Ron's dismissal

[mat james]

Ron’s dismissal

Opal Hotel,
dimly lit bar
open fire
and Ronny sitting at his table
by the arch
rolling a smoke;
he’s 84
offers me the can
and after a little prompt
slips into another chapter
of his life.

I love chatting with Ron
so many fascinating stories
like the boyhood tale
he and his dad
seasonal workers
under a bridge for three days
waiting for a pick-up
any pick-up
for a long desert run south;

or the concise exit
of his wife of 50 years;
“I don’t need you any more.”

Mat

[lizzytysh]

Your poems tend to poignancy and surprize endings.
I thought Ron must have lost his job in the mines.
It seems he lost his job above ground, instead.
It feels as though Ron was a good provider and likely more.
How shocking and sad for Ron.


~ Lizzy

[Cate]

I can almost see Ron sitting there rolling his smokes - I love listening to people who can tell a good story.
His wife seemed to be very to the point. I guess he must have been of some use for the first 50 years.
50 years - man oh man, not many can say that.

[mat james]

Hi Lizzy and Cate,
thanks for being there.

Your poems tend to poignancy and surprize endings. (Lizzy)

Yes, I suppose they do and I tend to craft them that way, half-consciously. But the intent to hit the mark concisely is ever-present in my poetry these days.
I can't say the same for my commentaries on Leonard's poems and songs ...I tend to go all over the place there.
"Poignancy and surprise" Yes; very true Lizzy. Beautifully said.
Of course, I like your comment as it is a bit of a compliment. Thanks.

The situation /moment with Ron occurred many years ago (maybe 10?) and he popped into my mind again the other day and hence the poem. He seemed more bewildered than angry. He loved her and was surprised that she no longer loved him. It even went further than that, of course. He wondered if she ever loved him; and this caused him a silent sadness and sometimes muddy confusion; sad to watch. But he tended to round the reflections off with stoic philosophical cliche's, a slight rising of the shoulders and the offer of a beer or a drink for me.

She smoked and came to a nasty end. Ron said he would have been there for her, nursed her; but she had taken a different path and died alone.
He was accepting of both his and her fate in a way; not judgmental, just accepting.
There is a philosopher in every bar, just under the froth and bubble.

Mat.

[lizzytysh]

And one of the things that I've heard said more than once from more than one source is that alcoholics and drug addicts tend to be more emotional and sensitive than the norm. So, the survival instinct that manifests in 'the philosopher' isn't surprizing in its surfacing or its content.

Thanks so much for sharing this poem. I hit-and-miss here anymore, sometimes according to the poster and sometimes according to the poem's title. Then, whether or not I have time determines if I respond. Your poems make paying attention worthwhile.


~ Lizzy