The Lover/ The Fighter

To be a lover; a gentleman
Like one in a Fitzgerald tragedy
Chasing amor ideal
Striving to master his domestic domain
To live the good life; to eat, drink, and be merry
Three piece suits and a classical music score
Filling his mind with the best of literature

To be a fighter; an adventurer
Like one in a Hemingway tale
Drunk on spirits and constant action
No time to waste sitting, thinking
Searching for the next grand chapter to his story
To dare, and attempt the daring
To feel the rush of adrenaline once more

Two masculine polarities, each with its own merits
With qualities worth aspiring to
But somewhere in the middle, I believe
Is where life’s magic lies


Artwork by my friend, Tosha Michelle, and used by permisson.


Her pen as her voice

With fragile confidence she wrote

Her words chosen carefully, powerfully

She amazed us with that voice

And amazes us still

How we felt what she felt

Happiness, despair, pain, love

The entire human experience

packed into such a short life

She wanted to be loved and understood

And we fortunate ones, who loved and understood her


Oh yes, we remember and love

And she wanted to live on in her words

She does, through we who love her

Who were blessed by her love

And tell her story

To kindred spirits who would appreciate

A young woman, wise beyond her years

Who turned pain into beauty

While she was here

We remember her words

But most of all, her love



(for Anna)