Sunday, June 04, 2006

6.04.06, [Guest Blog, by David] "One Dirty & One Straight," Poem

[Good Sunday: David's sent in a post to be guest blogged and today is the day, could be seen as poem or travelogue or both and more, all there and unedited except one point five stanzas at the end where the narrative slightly trails. It holds together well nonetheless. It's great to see into this experience from the eyes of some perceptive others. And too, thanks to David for not having any drop lines or indents in what follows! (I apparently need to work on my HTML skills to be able to effectively indent. Who knew?) -Mr. J., and the title was picked out by the editor, second choice was "What Silence Suffices"--very nice, too, more serious tone though...]

"One Dirty & One Straight"

What silence suffices to enclose
or all that other messy self expression

Here at the intersection of Broadway and John
d waits for mr. j

All that traffic passes
(all that traffic passes includes me this time)

From somewhere somewhere bound
earnestly nudging the green go-ahead

When down the block
or up it

comes mr. j, the distinctive stride,
carriage, making his way

closer, he is as he ever was
thinner than I remember

who could ever watcha gonna

very focused, this young man
with his bit of beard, burns, earring

we walk away a block to foregather
over cups of coffee one palmiƩr

talked about many
imaginable and unimaginable things

occasional bouts of “chemo-brain” he laughed wry
as for a moment a book title or passage stayed away

right there, nothing changed, everything changes
changing change stays the same

so utterly random
“and unfair?” I ask

“No, because what does that make ‘fair’?”

Administrative bureaucratic practices are not

Cite that knowing attitude!
he’s say Why
not, why not why not why not
why not why not why not why
not why not why not why not
why not. Not why. Why not.

O the dim closeness
of the bar, the cheery
ineptitude of its tender
who with a muttered oath
spills with apologies the glass, it was
a glass of water which broke
as we leaped up (not us!) from
seats, seats at the bar, we
were seated at the bar with
a cheery pair of martinis,
one dirty & one straight

What do we talk about discuss what
the usual things the rain the car
caught in traffic the likelihood
of parking now at this hour how
the cats Yes Crantz and Icarus
one slightly distant there
one here on the floor urging
a pat touch word Tell us
Crantz, tell us how it was
at your doctor’s office this day

We had arrived from the rain
to a joyous greeting from someone’s pug named
Lucy and the phone rings it’s
a “call lost” there in the shelter
of the shelter.

Look, I might have said What what
and mr. j he say
Well, the
whole things be
what I what,
not what I meant but listen soon I will reveal
the recommendation,
what the counselor said

But here in the street now
runs an alley behind brick buildings
the rain not “heavy” in any sense
but falling steadily.

. . . [TBC?]

Franky Scale: I dare say 8, now that I'm two days into the glorious week of no chemo drugs at all; knock on wood — not that kind (boy this could get confusing; and too of course I've already received numerous emails about the hypothetical wood scale since that post, it's clear where the real interests lie...) — but do that or something else superstitious since my motility, as we like to say, is not ideal. The rest of my system seems to functioning fairly well. So 8 in the a.m., who knows where I'll find myself in the late p.m.?


lefty said...

You have truly made this a "Holy Day."
So beautiful, so splendid-- WOW.
More to say, but I need some time to compose myself and ponder before I write more.
Thank You.
Love to Mr. Jones, as always-

Slarry said...

Thank you so much. I too need a little more time before I properly thank you. You too, have a beautiful mind.
Love and gratitude,

Anonymous said...

What cancer cannot do
Cancer is so limited
It cannot cripple love
It cannot shatter hope
It cannot corrode faith
It cannot destroy peace
It cannot kill friendship
It cannot suppress memories
It cannot silence courage
It cannot invade the soul
It cannot steal eternal life
It cannot conquer the spirit
-Author Unknown

tossing salads said...

i am here sir spot. i guess i better use some of my air time to hear your voice. if spacely can talk to you i guess i can invade your space ;) i feel like im intruding into your time. cuz scott it is your time. to do with as you see fit. i want you to do with, be with, just do whatever hits your wood scale. teehee. so every so often i will call just to hear that beautiful voice.

pride was today. it was beautiful. it was such a pleasure to be there with my girl. we had a delightful time. obviously not as over the top as san frans but here in zion we are trying. love you brother and good thoughts your way.

Slarry said...

Hello to all of you in Spot and Mr Jones ville:
Something remarkable happened on Mr. Jones blog-- not just Davids incredible words, but Mr. Jones's mom, well, and my mom too-- finally got the chance to leave a "comment" for her one true son. ( She is slightly fond of him ).
So Ms. Nadester-- congratulations, I love what you wrote.!!! Deb and Garp, thanks for the assisstance.
I loved what you wrote. And even though you signed it anonymously,
it was positive, encouaging and touching.
It can't supress splendid memories
It can't destroy love, especially the love between a mother and her son.
And it can't minimize or deter Mr. Jones's strength, courage, insight,
soul, empathy or his beautiful mind.
You are the one who helped teach him these things and grow into the man he is today.
All of the things you taught us-- you teach us still. (even when you are a pill ) : )
We love you, Mom, and want you take care of yourself.
So when you read the blog and the comments of love and support for your son and our brother, uncle, friend-- please know that we are extolling your virtures and honoring you, as well.
Love and Kisses-
Cannonball Butt aka Slarry aka Sheri #2