# If You had only Shot up Bach



## SilverMoon (Jun 4, 2011)

I remember you,
fresh as orange juice
in mornings.


A white laundered 
pillow near my ear,
after the love making.

Heart  
pink, stainless,
from the blood of life.

Your hands 
more beautiful
than your face, 
chiseled.

They that built 
the harpsichord,
that portal to Bach,
where you played
the “Brandenburg Concertos”
with the fervor of his student.

I fell in love with the arms, wrists,
which allowed your long fingers 
to milk the ivory.

The Joy! 
Organ Chorale fantasia ~ 

I never meant to leave.
It's just that Madness 
had his way with me.

Then I, no longer
pure of mind,
was too shy 
for you to see
my eyes undressed.

Time is a dime.
You flip the coin
and if it’s the right face 
you might meet a mélange 
of seraphim disguised as 
whores or pushers
on a cracked city street,
always waiting for someone.

Time is a crime.
You think of 
30 years passed
since you loved the
hands of a genius.

One day the coin
landed on the right face
though, tarnished.

_“Laurie?”_　 　 

I didn't recognize 
your hands
as one wiped off 
the sweat from your brow.

Orange juice gone rancid.

Dirty pillow marks 
etched on your face.

Your heart no longer pink,
nor even red, but black
as if it had seen 
too many funerals.

The arms, the wrists
which allowed your fingers 
to milk the ivory
wore long thin felonies of 
track marks.

We went into a neglected diner.

You spoke of 
dealers and hammers.

How your only dreams
were the nod.

Dirty needles shared
like a good meal.

You spoke of rat rugs.

Methadone 
cleaned you up but 
stole your teeth.

A scarred lip
still bleeding.

Nails bitten 
from what was left,
as if from wolves.

I looked into your eyes
and probed for Bach.


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## Trides (Jun 4, 2011)

Why, I LOVE the Brandenburg Concertos! I'm learning one right now on my fiddle!
Very original and "fresh as orange juice."
Like how you turned everything around in the second half, a perfect 180.
Beauty, music and love versus filth, sadness, and neglect. Awesome.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 4, 2011)

The concertos on the fiddle! I wager my protagonist might take to this! Thanks for getting the 180. That's what I was aiming for. The turn of a life. Thanks, Trides.


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## Trides (Jun 4, 2011)

Wait a moment, who is it based off of, then?


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## SilverMoon (Jun 4, 2011)

An old boyfriend - met up 30 some odd years later. The world once ahead of him he turned into a junkie. Off methadone and now clean.


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## Trides (Jun 4, 2011)

It does answer my question. :3 Now it all makes sense. And good for you that you met him again, and good for him, that he's getting back on track.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 4, 2011)

Glad it's more clear.


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## Angel101 (Jun 4, 2011)

I really liked this piece, being able to relate to it myself. Visually, the short lines and stanzas actually remind me of track marks running down the page. Not sure if that was intended or not, but for me, it made the poem more impactful. I also really liked your voice in this piece. Even though I already knew it was a personal piece, I think your voice would have made it feel that way, even if I hadn't known part of the story. I think that's a wonderful thing. Means you're connecting.

Here are a couple of my favorite parts:



> on a cracked city street.


 
I love the double meaning there. Again, not sure if it was intentional, but well done indeed!



> Your heart no longer pink,
> or even red, but black
> as if had seen
> too many funerals.
> ...


 
Both of these stanzas were just lovely.



> I look into your eyes
> and probe for Bach.


 
The ending here was probably my favorite part. I love the idea of probing. The first thing that enters into my mind when I think of probing is actually a needle. I enjoyed that irony. For me, that just made the piece. 

And, of course, I also love the 180 here. The complete transformation of life. That's what happens with drugs. The transformation doesn't always end so well, as we both know. But I'm glad he has his life back on track. That's wonderful, even with all the damage that was done along the way. 



> Nails bitten
> from what was left,
> as if from wolves.



I wasn't so fond of this part. I think I'd prefer a metaphor instead of a simile here. But that's probably just a personal taste thing. 

But really, a lovely and personal piece. Thank you so much for sharing this.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 4, 2011)

Deleted


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## Squalid Glass (Jun 6, 2011)

Sigh - this is a poem after my heart. I just love the snippets of memory. There is enough said to show the image, but then you pull back just before it becomes cluttered or sentimental. This is my favorite kind of poem. And the pacing is spot on. It has a very rhythmic quality that feels perfectly melancholy. I had to send this to a friend of mine. I thought she might relate well.

My thoughts:




SilverMoon said:


> I remember you,
> fresh as orange juice
> in the morning. *This is such a wonderful simile to start with. Very powerful.*
> 
> ...


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## Nellie (Jun 6, 2011)

Wow, Laurie!  This one really left me speechless!  A very powerful poem with good imagery and simile(s). Also, I know it is an all telling story and know it was difficult to write.  



