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Wed 7 May, 2003 12:01 pm
RAVAGED LOOK BLUES
Living in his glory times
Ravaged looks, a lived in face
Older than the years he's lived
Scrawny body, withered down
Count the bottles, read the lines
Body clock is losing hours
Lives at night, plays power riffs
Fast and loose, but now he's gone
and cooked his goose
even then he stuffed his head
Crotchets, quavers, coke & grass
Built his life in music madness
Record sales beyond belief
Toured and played in front of millions
Pressure rose to keep on selling
Light relief with boozy days
Carnal moments come and go
Private moments powder lines
Broke the magic spell he'd grown
Multiplied his daily doses
He'd
Made his name
Made his money
Made his way
Made his downfall
Lost his nerve
Lost his skill
Lost his contracts
Lost his mind
Went cold turkey
still got burnt
Now he's broken, trying detox
Doctor says sorry pal
Liver's shot
Kidneys blasted
Not long left, what a bastard
Now dripping ink on desk and paper
this young old man rewrites his will
leaves it all to his young wench
along with some unspoken illness
picked up in North Africa
now dying in his glory times
© john nunn may 2003
John, This is one of your best.
"Ravaged look, a lived in face " particularly caught my attention, and just when you think that the poem is sad, you see the end descend and realize that there are really no heroes, just shards of glass that cut both ways.
So many things overshadow the poet, but this poem is timeless.
Pausing to take it in.
John, this is the most powerful, no-holds-barred thing you've written. This is life without any happy ending, even passing a disease along as a reminder of the wasted life that continues to destroy after death.
This goes right to the gut.
thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou
Yikes - I can really put myself in here and there on many parts.
Very Good!
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