I am feeling much sympathy for Anna Nicoles mother...whether they were alienated or not, I know her pain...
I woke up this morning
Feeling sad
But don’t know why
Someone died
I remember then
Her smile, the slurring southern accent
So desperate
Yet so beautiful
Why does that strike me so personally
I didn’t know her
Didn’t even admire her
Who could
But I cared that she died
So useless a death
But aren’t they all
At least the ones where they die young
So much potential gone
So much pain over
I wonder again why I care
And I quit typing and call Deb
it's true though. it is sad. but what can one like us do? she, like Marilyn and Jayne Mansfield made her "choices". and we all do, we all make our choices. but that doesn't make it nice. it's still sad.
You've captured the pain and waste in a few lines. No more needs to be said.
Reviewed by Kathryn Collins (Reader)
Reviewed on February 10, 2007
Dear Sue:
Such a thoughtful poem. I think knowing this pain first hand forever transforms us and we die, ourselves, at seeing it happen again and again. Then we have to accept the devastation all over again. I love that you call "Deb" at the end.
You care, sweet lady, because you are a loving woman, a mother, a daughter, so many things, and divinely human. Anna Nicole lived a tough life, for sure, but in many ways, she threw it all away -- how sad, it's always sad when that happens. You're a good person, Sue, with much love and compassion in your heart.
Well done!
Love,
CJ
Love,
CJ
As our chats in the path give me a little understanding into the thoughts behind this write I can will see how it would affect you so. Your heart and the love you have for a daughter who also strayed far from her mother's side is reflected in your concern of anothers mother.
People's deaths affect us in different ways...kindred spirits, tender hearts, mothers instinct and love, compassionate humans, whatever the reason you're a kind person with a loving heart. Great write my friend!
Blessings,
Joyce B...
Forced to put the schooner Heimdall into dry-dock for repairs and modifications, the crew chooses to holiday in Southern Utah so they can rendezvous with the Professor, a brilliant confidant from Rabat. What he shares at the summit stuns the crew and
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how could a mother not feel this like others have said look at the many before her!!
touching!!!
Such a thoughtful poem. I think knowing this pain first hand forever transforms us and we die, ourselves, at seeing it happen again and again. Then we have to accept the devastation all over again. I love that you call "Deb" at the end.
love,
Kathy
Love Tinka
Well done!
Love,
CJ
Love,
CJ
Fee
Blessings,
Joyce B...