Aging Guitar
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Description:
I could write more, in the memory of my dearest el abuelo, best man who's ever coaxed those spirited tunes from one such battered and aged guitar.
Aging Guitar
There, we left Lolo at the pier. Waving to us- an enormous ship bounding away from his heartland, with a tireless grace. And while the ocean's tumblings arrested my guts during our journey, I suspected he walked on home and drank sweet jugs of tu-ba.' It really is heart-sickening to awaken without the memory of his strums of lullaby the night before...They danced so well in my ears, washing so cleanly as the sea. Those lonely hands wound up fishing nets at dawn, pinched out candles at night, and sang two more years of desparing heart-ache- from that day I last saw him at the pier... |
Submitted on 2004-10-09 01:03:04 Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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Thanks for sharing an intimate story through this piece. I like that it takes it's time and does not drag the reader through. It feels soft, sad, and accepting.| | Posted on 2008-02-10 00:00:00 | by ashik | [ Reply to This ] | Honestly I just didn't understand it. Does the title have anything to do with the writing? Is it a guitar? No understand. | | Posted on 2007-09-23 00:00:00 | by deranged shadow | [ Reply to This ] | Nice one, I am really starting to appreciate your work. The imagery and feeling is very good. It's like reading an old black and white photo. Very well done. | | Posted on 2005-07-29 00:00:00 | by Malcolm Bishop | [ Reply to This ] | You know what? Once I get this site figured out and know how the damn buttons work, I'll be able to add this to my Favorites AND figure out how to do that stalk thing, too. (I know it's somewhere in the fine print in an obscure link, but I just haven't found it yet with my time limits online!) | I found this one due to your commented post, and it is awesome. I don't know why I'm so driven to get to some remote spot that most people born there would be clawing to get out of, but I want it so bad, and this took me there. I am imagining (mental movie scene) watching your grandfather growing smaller and more distant as the ship takes you away to a busy huge world where those strums are forever gone, and the ending was so wonderful: "Those lonely hands wound up fishing nets at dawn, pinched out candles at night, and sang two more years of desparing heart-ache- from that day I last saw him at the pier..." because it ends, without him dying... it just ends with the same quiet grace and dignity of the life that was lived. "and sang two more years..." I can't think of a more beautiful or loving tribute. We should all hope to have our lives drawn and displayed with such loving clarity by someone who cared about us, once we're gone. | Posted on 2005-08-05 00:00:00 | by grey_girl | [ Reply to This ] | I really enjoyed reading this. Your poetry has a way to move people, I took this to heart to because i play the guitar and sometimes I feel like playing sad tunes that my hands mark. Its all part of life I guess. Well see you around Bye. | Your freind Medieval Aztec | Posted on 2005-02-12 00:00:00 | by Medieval Aztec | [ Reply to This ] | "It really is heart-sickening to awaken without the memory of his strums of lullaby the night before...They danced so well in my ears, washing so cleanly as the sea. " | This is my favorite. It makes me think of how every morning my dad comes into my room with tea for me to wake me up. It make's me remember how I feel sick when I wake up and for a split second I think everything is normal and then, I remember. | Posted on 2005-01-15 00:00:00 | by LucyDiamond | [ Reply to This ] | this is very touching and haunting. i was attracted by the title, "Aging Guitar." i have a 12-string that is about 26 years old. he's in the shop now, having a "face lift." this is really beautiful, and a touching olde to your abuelo. sweet. |  | Posted on 2004-11-08 00:00:00 | by magnicat | [ Reply to This ] | "the ocean's tumblings arrested my guts" is a clear and definite statement. I so well still remember when I was on the Randolph, a troop carrier, on my way to Ulm,a port city in Germany. | To me, your best statement is: Those lonely hands wound up fishing net at dawn. A good write. I need more of your work to contemplate. | Posted on 2004-10-14 00:00:00 | by realpoet | [ Reply to This ] | "the ocean's tumblings arrested my guts" is a clear and definite statement. I so well still remember when I was on the Randolph, a troop carrier, on my way to Ulm,a port city in Germany. | To me, your best statement is: Those lonely hands wound up fishing net at dawn. A good write. I need more of your work to contemplate. | Posted on 2004-10-14 00:00:00 | by realpoet | [ Reply to This ] | i argee a very nostalgic piece, but more on the film noir specturm, this remensent of every fogy goodbye...very beautifull, you mix in your own style with a classic good bye. you do thought prosses wounderful...and like always very visual...have you made attemps at story or novel writing? if so i hope you post them...you can make wonderful situations. | milo | Posted on 2004-10-09 00:00:00 | by milo stills | [ Reply to This ] | nostalgic tale... drifted from one thought to another with ease. the dramatic shift and the pulsation of memories gave it somewhat complicated undertones... quite a gem... actually. | | Posted on 2004-10-09 00:00:00 | by ANGELO | [ Reply to This ] | I am such a fool for not coming back to read your work sooner. Your wording is so awkwardly beautiful. I never have to expect "the norm" from you. I love your style. This is another unique piece of you, that I am glad you shared :) | | Posted on 2004-11-01 00:00:00 | by nicelyJ | [ Reply to This ] | |
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