Eulogy owed to: Andy's OdeA Poem by RuseInexsome eulogies are owed, given too late, as in this ode to Andy, a long gone friendsitting on a high elevation ledge, sierra nevada, california wondering about right amiss, far down below back to - in the wilderNest where i belong wanna join me? blue sky above, i promise you wanna see the earth curve? from high above? feel the cold chill of frosty air on your naked cheek? the moaning, low frequency sound flowing past your noise-traumatized ear? .. .. .. .. .. .. .. he stood around a raging fire far from the city, holding a hard carried bottle sipping whiskey, no chaser except some he was running from, at least trying to outrun - his pursuers a painted bird in a hostile land didn’t know who he was, just like me and maybe you if you care to listen - he never found out even to his last breath ‘cause he was taken by a rough rock’ impact flew off his motorbike at 70 miles per hour onto the cold uncaring, brittle heartless ground no one to hold up his head, no one to softly comfort him no one to hold him, no woman to coo his weary, scared frame, no one to wipe his tired brow he died alone hopefully, instantly he never found himself, or who he really was anymore than you or me abruptly ejected from our world i miss him he died of a broken neck to the outward observer, a broken heart to my observation though i hadn’t seen him, hadn’t talked to him since 1976 he started as a child ejected into the world inherited his edge of its hard a*s system, its chew-you-up, spit-you-out portion like he were a cheap-chaw-tobacco wad the world spat him out as if he were scum-chum-chased, shark bait always on the run, no place to rest his head, the head that knew me long ago and got lost in the chase, of bewilderment in the human wilderness i miss him much, wish i could have been there, i would have helped him, hide him from preying eyes who just took him and spoiled him i would have cradled him again, this time from the world’s blows, not his own wish i could have held him and rocked him ’til his last breath a tow headed child born into the system, corrupted by it sweet face looking up once a time, to the face high above, beyond the clouds he then became hard all the time, learned to un-feel chased, persecuted, looking for relief then stopped looking and began chasing things, chasing away his shadow, breaking his mothers heart making his hard a*s, loving father, mad crazy with the things he didn’t do, never enough for dad, no time to talk only business he was a tall blond, with a norseman’s falling hair lean, not mean, just stoic he had a roman’s statuesque, latin nose he my friend beginning to end he ended hard i don’t/won’t/ever forget him thirty five years are gone past now with his haunted face, sad, haunting and scared behind a granite front i can hear the wolves howling for his name whispered on his mom’s lips but nothing comes out he is far beyond the shimmering sea she cannot touch him his dad buried himself to him long before he buried his son what do you do besides scream at the horizon’s top, empty hard sky? where do you scream your frustration? are you looking for a yelling pistol, shooting range? nobody’s ever built one, so we all hold it inside ’til someone cracks they want us to squelch it with pharmaceuticals and concrete walls as you yell it out it hits the dome, bounces back - no answer to the tin top sound from above the ground and back returning empty, reverberating ’til it exhausts itself and you to oblivion like a slowly bouncing ping pong ball on hard existence, coming to its final vibratory stop, lying static spent i miss you my fellow painted bird you fought back but didn’t know how you lost every time, ended up here down on the ground, your final round, took the final punch far from me and those you outran - fell alone but i’m here even long years after you died finally, i’m here your memory lives in my spirit the sound of your machine roars vibrates loud like steady thunder in my ear you might have smiled sometime in your life, i think inside, but outside - the shell of your face was always hard like the rock your head smashed against and killed you, smashed your skull, spilled your beautiful brains on this filthy world’s seat i hurt, i weep, hard cry tremble no place to weep always chased at every turn everything wants something from me everyone wants it too, and a piece of me you tried to keep up with the plastic ones, the worldly ones partly that is what did you in, i find no fault, just like the rest of us my roman friend, you would laugh inside and cry inside, your face like rock, i understand it now, never back then i was like you my altar boy, my golden, my loving friend my friend, my friend! is see now, how you were driven hard by your father, whipped to make you submit but you