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To A Dead Poet

I don't think I can come up with a fav poem of Steven's because for me, it's the immediate interaction of his poetry in the moment of our meeting on the page that made the relationship of poem to poet and poet to poet so precious
And now a voice is caught in my throat. I don't know if it's Steven's or mine. Maybe the muse that is the poetry of grief. My condolences to us all.


To A Dead Poet


I offer you grief
on handwritten skin
and its significance on papyrus
and parchment;
its muffled sound in the back
of a room I wandered in.


The curtain closes on a one-act play,
a ritual disturbance of water on fire.
I loved you too faraway,
too much and not enough
and after the deluge of all that rain,
how rainbows break into poems
when you are near.


Editing stage: 


This is Esker's response poem to my 1st poem submitted after Neopoet's crash. It speaks to how he was able to be present psychically, emotionally and poetically. Few of us are so gifted.

satchel and soft illumination

i remember exhaustion
that time of specific slumber
the mind wary but at ease
intuition slowing like dusk
like a morning
the last rays and the first
in that light

I was a traveller fleeing
emotional persecution
and then I met the real
souls that moved in the
winds of restless change
the hunters burned by
terrible hungers that their
vision was charred and
scarred in that cold rigidity
born or crafted forever
in their manner

and those whom had that
immense value of internal
humility and strength they
shone like the light of an
oasis to the thirsty and parched
chosing their hearts over hurt

somewhere in the smoke of
fires in my reflections
of searching
I was blinded and diluted
and the sound of poetry
in my mind sang
and I become whole
scarred but whole
but my vision was forever
changed my eyes distant
and searching beyond the
most immediate
wary of the storms

always watching

enjoyed this poetry very
much I remember my
packs the travelling
light with a heavy heart
and exposed soul

those times of tests
and finding faith in
myself and in others
who still believed.


This should be earmarked for Steven's In Memoriam Month.

author comment

I've been away from this site for a while.

It's painful to lose a creative friend. I'm sure Steven would be pleased by your poem.

by the way his words and those in awe of his words. We were in the presence of royalty,
and he would not reveal himself by manner or preference. He was ever humble.
~ Geez.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

(c) No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.