This is a short story-poem in memory of a very cool person who was so laid back, as to cause no ripples or stir any dust—Errol's life was taken by a man to whom Errol was his only known friend. Here, I have written a mere trinket of the mesmerizing tapestry that coincides either of our lives, yet I expel my spirit for someone whom anyone could have called ... a friend.

My vision
(I see Errol and me on a beach taking it easy, but I raise my eyes only to observe a threatening wave coming in; I calmly say, "Errol, that's a pretty big wave coming at us"; Errol calmly looks up to observe the raging swell then looks at me before returning to his thoughts and says, "Yep ... sure is." Quietly, he looks back down and slowly—not afraid—not going to leave me alone, even though, we could likely die there.)





"Errol"




In vision
all appears concrete,
palpable, and retrievable

Love is warm, cooling, and good—it swarms things that are virulent—
Equitable ... "A flock bathes and splatters—the love in water"

My friend Errol's eyes ...
sail about them, as they splash and
roll on earth in perpetual daylight—
laughs sound of child voices—they seemed even together ...

... never distracted in the rant and clutter, Errol tranquilly moseys on—

A floundering child who was given infected depths wrought with hatreds rises before Errol like the threatening wave—

Errol ... got closer—
near to eye tyranny
... willing to friend a ghoul—a scarred one—
one who covets the declinations of his own heart—his
mental stratum—who has dorms to store his
forging evil ...

This did not fit my vision ... this was ...
a fiendish, veiled dirk of hollow ...

Taking this wave, Errol sails far
ever now ... .





Written by, Darkest Angel
Written November 6, 2011
Added preface December 6, 2011
I dedicate this writing to the memory of Errol King