Poems so Few will Read
Thirteen Chairs
Away, there is a beach
warmed in tropical winds
washed by blue waves.
There gather twelve on thirteen chairs.
celebrating life given freely
shared by one,
in love with the people assembled
on a beach, surrounded by beauty
renewed in spirit.
Together twelve on thirteen chairs
placed by one, remembered.
-Dean Christy, Mexico 2004
Verdun
we all need to see
I wanted more,
to feel the great sorrow, life torn away
fallen among pockmark ground,
hidden under a century of green,
grasping along trenches
richly nourished by the blood of youth.
I wanted to feel heroism, pride,
passion for the cause, for those lost
here and in dreams of those mourning,
I stood waiting for great shadows
surrounded in quiet woods, forever,
clinging to a moment of terror
tearing at the minds of the dead,
of me trying to be part of a scene passed
in a past of fire and fear,
of force and frailty, stolen breaths
whispering among ruins dripping tears
for those buried in walls and fields, weeping
for those never found to stack their bones
in tombs slowly seeping from the minds
of us here now, wanting more
of what they lost.
-dean in France May 2011
A Blue
There is a colour of blue
that lives between day
before night.
A blue known but elusive.
untraceable by the tongue,
embraced by the soul,
shared with the departed,
a blue before life
folds from day into night.
– at Augusta 2023
Owen, Ben, David & Rosie
a thief called Dementia
My little ones, so far away,
I will always love you,
I wish I always could
remember you,
but time has a way
to move us all so far away,
and even as this moment sparkles,
I forget just who you are.
Still, please remember me,
I will remember you,
if not just now, but always,
and when we meet again,
I will still be loving you,
my little ones.
-dean Dec 2018
When we pass again
after 45 years a coffee with David
A pleasant afternoon passed in the past
two old faces meeting in the same old places.
New stories of old names and times
jokes, jokers, treks, trekkers, adventures, seekers
rolling by over coffee and forgotten appointments.
This is moments well founded in two old faces,
knowing the world they share, sharing
the paths they’re on, each seeing the wisdom
of the journey, passed without the other
now forever traveling together, outside the expected
beyond the norm, poor in coin, rich in spirit
Forging to a future of reinvention, reboots.
To new places smiling old faces even
if they never pass again.
-dean April 2019
The Last ?
Hoping that’s it for winter:
I stare in wonder, at the last sparkle
of the last winter storm.
The promise of spring
summer slumbers in
the bare branches
hiding in sheets of white.
With winter’s work done
their turn will come.
It is at last beautiful.
-dean February 2019
On set
“making magic”
It is magic, just slower
than magic should be.
Long days stretching minutes
into long drawn hours.
Makeup, hair, wardrobe,
lights, sound, slate, rolling,
action.
Seconds stretching over and over
through camera angles playing on angles
“reflecting light, that stops the night,
stretching to create the magic
that one day will turn days into seconds,
and “poof”, it is done.
-dean March 2018