Awkward (a tribute)
Posted: Tue Feb 26, 2008 1:22 pm
"Music is good to the melancholy, bad to those who mourn,
and neither good nor bad to the deaf" – Baruch Spinoza
The first time I saw him, I quickened.
I knew it well. Gentle face, fierce eyes and
An ecstatic body that would not move right.
It never obeyed.
You said awkward; he moved dangerously,
High seas close to the surface could rupture
And over the dam his innards would spill.
His eyes swelled afraid.
A look of near madness, you called it,
When bold eyes wandered glassily about,
Hungrily searching; wondering what
Would bring the next hope
To feed a too calm façade. He looked. Sharp.
Probing. Then: there were always the pills, drink,
Smoke, words. He could fill with substances the
Groaning cracks and fight
A core of curious passivity.
And there it was - the Achilles heel - pain.
He would wait it out, stand rigid, wait it out.
It would pass… again.
Then one night it did not pass for him.
The words were insufficient because he
Had lost control. So, to the sounds of
Days when people hoped,
He ended it. Stopped swimming against the
High seas. Like a stony feather, succumbed.
But I have fire; stronger than your
Frozen appraisal.
and neither good nor bad to the deaf" – Baruch Spinoza
The first time I saw him, I quickened.
I knew it well. Gentle face, fierce eyes and
An ecstatic body that would not move right.
It never obeyed.
You said awkward; he moved dangerously,
High seas close to the surface could rupture
And over the dam his innards would spill.
His eyes swelled afraid.
A look of near madness, you called it,
When bold eyes wandered glassily about,
Hungrily searching; wondering what
Would bring the next hope
To feed a too calm façade. He looked. Sharp.
Probing. Then: there were always the pills, drink,
Smoke, words. He could fill with substances the
Groaning cracks and fight
A core of curious passivity.
And there it was - the Achilles heel - pain.
He would wait it out, stand rigid, wait it out.
It would pass… again.
Then one night it did not pass for him.
The words were insufficient because he
Had lost control. So, to the sounds of
Days when people hoped,
He ended it. Stopped swimming against the
High seas. Like a stony feather, succumbed.
But I have fire; stronger than your
Frozen appraisal.