Sickly eyes, gone white with age, stare beyond this realm, to a next place I can’t see unless in dream. Words come suddenly, and startle like thunderous laughter from a long-still corpse. He wants to trade another story for a cold beer. I oblige him gratefully, and he sweeps me away with a tale of fire and gunshots through tropical jungles; and a love strong enough to carry him through the gory madness of war. Nothing seems uglier to me than bodies and lives being torn in the name of some politician’s opinion, but, he carves beauty from charred bone and paints amazing abstract life-scapes with nobly shed blood. The sun falls quickly from the half-sleep sky like an encore of burning Icarus. Patrick slips away into the twilight, leaving me tangled in a twisted knot of thought and emotion that will take the rest of my days to untie. I will miss him. But, I fear, I will never truly understand any of the gifts he has given me.
but, he carves beauty from charred bone and paints amazing abstract life-scapes with nobly shed blood. The sun falls quickly from the half-sleep sky like an encore of burning Icarus.
leaving me tangled in a twisted knot of thought and emotion that will take the rest of my days to untie. I will miss him. But, I fear, I will never truly understand any of the gifts he has given me.
Love those lines...but do we ever understand the unconditional....
The memories cast upon us by those close by often have a profound affect. Particularly when their life was so different to our own. Very well done, as always.
but, he carves beauty from charred bone and paints amazing abstract life-scapes with nobly shed blood. The sun falls quickly from the half-sleep sky like an encore of burning Icarus.
leaving me tangled in a twisted knot of thought and emotion that will take the rest of my days to untie. I will miss him. But, I fear, I will never truly understand any of the gifts he has given me.
Love those lines...but do we ever understand the unconditional....
we never get the gifts given, not even when its too late..all we have are empty hands full of wishes and a big fat f*****g question mark that we spand the rest of our lives trying to turn into an exclamation point.
wow... even just reading about the way he told stories left me trying to figure out the actual story lol... very good job... thanks for sharing it with us!
*cocoabean*
Beautiful and so true. It's hard to put ourselves in the positions of those at war when we ourselves have never been soldiers, fighting for an opinion. I love this.
its always hard to put yourself into anothers army boots and one can never fully understand , but there is something in their words that connect . powerful piece brother .