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A few poems written by Chan Hurst, (Just That Archaic Poet) I hope that we can find some comfort in them at this sad time. "A Rational Explanation" What must I do to see this through- Unlock the world I never knew? For all I've seen hath been untrue, As all I've felt hath plagued me, too! I am no more, past Deaths before I've reached the end of Living War- (to see through eyes both blind and closed) A life to touch, but never know... "Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep" Every day, to God I pray For answers to Life's enigmas Patience lays in wait to stay- To cleanse our Social Stigmas We pass the time in our idle Dreams: Like fallen stars in singing streams "A Happy Ending" Remorse and regret, I mustn't forget Remind me that Life is a process of Learning Indeed for I sorrow'd; 'twas always upset As the Truth was met with painful discerning But now my eyes are open-wide, Grew to love what I once despised I am no longer sick inside- I just feel happy to be alive "A Master's Approval" No happier could I ever be, (Or feel a joy's enormity!) Than to know a Soul as Poe- Would say he likes my poetry! "The Poets I Hope to Meet in Heaven" I pray that in my Eternity, I'll meet Shelley, Poe and Emily That we'll all sit down at a table round, And at length discuss our Poetry! And Longfellow, lest we forget Lord Byron, Shakespeare, and beloved Keats! If I prove their favorite Poet, I could accomplish no greater feat! For all my many silly musings, This one I covet above the rest For my Soul's toil- finally proving That the Masters love me best! "Heaven For A Poet" by Kelly Deschler My own piece of heaven, a quiet little nook, With only the finest parchment in a leather book, A feather quill pen and an ocean of ink, My thoughts would never stop to think, Every single line I write would rhyme, My poetry would be beautiful and sublime, I'd be entertained daily, by Dr. Seuss, And, put to bed nightly, by Mother Goose, Lessons from Byron, Shelley, Coleridge and Poe, Teaching me every single thing that they know. My own piece of heaven, will have to wait, Until one day, when I must meet my fate, So, for now I will have to be content, With my own words that may be heaven sent, Inspiration from my idols is all I need, Writing poetry in a notebook from Mead, With this cheap, plastic Bic pen, And a dream to be, just like them. This poem was one of mine that Chan had faved, so I thought it would be appropriate to share this now and dedicate it to him. I will always miss you, BP, my brother in poetry, but I sense that you are smiling down on us now. I know that Chan idolized Edgar Allan Poe. I remember him telling me that someday, he wanted to share a table in heaven with that "good ol' E.A. Poe". So, Chan, if that is what you're doing now, I envy you, my friend! And, you said that you would personally invite me to that little gathering, remember? :)
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