I want to write a poem

Post by **Doreen Peri** » January 28th, 2015, 7:28 pm

sorry, I can be an overly sensitive anxiety-ridden paranoiac depressive... I'm disabled.

Post by **WIREMAN** » January 28th, 2015, 7:29 pm

one thing is a fact u knew him better than anyone in those final years......if i could pick one word to decribe Lrod id say "Gentlman Outlaw"...ugh...that was 2

....love u Doreen!

Post by **Doreen Peri** » January 28th, 2015, 7:55 pm

Yeah, I did know him probably better than anyone those final years... wish I could have been there when he left us... they didn't want me to come. I don't know why. Maybe they didn't think I could handle it and it would be hard on me. But I wanted to be there. Weird thing is, when my mom passed on March this past year, I didn't want to be there... I helped take care of her for so long... I just didn't want to be there.. I couldn't do it. But somehow I wanted to be there for him even if he didn't know I was there. Oh crap, I'm starting to cry... Gotta stop talking about it... Love you, too, Mark!

Post by **judih** » January 28th, 2015, 11:21 pm

inner poem
with the hand of probing the pulse
compassionate investigation

and it works beautifully

Post by **68degrees** » January 28th, 2015, 11:38 pm

"sorry, I can be an overly sensitive anxiety-ridden paranoiac depressive... I'm disabled."

You're not really all these words...you're just human.

68degrees

Post by **whoaisme** » January 28th, 2015, 11:46 pm

"and when the poem comes, death becomes a revision"

hey now that's better than crack!

not that i know anything about crack....drugs...eh..ho..hum..i'm just saying reading your poetry is better than getting high on drugs! keep writing hard m'dear!

Post by **revolutionR** » January 29th, 2015, 1:24 am

I had to watch the one person in my life that was my best friend, my life mate, my wife, die
right in front of me on the bed, I knew she was gone, she had her eyes open, and she was not breathing, I called the paramedics, and they came, and cops came too.They took her to the hospital, I drove there. When I got there, the doctor on call, took me in the room, and they pronounced her dead. They left me alone in the room with her for awhile. All the people in the hospital seemed like robots to me, there is nobody to help you in that moment.Everybody is cold like its just their job. Hospitals are such cold places, the nurses seemed just hard nosed to me. It's all about money. Six months later my mother died in a hospice. I don't know what held me together. I am all alone now. I'm glad I was there when Meryl died, I was there with her, she passed in her sleep, but I was next to her, when it happened. I thought she would out live me. I don't want to die in a hospital. I remember Meryl reading a poem she wrote at an open mic in North Beach and people stood up and clapped for her. I was so proud. Meryl was my best friend, my really only real best friend, she was A Pisces, my poet mentor friend was a Pisces, he died young too, about 55, Meryl was 57. My other main friend who had been my high school buddy, he was a musician, he died at about 55 too. Meryl and I were to ourselves, we were together for 35 years, she was only 22 when I met her. She stuck at my side, I was blessed to have known her, I always think the miracle of Meryl. She could have been a wonderful poet but she let me take on the task, because that is what I was when I met her. When I met Meryl, I was just a wild crazy poet, the night I met her, I felt like I had been hit by a lightning bolt, I did not know then I was going to fall in live with her and spend the rest of her life with her. But that night another poet friend introduced me to her at A Neal Young show in a local club. It was like some part of me knew she was the one, I was drinking a lot of beer but I felt stone sober, very weird, my poet friend asked me if I was all right, I had never felt that way before, like something was happening inside my head, as if the gods were telling me something, and I did not know what it was, but it was hitting me like a hammer. A couple of months later Meryl and I fell in love. And a few months before that, one day it was like I heard a voice inside my head, that was telling me I was going to meet my life mate, It seems like it just happened yesterday. She was such a beautiful soul.

Post by **Doreen Peri** » January 29th, 2015, 2:19 am

craig... Your story literally brought tears of joy and tears of grieving to my eyes. Thank you for sharing Meryl with us. I'm so sorry she's gone. What a beautiful love story. I'm glad to know you were there with her when she passed, as you wanted to be.

After I read your story, I went to Amazon and (finally) put your novel in my shopping cart. I'll be buying it shortly. I wish you could autograph it for me but I don't think that's possible. I'll be honored to own it and very much look forward to reading it.

Thank you! ... and goodnight! (good morning, too)

Post by **Doreen Peri** » January 29th, 2015, 2:21 am

Judih... what a lovely reply.. thank you!

68degrees .... actually, I AM human, you're right about that.. thank you.... but I'm also all those other things, too (part of being human, I guess.. or being THIS human... ME!)

whoaisme .... wow! cool! my words got you high? That's one of the best reviews I've ever read. Much appreciated.

GNIGHT all.. insomnia won't win tonight. I can't let it win. It's killing me.

Post by **dadio** » January 29th, 2015, 8:49 am

How the heck did I miss this excellent poem? Darn good, worth a lot of readings indeed.

Post by **Doreen Peri** » January 30th, 2015, 12:57 pm

Thanks, Terry!

Post by **Doreen Peri** » January 30th, 2015, 12:58 pm

Needs a new title.

Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

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