Two small poems... to 'bookend' The Boon of Memory

I don't know where to start...

nothing is as it seems

I will hold you in my heart...

hope to see you in my dreams...

 

   I wrote these lines twelve years ago to the day... the morning after my son Kyle William O'Toole left this plane and planet. The beginning of the 'new normal' as his mother would often refer to the strange surreal state of bereaved parenthood. Our only child, though she did a fine job of being a 'step parent' to my daughter Willow (no easy task for anyone) in the times that 'reasonable access' saw both my children under the same roof; and continues to be part of the lives of Willow and her two children, son Rayne and daughter Celeste. Try as we may (and we did) our marriage and relationship did not survive. " and so it goes", I suppose. 

 

I kissed my one blood son goodbye

in a failed attempt to revive him

many's the tear has crossed my eye

in my efforts to survive him...

 

   these two little poem do indeed 'bookend' the lyric to 'The Boon of Memory'. I'm amazed at times, the amount of lyric and poetry that I've retained, both on paper and in my head, though I sure do wish I had been better organised (and I'm trying to implement a degree of archival organization in this 'blog' experiment). There are many notebooks and journals in storage, and I guess I'd be wise to 'back up' this whole experiment as well. I've posted these little poems to facebook and gotten a fair bit of response in the last day or two... I'm not sure just how I feel about that whole approach; or if I should be wearing my heart on my sleeve ( a broken one at that) on social media...but... I'm a writer, a singer/songwriter; and hoping to finally get comfortable with performing in public once again.c...comfortable... well, at least 'able'; the 'comfort' factor is yet to be sorted out. I mentioned in a 'FB' post that I had come up with the title 'Agoraphobic Folk' (for a separate page dedicated to music and poetry , archival footage and photos etc.) in part as a self deprecatory 'jibe' at the fellow who was so prone to tears when unearthing emotion... ('perpetual emotion';as the song goes...)... well.. I'm working on that. 

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