Johnny Went Lightly

John Vincent Dejesus, you’ve

left this lad a ponderous loot;

of fondness great, of tales imbued--

for you I ramble on.

A mythic medley of embellished truth,

your youth was told through grinning tooth.

A captive ear, excited eyes,

absorbed, enthralled, in awe, was I.

As a farmhand boy of 11 kin,

you toiled in dirt and drew seed within.

With many mouths and endless needs,

you learned to work, grow inwardly.

Full of the piss that drives young boys,

your motorbike hummed at your employ.

Authority irked your inner free,

as you sped away from that CHP.

To the walnut grove you rushed with ease,

as your tickled feet dangled from blooming bright trees.

Your brothers earned a name for naughty,

perhaps none so greater than Uncle Eddy.

His barroom haunts taught you what fists could do;

don’t mess with Eddy, or he’ll leave you blue.

Your weathered grip, used on tools and bars,

would embrace the rifle in the second World War.

Your boyhood bravery, a desire to give,

a boy in the Pacific, he swims to live.

Helicopter blades wave, back ache,

you crawled onto the island as gunfire await.

Fear gripped your young frame as you squeezed the trigger,

innocence gone, a man now stands shivered.

My early thoughts of grandpa John,

with toasted skin and curly locks.

A man alive with life so bright,

I clung to him like day to night.

We’d jump in bronco, brown and swift;

ruffle feathers down the Brentwood strip.

We’d gather walnuts, 1$ dollar a bucket!

Toss rotten nuts at Grandpa’s butt,

and bring on the wallop.

We’d clean garlic, brine olives, plant veggies, skin fishies;

watch football, play yahtzee, strum uke and weld schwinnies.

You taught me to be free in skin given me,

to state what you want and do as you please.

To treat every stranger as your nearest kin--

to love as he loved;

all with a grin.

Nothing is more cherished,

nothing more awake,

then our time spent with line, out on the lake.

We woke up at dawn, yawned to the pond,

cruised an hour long, then pie at the lodge.

Out on the boat I learned to be steady,

in mind and in body, my patience grew ready.

Not, however, before I was scolded for my haste,

with curse words learned first at the great Diamond Lake.

My grandpa I’ll miss,

and if only you knew;

I never liked fishing, but I liked it for you.