Dying Requests
Before I die
Light these Roman candles
Like a bartender pours 3 double-shots in a row
Across glass molds formed from ounces blown
Without break to flow phelgmatic
In jest congestion; the hypocritically kind—
Exiled into passive-aggression
Too young for hardened arteries
Too old repeats inside my mind
Biochemical cured concrete
Spun within human drums
Arrhythmic beatings
Spread feelings harden
Dendritic shorts come to naught
Failed circuit switch
Mined powder, dementia
Whitewashing anguish
Extinguishing, we perish
Each cause ill fate
Go ahead and stare at me…
I will never blink
Being partly there
No smoking hot Medusa
Wilting willow hair for snakes
Think of me as Dostoyesky
Hearing appraisal howls
Trumpet blares, wailing wolf
Rejoicing from inner war
Before night quells peace
When missing sentences kill
Me, Anna Karenina
This solitude, an empty room
Torture acts
Beyond contemplation
Mourning life
Lost sight
Truth lies
Self taken
Arresting spirit, one-way vacation
Upon snowflake-pattern doily
A flower vase empty, missing blooms
Frost replaced spring afternoons
Table-sized at grandma’s
Fighting epileptic agony
“Verily, Verily, I say unto you,”
What is memory
When depression wills?
Light unto infinity
Judgments nobody asks until
March 13, 2011 at 12:43 am
By far one of your very best. Amazing.
March 13, 2011 at 12:52 am
Thank you, Sir
March 13, 2011 at 1:23 am
Slow suicide, dying inside…..wowww. Incredibly written and strong! This should be an ad for smoking cessation! Great Photo prompt challenge! 🙂 Excellent Adam! ~April
March 13, 2011 at 1:54 am
wow.. just when I thought it was safe to go to sleep.. may have to revisit for reread tomorrow (hmm, guess it is) Edgy, but with heart, bravo.
March 13, 2011 at 4:23 am
a frenzied ride through the tattered life of a walking corpse…stare i won’t blink.truly tremendous piece!
March 13, 2011 at 5:46 am
You really went for this one, I could see the believe and passion behind every line I read, a beautiful piece friend
March 13, 2011 at 6:00 am
A great write Adam, it really hits home and I’m a non smoker ;).
Anita.
March 13, 2011 at 6:20 am
dude this is a wicked write…marvelous flow and word play…hard to pick just one but the arresting spirit stanza i think was my fav…vivid imagery of one losing life one toke at a time…
March 13, 2011 at 6:44 am
Look to long in the mirror darkly and the medusan meltdown starts. You caught the snarl of it.
March 13, 2011 at 7:36 am
incredible words, derived and delivered…your ability to drift and weave is admirable…she deserved them
Peace, hp
March 13, 2011 at 8:03 am
The whole thing packs a punch, Adam, but the first two stanzas especially.
The “hypocritically kind” and the “dendritic shorts come to nought” I particularly liked.
March 13, 2011 at 8:32 am
When I saw the photo prompt this morning, I was reminded of the Jane Fonda movie, “They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?” Your poem, with all its rich complexity, captures that same sense. Well done, Adam.
March 13, 2011 at 8:44 am
wicked flow in this adam – you had me from the roman candles and double-shots
and as always – enjoyed to heart you read it
March 13, 2011 at 8:45 am
–enjoyed to hear you read it– i meant..
March 13, 2011 at 9:05 am
Powerful!
♥ ஆεlεɳa ~.^
March 13, 2011 at 9:23 am
Actually felt the sadness through this poem. Doling out death in doubles glasses, now that’s an amzing line for any poem. You keep on getting better Adam.
March 13, 2011 at 9:40 am
There are so many fav lines through out this one – bravo!
March 13, 2011 at 11:11 am
This obviously opened a door for you, adam. What an excellent piece, full of depth and complexity and taking the reader through a graveyard where every tombstone has an epitaph that must be read and assimilated. I was particularly struck by the thousand yard stare, Medusa ref and the willow/ snake hair. Just fine stuff.
March 13, 2011 at 11:46 am
i have read this three times and think i’ll be back for more. an absolutely brilliant poem, Adam. are you an ex-smoker by any chance?
