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Mr. Wolf...

There is a howl in the wind
it touches on my ear
I listen oh so closely
It is Brother Wolf, I hear

He speaks of love and life
things he's been and done
The battles that he's fought
the ones he's lost and won

I've followed in his tracks
across the snowy plain
I was glad for his company
on the days of rain

We had many things in common
our love for things of old
Steel autos, dogs and people
thoughts considered bold

The way he saw the world
the scenes he drew upon the page
He had a vision of man's honor
he saw the actors on the stage

He spoke in poetic language
he felt the pain of living
But he celebrated life
and the things that it was giving

Inside his rooms, looking out
nature called his name
The seasons wore their best attire
when to his house they came

I will miss the friendly greetings
A mental hug to him
I hope your journey's great
and your cup's filled to the brim.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
Just couldn't resist giving tribute to someone who is leaving a big hole in the fabric of Neo. Rest by the hearth brother.
Editing stage: 


I just got a message. Is this true? When did it happen? Why did I not know?

He is my brother and the the greatest poet on Neopoet. What the fuck is going on on? Why wasn't I told?

I am torn and grieving and angry and lost and don't know what to do. Where is he?

Someone please tell me.

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

by surprise too jess. It was announced via a blog post. We'll likely not see his like again

Thank you, thank you, thank you, I just love the flow of your poem. Your settings in nature put me right there and I feel like I am living this poem. I am just a newby to this site and so I am not aware of who you speaking of but whoever it might be he has been justly honoured by your peice. Thankyou again!

Esker was the greatest living poet I have read in my life. His work combined a haunting surrealism with gritty harsh realities and a sense of memory that spoke to our sense of ourselves. He was not always easy to read, some felt they didn't understand his work and yet came away with something new in themselves they had not known before.

I have never felt such grief and loss for a man I never met.

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

Esker has been my friend for over 10yrs. He was such an inspiration to me when I first journeyed into free verse.

Beautiful tribute to a absolutely genius poet Gee.

Love and higgliest bugs J xxx

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.


("Always and Forever") - (Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein)

were ever spoken
. Thank you being that kind of friend. ~ Gee.

Come to chat every Thursday - 3:30 to 4:30 pm. EST.
With: c Lynn Brooks and Geezer

author comment

Over the loss of Esker. Through poetry and many conversations, I will miss his wisdom, his depth and words.

Keep Writing,

"Quoth said the Raven, NEVERMORE"

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