Odd Request by Runes

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Submission Name: Odd Request dots

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Author:	Runes
Elite Ratio:	5.81 - 264/221/100
Words:	168

Class/Type:	Poetry/Misc
Total Views:	143
Average Vote:	No vote yet.
Bytes:	1076

Description:
for Paulie, with infinite love.

Odd Request dots

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Last One Standing went from joke
to bitter irony, one pale shade past
morgue blue, gray angel wings descending
to clean up the mess your god made
of loyal you.

I wore your clothes for a long while
casino padding floors in too-big shoes
smoking cigars and reliving you
at craps tables and boxing events,
strange dyke-type in striped wool pants
tipping her matching derby hat…
“One More Drink For My Baby,
And One More For The Road”
more than C-19 in jukebox glow
a motto now to live by, my new way
of surviving a blues-soaked life
I thought might be bearable,
even classically nice,
until I got one of my own.

We should have left NJ last winter
before the chill set in, escaping our
inevitable for a mountain view,
but you loved that goddamn city
and I loved you...
god, how I loved you.

Find me in a crowd sometime
and brush against me
so I’ll still remember.

Submitted on 2009-08-29 14:36:42 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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1: >_<
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||| Comments |||
  This is a really powerful piece that permeates my being, i am so touched by this in ways you cannot imagine. It is like a deep personal feeling revealed to us and laid out in such a way that i feel i am part of it and it speaks to me personally. This is a true artform expressed and definitely a piece for the fav section! This was truly heartfelt and there is not really any room for critique here as this is more of a deeper sincere piece than a mere fabrication. Thanks for sharing this!

:-)

-Svw
| Posted on 2009-09-10 00:00:00 | by Clayman | [ Reply to This ]
  each subsequent time i read this it gives me shivers, and i confess, makes tears well up. i'm such a sook.

but seriously, the overwhelming truth of this permeates throughout, makes me... remember situations like this i've been in - albeit with different names and places. poetry like this with heart and artfulness is what i'm always drawn to.

so there you go.
now i'm sniffly.
all your fault.
| Posted on 2009-09-04 00:00:00 | by meoww | [ Reply to This ]
  This is so beautiful. I guess it touches me so because I've been working on a piece that can be its cousin (or second cousin.) It's very strong but it moves with such grace and class. The way by which you licked your wounds with this one is endearing.

I like the style you chose in this one. It was somber and had a high tone of gloom without depriving it of color. The neatness by which you put in several elements was quite impressive.

And my God that ending... It was simple. But I can't imagine it being any other way because your method of weaving toward it, the way you held on to it and the way you provided its release just feels like the right thing to do. It's like having this wild thing in your hand but you hold on to it with poise to until it is tired enough or you have taken enough from it. And when you finally open your palm, the essence is already tame.

The ending also feels like a force that goes beyond the piece, a sigh of relief that comes after its creation. Perhaps I am going out on a limb to say this but I envy how this must've felt after. Really impressive.

I wish I could say more but Keith (awkward) and Jayde (someone's epiphany) have already tackled them.

I'm glad I dropped by to day.
I'm glad I read this piece.
| Posted on 2009-09-02 00:00:00 | by ANGELO | [ Reply to This ]
  this explores all the facets of death and grieving that could only be put to words by someone who has experienced them in a real way..

i read this piece and i cried.
honest.

there are a whole lot of things that jump out at me.
here are a few accompanied with a ramble or four..

your god made of loyal you

this line interests me because you take no share in his spiritual affiliations and yet i can see that you recognize his loyalty... reminds me of a line from a laura marling song "oh the gods that he believes never fail to amaze me" and then later on in the song it says "oh the gods that he believes never fail to disappoint me" [my manic and i... a good song...]

even the way you weave the idea of his passing into the piece without saying it outright.. it ripped right through me... the blues and the greys and the cold...

and then theres your response to his passing... wearing his clothes... trying to find his scent... trying to relive everything you knew of him in hopes that he wouldnt seem so gone...

sometimes i get upset that the boy i loved's voice is no longer clear in my mind.. i know EXACTLY what he would say and how he would respond in situations, even now 5 years later, but i can no longer hear his voice in my mind which gets me all upset when i think about it too much..

i think you have your own blues soaked life... theyre never as glamourous as theyre portrayed to be despite the beauty found in the saddest of minor/diminshed keys...

the second last stanza... the what ifs... the how to keep him alive... its the most crippling stage of grief to go through i think... our minds are our own weapons in this stage and there seems to be no escaping...

the last stanza makes me cry.
even today.
i pray that there are moments of remembering

incredible piece.
incredible you.
| Posted on 2009-08-31 00:00:00 | by Someones Epiphany | [ Reply to This ]
  i think anything written in memoria stands a chance of working - working is too obtuse a word but you will know what i mean...

it stands a better chance when the order and the tone are unified in a way that demands attention and in this respect i do think that you have done that well.

it is appropriate too to use the i word and you have done - it is something i tend to shy away from because i can cause a degree of ownership that disallows sharing in the true sense. it works here because for i read you; or us; or them...

some points of detail but that is all they are:

Last One Standing went from joke
to bitter irony (when), one pale shade past
morgue blue, gray angel wings descend(ed),
to clean up the mess your god made
of loyal you.

I wore your clothes for a long while;
casino padding floors in too-big shoes;
smoking cigars and reliving you
at craps tables and boxing events;
(a) strange dyke-type in striped wool pants,
tipping her matching derby hat…
“One More Drink For My Baby,
And One More For The Road”
more than C-19 in jukebox glow
a motto now to live by,
my new way of surviving a blues-soaked life,
(that) I thought might be bearable,
even classically nice,
until I got one of my own.

...and brush (up) against me.

deliciously bleak and heartfelt. i can feel the drizzle that goes with being awake and outdoors at 3am...

take it easy mate,

k
| Posted on 2009-08-30 00:00:00 | by Awkward | [ Reply to This ]

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