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idolotary....first part

…….she walked away

chained in the cobwebs
of the surgeons chair,
she spoke softly in my ear…
I heard her say

‘’you can’t leave me this way’’.

from beyond eternities,
I had to return
there was just no option
but her concern
she loved me more
God needed me less
I was left with no alternative,
I had to do an about turn..

we resumed another honey moon,
at an age others would smirk
but unmindful of the world
we walked the garden path
as before

now as I come home
to remove my black tie,
there is no tear
so still in my eye,
for if 'twere to fall by the corner,
I’d be like any other mourner….

but life without her
was unimaginable,
I moved into solitude
in a newer environment
I stand alone

...''where is the poetic justice
you all portray
couldn’t we have walked by eternity
together, the same happy way…
alas none can perhaps,
so I stand watching
in front of the mirror
searching for her…


1. Please note the I, here is as if
that friend were narrating the life's incidence.
Not I..

2. " The apostle (Paul) says to Timothy, and so he says to every preacher,
• “Give attendance to reading.”
• The one who never reads will never be read. He who never quotes will never be quoted. He who will not use the thoughts of other men’s brains proves that he has no brains of his own. Brethren, what is true of pastors is true of all our people - you need to read!” - Charles Haddon Spurgeon

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 


This to me is a beautiful piece, and a first for you to walk on the light side.
The emotion showed through and the fears were there in fact it was complete and a very good write,
Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

was a challenge given by Demon 77 ...I think...
its based on an actual passing by of a dear friends life...
it took me a few years
to put it into this shape .
I am really honoured you appreciated it as
you are no stranger to such ....

this is a sequel perhaps to my poetry
maybe you inadvertently


author comment

I wrote a comment on your wait for Me piece and was as most time s the first to do so..
Only the young Bards Glasses had slipped down his nose and he missed the first comment La La, Yours Ian.T
PS:- I am too old to Skip lol

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

At times my memory
of which I boast
fails then I catch it by the tail
throw it across that cliff,
where I once asked you to wait...

await, I shall revisit
if Shirley did permit
yes now I recall
you had said
the original one was still the best edit

I do remember Ian
all that your God gave to me
as a bath day present was
indelible memory
that now even you can see …
I recall your critique of me
being the foremost runner
to be the first ever
on the victory stand…


author comment

This moving piece touched me deeply. Lovely and sad...

where is the poetic justice
you all portray
couldn’t we have walked by eternity
together, the same happy way…
alas none can perhaps,
so I stand watching
in the mirror looking for her…

always, Cat

When you fling poo, some of the stink sticks to you!

"The Book of Styx" can be ordered and purchased on line at:

your requote
'....where is the poetic justice
you all portray
couldn’t we have walked by eternity
together, the same happy way…
alas none can perhaps,
so I stand watching
in the mirror
looking for her…...'''

brings a tear in my eyes,,,
for the friends loss
twas immense ...
as if it was a phase in passing
in any ones life

the story.poetry is true
for once..


author comment

I've always gotten the impression that you've been trying so hard to be germane and non-controversial that we don't see your true emotion. Now I must amend that and say, this is a strong, harrowing emotional piece that couldn't have been easy. I'm certainly sorry about you loss. My compliments are truly meant. You've taken a step in a good direction.

For me (and this is just my style), I'd be fiddling with the too-tight tie of my black suit trying to not talk to anyone but being assailed by fellow relatives I can't just scream at because their loss is equal to mine. Eventually at about the third hour I have enough. After looking at this dear, loved person in a satin padded box, made up like a bad summerstock actor with a little bit of air let out, I snap and turn on the whispering pious crowd.

"AHHHHHHHHH!" I scream, tears burning quick exit from both eyes. The shock in the room is palpable.
"Do you all think this is what she wanted? Hymns and quiet cnversation? She liked Billie Holliday, and Patsy Cline, and Dusty Springfield! What are these flowers? It doesn't make up for the months and years you ignored her when she was just down the street. Here take your flowers, put them in your houses and remember a lonely lady that I loved more than my self!"
I threw a big bouquet at the middle of the front row of chairs and started quickly to the door. I saw the mortician bee-lining toward me so I paused and said "DO SOMETHIN!" He sank back and said "Mr. Theiss, I know you're the next of kin, but you weren't here to confer with, so your aunt set up this ceremony."
"Well, I'll tell you what Stan!" he cringed at his name. "I want an Irish wake with a guest list and I want a break on the price." "I-I'm sure we can come to terms." I calmed somewhat, shaking his hand. I continued my rush to the door and lit up a smoke immediately. Before two minutes had gone by, I had a dozen cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces, and nephews standing around me smoking also. In turn they told me they agreed and would love to be allowed to attend the wake. To most of them, honored and beloved family members who loved her as much as I, I tearfully hugged them and said of course. In that night sky, somewhere, I imagined a no longer wizened face smiling down, saying "ATTA BOY!"


Blue Demon77

Blue Demon77

"What I want is to be what I was before the knife,
before the brooch pin, before the salve, fixed me in this parenthesis:
Horses fluent in the wind. A place, a time gone out of mind."

The Eye Mote-Sylvia Plath

I shall convey to the unfortunate guy
that tis his time to bide,
so let him no more moan
for a flower now torn
and petals strewn,
upon raw paths unknown,
yet which all have to travel alone.

I yet recall another guy’s funeral.
he asked the pastor’ or what,
what to do after the burial was history
and twas time to be back home.
the guy advised
do what he would have done,
at this hour, had he been alive
and you dead.

Have champagne
let his soul dance amidst all present.
he decided.

Another guy in a similar situation,
buried his better half
and said
good riddance,
let’s celebrate, ere 'tis too late
for my burials tomorrow
the doc has said.

now I can live some more time leisurely,
as the strap,
dog strap is off me.


author comment
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