were bored he couldn't tame you, and he couldn't cure you your mind always drifted to other’s pulls and years, was the way you were made no satisfaction for you, you never got it, outside of the bottle and long sips of your fast machines ode to you Andy i knew you well, but i stopped knowing you; you went your way, me, i went mine, you tried to change me to the world you followed i was sent on another path, lost connection, the ones that took you made you helpless, they led you astray, we loved each other close at one time too long ago though and with a damn, 12 foot thick, brick window between us, i could never knock it down! you loved me as i loved you like jonathan and david, both of us painted birds, if we had chosen our persecutors’ weapons they would have been wasted, gone, but birds don’t always fight back, they fly to different lands wanting peace, solitude to just be left the f**k alone, but the persecutors, the crows and the vultures predators suck up innocents’ entrails, always do users, abusers, world’s full of them, the crows pecked, their sharp thick, crooked beaks decimated, the vultures well, you know what they do, they with vile guile, feed on road kill don’t even wipe their tool, they would have been gone we would have wasted them if we had chosen our persecutors’ weapons we would have jacked them up, feels satisfying just sayin’ it but nothing would have been solved, the world spawns them, and God forbid, we would have been part of them they rise like plague, like multiplying bacteria’s virus ooze you knew no other path, you fought back in your own way, but you succumbed to their toys rather than those you could have used, and in the end, they didn’t win, they just took you in, you not only kept up with them you surpassed them with speed and coolness, you left them humiliated in the dust, behind you, they tried to keep up and couldn’t, they respected you, only because of it because you became like them you kicked their a*s, your won at their own game but lost yourself in the end and i lost you, so long ago, i saw it, you didn’t, you had to go your own way, strong willed and all, was in your own nature, and me, mine i hope to see you again i can’t regather your atoms or molecules, i can go to your grave and search there but already know, all i’ll find is bones and dust i’d like to reassemble them but even the cern particle accelerator can’t help me, gluons, nutrinos lepiquarks are of no avail einstein and the essence of matter, its very construct forever in futility will never advance, always succumb to the vanity of man’s attempt to cure death and dying’ even dr. einstein, slept his final one, carl sagan gone, oodles of stars like collective sand particles of all the worlds beaches, couldn’t/can’t bring you back, i can’t regather your dna, a higher platform, your substance is not graspable by my hands, it slipped through my fleshly, coarse fingers crippled twisted, weakened by sun’s radiation cursed heat upon dried, drier, drying earth, no matter the rainfall, it won’t fall upon my soul or cure its ills in hollow absence of you, Andy, only in the recesses somewhere there right beside the memory of my long gone memories of us in the sun, years ago - friends, only in those places will i find you, within my own mortal, yet eternal soul, this is how i understand, perceive, get and accept it, in unprovable truth, that’s were i will find you, somehow i know, i know, though i cannot prove it to my mind, i shall see you again now i see your face smiling it’s not hard anymore your hair white, with a bit of yellow gold, downward flows; it falls like silken strands smoothly down to your mid neck line, your nose, your dad’s and mom’s eyes, i see you truly happy now, forever shhhh, go back to sleep! my sweet, hush darling i shall see you soon and again first comes the dawn and then the dark the utter dark, then comes the midnight; it stays and then the brilliant; the shining sun dawn’s eternity i shall see all of you this glimpse of time where it doesn’t shine; will not stay a night’s terror, in the world’s wilderness o pain, conflict, respite at times good and evil, combined i shall see you again see you in the recesses of my mind, will see you in lonely fields lit up by the sun far from humanity, its roars, its rush, its push its pull, its blows, its mockery, its ambitions, it’s incurable pride, i shall see you in the pages we wrote together, you turned them, you collected them, you treasured them, you said you would, i wonder if your mother kept them, our pages or your sister irene, or your brother patrick, or your dad dominic, or your uncle john, i don’t know, but i don’t want to ask them, don’t want to talk to them even though i love them for your gone’s sake i just want to remember them, i want to remember you in the same