Bobby Jameson

A written history of Bobby Jameson and his search through the past. Working my way back through the jungle of drug addiction and booze. My family life as a kid was the breeding ground for addicts. No self worth, no help, and one chance to get out alive. Music was the horse I rode out on...and the music business was the horse I rode into hell. Pronounced dead twice from drug over doses, I lived to tell how the pursuit of fame is as deadly as any narcotic I have ever used.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

SIXTY-SIX

SIXTY-SIX AND BROKEN
SIXTY-SIX ALONE
SIXTY-SIX AND COUNTING
KICK ANOTHER STONE

THIRTY-THREE WAS HALF OF IT
THIRTY-THREE AHEAD
THIRTY-THREE IN MISERY
I SHOULD HAVE DIED INSTEAD

FORTY-FOUR IN DARKNESS
FORTY-FOUR IN PAIN
FORTY-FOUR AND PLENTY MORE
TO DRIVE MY MIND INSANE

FIFTY-FIVE AND STILL ALIVE
FIFTY-FIVE IN FEAR
FIFTY-FIVE I DID SURVIVE
I HOPE THE END IS NEAR

SIXTY-SIX OF WANDERING
SIXTY-SIX IN YEARS
SIXTY-SIX OF STACKING STICKS
AND COUNTING ALL THE TEARS

Bobby Jameson August 14, 2011

1 comment:

Tim McMullenAugust 16, 2011 at 1:32 AM
I like the premise and the form—in particular, the anaphora (repetition of a phrase at the beginning of multiple lines); it presents a powerful cadence for a heart-rending cry.

I turn 63 next month. I don't intend to write about it...but we'll see how it speaks to me then.
Tim
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