Thursday, 25 August 2011
The Truth of Old Man Joe
I could tell you a thousand lies. I could tell you a thousand truths. There is no difference. I could tell you I threw the pills out the window. To test the trajectory. I could tell you I pulled the wires because I don’t want you to see my heart. There is no line to say. No alarm to signal. That I am not the body which lies in front of you. I am nothing. No sound. No mark. I have been walking for a thousand years but haven’t moved an inch. I believe what I let you see. I exist between the green. Adapting. I can be anything you want. I prostitute my body and mind for the penny that opens the door. It is more than disappearance. More than nothing. More than absence. More than ever and ever. I am old man Joe. I live in old man Joe’s toilet. I will never leave. The smell of ammonia and dirt in my hair will never move my feet. I already walk in a thousand dreams. I glide in a world you cannot touch or measure. Rip from me. The blood red is in my hand and I lick it up like milk. I am wedged sleeping dreaming cradled in these tiles savouring the smell of every morning disappeared.
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Powerful and impressive, the lingering of (guilt, hatred, angst, humanity) is potent and makes the presence felt throughout this piece. Sort of like a king of a small nation.
ReplyDeleteFantastic piece, glad you shared and glad to see you're still around and kicking!
Old Man Joe is a world traveler...don't ya reckon?
ReplyDeleteWow! So glad to read you once again. Lie a little, lie a lot, it really doesn't matter. You are the creative genius that holds the pen, drops the ink, and laughs and cries! You are young and yet you have walked a thousand dreams, that cannot be measured! The red in your hand is life, and it beacons you, lick it up! I love this piece and you!
ReplyDeleteThanks Leiffy - yep, still around and kicking..will be over to yours soon..Jae
ReplyDeleteOld Man Joe walks into a 'Bright Shiny Morning'..(I borrowed him from James Frey)..he travels his own world..but has to leave his toilet first..thanks Glenn..
ReplyDeleteThank you Annell...good to pick up the red pen again..xoxo
Jae
A compelling, heart-wrenching piece...
ReplyDeleteOld Man Joe is not the being everybody thinks he is. He is more... much, much more.
ReplyDeleteThanks Laurie..
ReplyDeleteIt's funny how names become thrown at you because they are throw-away..meaningless almost..without a point of reference..let's hope s/he is more..thanks Kim
I have actually known a couple of Old Man Joes, one of whom really did occasionally sleep in a public toilet. He could have changed - but chose not to!
ReplyDeleteFor a minute I thought "I" was a ghost. I love the line about tossing the pills out the window.
ReplyDeleteOld man Joe is everything and nothing, exists yet doesn't, he lives in the smell of the grout between the tiles on the walls yet, is flushed away with every flush.
ReplyDeleteIncredible imagery. I can almost smell the stink that comes from public toilets. Ghastly! LOL
Fabulous write from you, again.
powerful piece and haunting as well.
ReplyDeleteThe good thing about this sad post is all the positives among the negatives. She (he?) must keep walking in her (his) thousand dreams while the horror swirls around and one day it will be gone and all the hurt will be cast aside. Really gritty piece Jae. The reader is vividly thrust into a world of which they know and can do nothing.
ReplyDeleteI had to go away and then come back and read this again. It speaks to me of the countless who live on the edge of our vision, between the lines, the ones we pass and avert our eyes. It shook me to the core. I have not read the book so I had no prior reference to Old Man Joe but it touched me deeply, maybe more so because I read it my own way.
ReplyDeleteThank you Altonian, Alice, DayDreamer, Sheilagh, OldEgg and Dee..Jae
ReplyDeleteAh, I feel, from your post, that I really know Old Man Joe! Dynamic read.
ReplyDeleteP.S. Your work (this write and the one before) is unique! I will 'follow' what you write from this point on!
ReplyDeleteJae, you write in crimson tones... wondered about Old Man Joe; glad you explained, I was a bit stumped there. The tossing pills out the window and pulling the wires. You challenge me with your writing, and you always manage to strike a complete unique chord in my soul. Amy
ReplyDeletehttp://sharplittlepencil.wordpress.com/2011/08/24/bitter-fruits/
Thank you Mary - and it's great to have you follow along..thanks..Jae
ReplyDeleteThank you Amy..spoken like a musician hearing the words as well as reading them..Jae