Best Hurst Poems
With these twelve words...
art has no restrains
there is nothing that can chain it down
no fabric that can not be broken from.
*FoRm?
>that de...pe...nd...s.
Brother,you were a human torch
in a melanchonic orbit
of undefined wars
Now you are a pentagram star
mystical and magical
Pouring light and love
from a happier place
from behind heaven doors
Not so distant though worlds afar.
Through each verse and every stanza
you are.
Like Tolkien,your middle earth
was always the unknown,
Your soul has found its home.
A sculptor of word
A weaved tapestry of artistry
A collage of emotions,a performer
A treasure of memories
Our souperstar.
An archaic poet,a self-professed geek
A rhymer you are
playing on our heart strings
with a honey toned acoustic guitar.
Must ve'been an optical illusion
I saw you getting near
I 'm sure I've heard your laughter
sweet echoing my ear;
But I know it cannot be ,
Through faith We face reality.
Our God himself descended
To his word We adhere
He held you a bit closer
and wiped away each tear,
He raised you to his land
with a loving hand,
We'll miss you dear friend,
But We understand...
Till we meet again
Alive in our hearts you stand.
Till then,Protect Us dear Chan.
.
A Tribute
for you Chan Hurst
The Archaic Poet .
Fly with the Angels.
Ethel Hurst
1889 – 1918
I saw the town rise up
Like a single blade of grass after a spring rain.
I played a multitude of hop-scotch games
With my best friend Hannah on Penn Street.
And sipped a hundred ice cream sodas in the Mercantile at sunset.
My mother took me to Jacob’s Grocery every Monday
And it was I who picked the plump oranges
From the big rickety crate.
On Saturdays we worked the fields at Strong’s Ranch,
Harvesting the pampas in the walnut fields.
And on Halloween I was the girl in the moon-face costume for five straight years.
When Christmas brought its luminous lights to the town,
Mother dressed me in red with a bell on my bonnet.
And father sang the carols with a guitar and a tambourine.
I graduated from the big high school in 1907
And in celebration,
Rode my bicycle to Bassett
Still in my starched graduation petticoats.
Jesse Forbes,
He being five years younger than I,
Was the love of my brief stay on this earth.
But when he ventured to steal a kiss that day in Black Canyon,
I used my calloused hand to convey my stern disagreement.
But what wild regrets I’ve entertained since Jesse drowned that day.
In the wild currents by Pio Pico’s crumbling Adobe,
His body bobbing like a sea bird
In the punishing plume of that old deep river.
Beyond the muddy banks and the wild flowers,
Jesse Forbes left this life with a surprised frozen grin.
Why Jesse? Why?
You never knew the truth, my love.
You never really understood what I meant
When I said nothing.
I said No to you when I said nothing that day in Black Canyon,
But I really meant Yes.
The influenza incinerated my heart and soul
With a 106 temperature in the winter of 1918.
Twenty nine years I dare say
Is nothing in terms of eternal life!
I had so much more to do!
I had so much more to dream about!
I walked and talked on the streets of my town,
And on the funeral-dark avenues of my innocent days.
And I planned and I schemed
And all for nothing!.
Indeed, I felt the pulse of fleeting time
And the never-ending,
Ever-turning circle of endless days.
But now I rest here in Clark Cemetery… a virgin corpse
Flirting shamelessly with the bow-tie worms,
Still wild with regrets.
And forever haunted in reverse
By the same recurring memory
Of Jesse Forbes holding a rose.
Under the old oak tree in Black Canyon..
I hand you my torch, while I play the guitar
Tolkien am I, in my euphoric voice
Artistry, artistic, dramatic and poetic are my strings
My musical notes, will touch the sky and alive shall be the clouds
I will give many stars away, starting with brother, sister and you
Listen, accept and catch thus tasteful, and stylish write
Rhymer, rhymester and rime are the notes in my poem
Geek and weirdo specialist, are my secret lovers
Star Wars and The Wizard of Oz, control my dreams
My dreams, start off with a pentagram, in the middle of the ocean
Optical are the waves, visible is the mist and visual are the bubbles
Pop each bubble, time to rewind
My dreams, start off with a pentagram, in the middle of the ocean
Star Wars and The Wizard of Oz, control my dreams
Geek and weirdo specialist, are my secret lovers
Rhymer, rhymester and rime are the notes in my poem
Listen, accept and catch thus tasteful, and stylish write
I will give many stars away, starting with a brother, sister or you
My musical notes, will touch the sky and alive shall be the clouds
Artistry, artistic, dramatic and poetic are my strings
Tolkien am I, in my euphoric voice
I hand you my torch, while I play the guitar
A beautiful girl is what you are.
You have your demons, but so full of love
We have yet to meet, but that does not bar
Our friendship because when push becomes shove
I trust I will be able to rely on you,
And hope you feel the same for me
Because my feelings for you are true.
I’m writing so you will see
Although I cannot paint your beautiful face,
Or the golden locks showering your shoulders,
In my heart you have a very special place,
For in fact, you are my heart’s holder.
I’m excited for the day we meet
Because I know it will be a splendid treat