(no subject)

[itismeangied]

 

I wish I had known you

But you died last week
It sends an ache that shakes the root

We might have been at the same party in Santa Fe

Adobe-covered coops and wide tiled spaces

That housed wild-hearted waifs 

And the ones who stayed

They all create art

From insincere to staggering

And they have all touched each other 

Somewhere

Dust-coated beneficiaries and spangers who never had trust

Turquoise fingers pointing 

To the forest fire 

That lilts upon

The landscape

Behind The Cross of the Martyrs

Weed and sage smoke dance with the dead trees

But you seemed to distinguish yourself

Recreating your brain

And the places it took you

And made them real, touchable, walkable

You spared us the terrifying parts

You handed us beauty and we would have held pain, too

Voices, faces, bad thoughts, whatever you kept to yourself

Your mind’s colors decantered in double rainbows
And the dark places painted over

Pet Sounds, visions, dreams awake

You were hurting.

Many times broken

And lined with metal
Precious.

Gilded until you were made of gold

And said farewell.

Comments

[drippedonpaper]

I know you almost certainly had someone else in mind, but this made me think of Robin Williams. Man, I loved his work. I feel at least some of his creativity must have sprung from pain. I wish I had known him.

I also really liked your line about how "They have all touched each other / somewhere."

I think we do..some people we love, we hug, some people we hate or avoid. But often, in any given group or workplace, we all touch each other somewhere.

Such a beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing this!

[itismeangied]

Thank you! This person had the same charm and magnetism as Robin Williams, for sure.