> Time is a dime.
> You flip the coin
> and if it’s the right face
> you might meet a mélange
> ...



And this is, IMO, the most powerful. It is my favorite stanza of the poem. 

Thanks for sharing the story with us


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## Gumby (Jun 6, 2011)

Some very good images here, Laurie and an interesting story too. I'm glad your friend has stayed clean, bravo for him.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 6, 2011)

Glass, this _is_ the poem which will always be my favorite as I reflected with great effort, very aching at times. Love, separation, tragedy and the painful searching for what was known, as expressed in the last two lines. I believe writing is much about the marriage between the emotions and the intellect. Or, if you will, the right and left brain dance. You need to stand back safely when writing a piece like this (so personal - true to life) then zoom in bravely but making sure, as you inferred, it’s void of over sentimentality. Really, in the end it’s about “balance.”

Your comments were not only generous but insightful and heartfelt. And that you sent it off to a friend? Now, this makes me feel like a true contributor to a life. Thank you and thank you for the whole of this. 

*"You know better than anyone why this would be my favorite line."*

Would we have it any other way? _wink _There's a fine line, as they say.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 6, 2011)

Cindy, you pointed to one of my favorite stanzas. Angels disquised as the low lifers. My point. Are we all not born angelic? Can't people see beyond the sad face of the clown? And you, my friend, left speechless? Really, it can't be!
Thank you so much for your lovely comments.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 6, 2011)

And onto my other friend, Cindy. Thank you so much for appreciating the imagery. For me this is the fun part of writing. And thank you for your well wishing,


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## wood (Jun 7, 2011)

i live for tales of second chances, part of my nature i guess.  you have strong control over flow and image, and you handle these scenes with a delicate touch.  everything in this felt well times and places, ver impressive.  i enjoyed this very much.

wood


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## Glass Pencil (Jun 7, 2011)

I didn't really like this poem until the line "long thin felonies." I came into this with my decidely blue collar prejudice and baulked at all the mention of classical music as a means to convey gravity. But it really came together at the end and I, personally, feel that one line was just genius.


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## SilverMoon (Jun 7, 2011)

Thank you, wood. Your words are greatly appreciated. I see that you're new here and want to welcome you. Interested in knowing your writing genre(s).  Thanks, again. Laurie


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## PiP (Apr 14, 2016)

Thanks for pointing out this poem, SiverMoon.

It is indeed very sad. I particularly liked the ending




> Nails bitten
> from what was left,
> as if from wolves.
> 
> ...


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## midnightpoet (Apr 14, 2016)

Even as a "straight arrow," I understand this, and this poem speaks volumes about the ups and downs of life.  It hurt deeply when my son got into drugs, landed in jail.  I felt a failure as a father - but he did come out of it, got married, is doing well.  When we found "bong" in his room, we didn't even know what it was.  We used "tough love," threw him out.  He told me later he didn't want back in jail - hell, he was young, blond and blue-eyed and good looking.  I can imagine.  Anyway, great job.

Tony


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## SilverMoon (Apr 14, 2016)

Thanks, Pip and Tony. Well, after all, am glad you read this. This morning I took it down because I thought it would be too heavy for the "funny" thread and also edited copy.

He had everything ahead of him. Drop dead looks, genius IQ, multi-talented....he eventually married a stunning young underground actress who had a cult following. She turned him onto junk (in fact shot him up) from then on stories, worthy of a movie. We struck a friendship but shortly could not tolerate his symptoms from Frontal Lobe damage due to that deal that went wrong. His cognitive abilities stayed intact but had low impulse control and prone to violent outbursts

When we met he was clean and off Methadone. So I give him that. His brother tells me he's now in Texas living with his son who's a lawyer. I wish him the very best.


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## SilverMoon (Apr 14, 2016)

> It is indeed very sad. I particularly liked the ending....
> 
> Nails bitten
> from what was left,
> ...



Thanks, Pip. I was pleased with this ending. I was so packed with emotion, once home I had to write it out.
 ______________________________________________________________________________________    



> Even as a "straight arrow," I understand this, and this poem speaks volumes about the ups and downs of life.  It hurt deeply when my son got into drugs, landed in jail.  I felt a failure as a father - but he did come out of it, got married, is doing well.  When we found "bong" in his room, we didn't even know what it was.  We used "tough love," threw him out.  He told me later he didn't want back in jail - hell, he was young, blond and blue-eyed and good looking.  I can imagine.  Anyway, great job.
> Tony



 Tony, though I have no children, I can imagine how difficult it was for you. Despite healthy parenting  some kids just go this route. Bob and his siblings were all raised well. His brother and sisters never even smoked. Never a failure as a father.  Glad you gave him "tough love" Hey, without it who knows where he'd be now? You did good! 

 Again, thank you both! Laurie


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