Lit.Org - a community for readers and writers Advanced Search

Average Rating

(0 votes)

You must login to vote

I am not to write about
extinguished stars,
not again.
Not about a dead poet,
a real dead poet,
not yet.
Not about a dead singer,
nor a dead artist
and a real lover and inventor of arts,
heck no.
I am not to write about extinguished stars.

Instead, I am to write about stars
that dance for me dazzlingly
and One to even shine in Her brightest
and become immortal
as the constellation of St. Francis of Assisi,
Da Vinci,
Maxl Planck,
I am not to write about extinguished stars.

I am to write about love that knows,
that finds,
that looks in the windows,
and in between some loves
that got lost but found,
like Her in our hearts
and our home, this valley.
I am to write about love
according to her definition from now on,
and in between those that are of my own,
those that learned from her,
but I am not to write about extinguished stars.

I am not to write about extinguished stars.

I am not to write about extinguished stars.

*dedicated to Claire Robinson

crystal face I kiss
tongue tastes like sweet cold rain
I fall into pond

Related Items


The following comments are for "*I Am Not To Write"

Voice, in theatre...
..of minds...

Peter- Heartfelt words.

Robert William

( Posted by: Bobby7L [Member] On: November 5, 2005 )

Claire's star
Will shine on forever...I loved this ...great tribute to our beloved Claire...Kacee

( Posted by: Nitz Kitty [Member] On: November 5, 2005 )

Of Urge and Should
Peter ~ I was going to write something about the way you've structured this poem and the mechanics of contradiction in it, but then realized that may not be the most appropriate comment I could leave here. What I really want to say is that this is beautiful and moving. Wonderful poem, Peter.

( Posted by: hazelfaern [Member] On: November 5, 2005 )

beautiful Peter.

To Claire.

( Posted by: Philo [Member] On: November 5, 2005 )

Thanks for leaving your comments here. We all know that Claire was and still is our Superstar! I am going to miss her. I was hoping she could come back at least once more to start a new thread. Now, we can only but be inspired by everything she did for us here. I celebrate that I ever met here at all.

( Posted by: peterpaulino [Member] On: November 6, 2005 )


*I am not to write about extinguished stars.*


Your poetry is steeped in loss together with self afirmations that this is not so. This is a great tribute to Claire as it shows how much she touched your soul.

Instead, I am to write about stars
that dance for me dazzlingly
and One to even shine in Her brightest
and become immortal

We all are 'immortal' and possibly closer in death than we could be in life...

I am going to take the liberty of posting a letter found by Cannon Hollands wife to her after he had died. I think this puts it into perspective:

Death is nothing at all. It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.

One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!'
So the face speaks. Surely while we speak there is a smile flitting over it; a smile as of gentle fun at the trick played us by seeming death...'

Henry Scott Holland (1847-1918)
Canon of St. Paul's Cathedral

( Posted by: ivordavies [Member] On: November 6, 2005 )

Beautiful, Peter
A very deep work, Peter... I think it's your best.

( Posted by: shefallssoftly [Member] On: November 6, 2005 )

Add Your Comment

You Must be a member to post comments and ratings. If you are NOT already a member, signup now it only takes a few seconds!

All Fields are required

Commenting Guidelines:
  • All comments must be about the writing. Non-related comments will be deleted.
  • Flaming, derogatory or messages attacking other members well be deleted.
  • Adult/Sexual comments or messages will be deleted.
  • All subjects MUST be PG. No cursing in subjects.
  • All comments must follow the sites posting guidelines.
The purpose of commenting on Lit.Org is to help writers improve their writing. Please post constructive feedback to help the author improve their work.