way, i don’t want to see you ’til then, i don't want a pre-surprise, i want to wait, i want it to be perfect/ complete, with no turning back no looking back to the sordid dead. blackish dark past, never want to go back slowly softly swirling, floating lightly above the ground in the flow of anti gravity, carried suspended by the music in the meantime, tall of form angelic altar boy i hope you breathed your last instantly, i don’t need phony violins to play you a dirge i hear the melody of sweet violins and the voice of moon river playing in a chamber of my mind, playing the eulogy you never received the one you were never given, you took me in to your home where nobody else would, you greeted me in with your, leave it to beaver family no matter, we are facades, none of us can help having a phony side it's all part of survival; its part of living, you took me in, i felt like the rest of them, confidence because of it; it didn’t last, too bad Andy; it took 35 years to say goodbye, i don’t know why, but i do, its because i’m just like you, only that i’m still dead on this world, in it, but not of it trying hard, maybe too hard, at times, i’m still here, though i wanna be and i don’t, but i’m here for you and everyone like you i’m carrying a load of salt on my back trying to keep it dry, sometimes i want to pour it into open wounds but i can’t, even if i was given permission, i don’t think i could i gotta keep it dry and fresh for you and everything i believe in 35 years to say goodbye, and it just hit me, i didn’t even cry, i feel it inside - the tears, but they don’t flow inside or outside their just there, like a placid pond of salty tears, no ripples, no air movement, nothing to stir them, but they are there Andy, someday they will flow i’m sure, i know, all for you, though i’ve not cried, even now as i think and type this eulogy to you on electronic paper, stuff you never dreamed about i still cannot cry, i don’t feel bad about it, i never saw you cry, not once, not one time, did you ever cry when you were alone? God, my heart is ripped now, i’m in hellish pain, the realization you never cried but you did a good job when you died you never cried You deserve my tears this moment because of this, but they won’t flow; they won’t go. I won’t try to let them go. The world doesn’t deserve them. I know you wouldn’t cry them for me. Nope you were always stoic-looking, into the distance, through things. You were blank; you walked; you talked, but you didn’t feel. You went; you came. You did. You just did, a walking lonely, as lonely can ever possibly be. No one could be as lonely as you though surrounded by things. Money was no object; you had everything. Now you are no more. What would it have taken to make you feel? What love, what kind of love would it have taken to awaken you to feel? What stirred your heart? You performed; you participated, but you were just there, doing, performing - being. Your were some kind of being. I don’t cry because i feel nothing, just deepest sorrow. Nothing can come of it. I am like you now; i am become sorrow for this moment. I am simply performing on a memory, a thought, a feeling, a love of a different kind. I am participating for a best friend, no friend - empty friend, a friend in a walking sleep always going here, there, everywhere, but nowhere from my view point. Here, on this ledge, on this high, elevated granite rock, on the brink of a jump. In the heart of this immense sierra nevada range. Now comes the time to close the sound; the thought, the feel, the impulse, the sorrow, the futility. Now it is time to close the page of the pages you turned so many years ago for me and then closed the short book. And then you died on a lonely foothill road’s shoulder, like road kill, no place to lay your weary head, no place, no one to hold you except for the angel of Almighty God goodbye my golden haired, roman statured, italian friend i miss your so, so, indefinably much i miss you goodbye! while i wait for the last beginning, for the flow of the first last tear i should have wept for you i wish for that moment to come, to see, to feel the tears, all of them, ’til the pond is empty and the salt no longer required, for that those you hung-out with, who always took and never replaced i am looking for that moment, for them to confess and apologize, for them to shed their tears too, ’cause they never did © 2016 RuseInex |
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Added on February 4, 2016 Last Updated on February 7, 2016 AuthorRuseInexFresno, CAAboutI was born in obscurity Outside a small country town’s limits In a plank shack I kept a few memories That come into my head That i still carry around That i visit now and then The dust .. more..Writing
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