March 13, 2011 at 12:04 pm
Wow….just wow. This is one of your very best by far – so poignant, so true to life. Outstanding piece!
March 13, 2011 at 12:51 pm
Some heavy last requests for this soul…a slow dying of body awaiting relief and rest….lots of thoughts…rolled into this write…Nice Write Dustus…bkm
March 13, 2011 at 1:31 pm
I love the literary allusions in the piece, and of course the reference to Medusa is striking. The flow/voice is unrelenting as if indeed chiseling not merely tombstone but the reader’s psyche. “That is fate/ We are the dirt / I am afraid”–profound truth spoken as a dying wish. An excellent write, Adam.
March 13, 2011 at 1:52 pm
A very strong and lyrical poem…with such powerful undertones in it…kudos!
March 13, 2011 at 2:10 pm
Holy cow, Adam, that is absolutely magnificent! No one can weave words together as you can, to take us on such a ride into the veins of so many places unknown, yet made so familiar by your unique voice.
Wow!
xo
March 13, 2011 at 3:35 pm
This is way over the top fabulous– I concur that it is among your very very best– I loved No smoking hot Medusa
Wilting willow hair for snakes
Think of me as Dostoyesky
Hearing appraisal howls
Trumpet blares, wailing wolf
Rejoicing from inner war
Before night quells peace
When missing sentences kill
Me, Anna Karenina
This solitude, an empty room
Torture acts
Beyond contemplation
Mourning life
Lost sight
Truth lies
Self taken
You took many risks of emotion and language in this poem, as if you had let yourself go. That is what it takes to write brilliantly, I believe. sometimes very hard to do. xxxj
March 14, 2011 at 11:06 am
I feel honored by your compliment—all the more so because I respect your artistry, as well as your own continuous effort to take emotional risks. I attempt to improve on craft with each write, and your encouragement helps me. Thank you, Jenne.
March 13, 2011 at 4:28 pm
Adam, a powerful presentation with your words, but I still like me a
cigarette or two:)
March 13, 2011 at 4:37 pm
That image is very arresting. Fits your poem perfectly.
March 13, 2011 at 5:15 pm
Adam, again, your vocabulary both intimidates and inspires, making me want to do more and write more. From open to close, I couldn’t have stopped reading even if I wanted to…and then back for more. There was a passion here that you ran with, growing stronger and more intense with each line. Fantastic, wonderful, FELT…I can only hope to one day write this way…SERIOUSLY!
March 14, 2011 at 11:08 am
lol I am a proud “word-nerd” Tasha. I appreciate the vote of confidence.
March 13, 2011 at 9:33 pm
Wow an incredible list of tough images.
It’s one of those poems you cant just read once.
What a statement
March 14, 2011 at 11:28 am
You have found a new fan in me dustus.
*
Into the ground and die
When hammers chiseling tragedy
Carved below an arc of slate
To make the place of rest, decay
For all our flesh
That is fate
We are the dirt
I am afraid
*
my favorite in this wrote
Wonder in imagery this.
March 14, 2011 at 4:49 pm
oh my word! listening to you read that out loud… touched me deep…..
March 14, 2011 at 5:16 pm
Honestly, I had to take the time to reread and absorb this overwhleming panorama of brokenness that you present without the messiness of such state. Brilliant! Awesome! Jenne’s quotes are mine too. But I would rather quote the whole poem… Thanks, Adam!
March 15, 2011 at 1:11 pm
Adam,
This is overwhelming. a complete stream of consciousness it seems compared to your usual writing. Like others have said, the depth and intensity of emotions hit me like a freight train!
Also, many amazing references [medusa, Tolstoy’s character (funny, I was just looking at that book last night) , neuro implications of alzheimer’s/dementia, depression…]
My fav visual line is this, however: “wax-sealed
Penny lain upon each eye” …it is so concrete and morbid. enjoyed it all…thanks.
Sheila
March 16, 2011 at 12:46 pm
Graphically lit imagery, literary references, anatomical language– this poem has a little bit of everything, making quite a story. Bravo.
March 16, 2011 at 7:54 pm
So many striking images – wild work.