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Pawpaw
Im smoking Pall Mall's like he did
I feel the wind brush my ear
I sit here in perfect silence wondering how I got here
How it came to this
I loved him, I loved him like I love the earth
He was not just "paw paw"
He was everything.
He was the moon, the stars, the sky
He was Christmas morning
A long kiss with your lover
But he was also a kiss goodbye
I've read both your
poems. You are at that stage where you can evolve as an artist or not.I hope you decide to continue. Your work so far is thought provoking.
Your work seems to be right there at million nerve-endings, somewhere between where the bleeding stops and the scabs begin. It is a place sore and raw a painful place. In this era of lurid precision and constant mediocre, I feel your words are on the edge. Where all of our existence is vulnerable to some kind of blind intellectual temptation like a swarm of dark instincts. Remember the past is prologue. The future will go where ever it leads us and soon it will be prologue too.
Keep writing it doesn’t stop the pain it is just better than total destruction.
Peace
Dylan
"One of the best results of life, is the torment of love"
Dylan Eliot