Here I offer the best monument to Kevin's memory that I possibly can: the poetry I've written for him.
Waking Dream/Bright Wish
Do you know what it's like
to want to know someone
someone you really don't know
yet feel you know implicitly
feel is a kindred spirit
am I just crazy
another crazed fan
who needs to get a life?
and even if I do
does that mean my yearning
to just sit down over coffee and know you
is absurd?
I won't lie
I have the schoolgirl crush
but it is far outweighed
by the desire to merely know you
tell me your story
I've heard it whispered in your songs
you sing to my soul
yet slip through my fingers
When you met me
did you see me?
or did you see what I felt like
an awkward chubby swooning 26yr old teenager
I couldn't tell you in ten seconds
everything I wanted to tell you
ask you everything I wanted to ask
And if you did get my letter
I know you didn't answer it
because you are busy
busy making a life for yourself
busy making music
but I just wish I knew
wish I knew you got it
whether you liked the poems I sent
if any of my words had meaning
touched you
or were dust in the wind of your existence
You are someone I would truly like as a friend
we even share a taste in some music
at least one author
there are books and songs
that made me think of you
and you've mentioned some things that
I haven't yet explored
but am curious about
you could really bring me up
you've already brought me up
I can't give another person
power over my happiness
I know after hard-learned lessons
that I have to fill the hole in my life
I have to make the whole in my life
But my whole life has been
a constant ailment as well
and it would be nice to think
that you could provide a simple remedy
even temporarily
But I feel that I am a single candle
and you are the sun
shining brightly off that stage
I sense it makes you a bit uncomfortable
all this adulation
you're so self-deprecating about it all
so down-to-earth
but that's what I resonate with
your realness
your ziggy quality
things go wrong for you
you admit it
and it makes you human
a little more accessible
at least to the heart
But beyond that vulnerability
there is a power
a strength
a beauty born of pain
and you sing straight into my soul
you make me laugh
with your lyrical irony
and your on-stage banter
and you make me cry
for the sadness of it all
all that we go through in this life
the loves and losses
and for the fact
that you are the desert
and I am the rain
am I just wasting my time?
will I ever be heard?
or will I just be another
holler in the crowd
another anonymous emanation
of admiration
But it's all okay
because it only twinges so much
because I've never gotten that close
to someone I've admired so much
so still I feel blessed
to have taken your hand
and told you
what a poet you are
and how I was truly blown away
So I really can't complain
I've had my excitement
and now it's back to the
everyday living
the work I have to do
the reason I'm here
to find meaning and fulfillment
in this gift that's called my life
And if nothing else
you've shown me a model
of who I'd like to know
in this world
the type of person
I'd like to grow close to
So I thank you
for your many gifts
and for inspiring me to
write poetry again
Encounters With The Muse
His music is aural ecstasy, sonic soul food
His voice, a wild animal, gorgeous and intense,
alternately purring and growling
And his words--he’s just so damn clever with words…
He’s got words wrapped around his little finger; he bats them around like a cat with a canary, he tickles them under the chin
He sculpts words like Michelangelo, strokes them like Monet
He takes words by the hand and waltzes the Blue Danube;
he sweeps them off their feet
He gambles with words, bluffs, and makes words blow the pot
He is seductive with his words, caressing them lovingly; his words are an ache
He is a master artisan, a sorcerer, a shaman of words
He speaks directly from the heart, he sings straight into the soul
And when the show begins, I listen…
Independence Day
It was the final fragmentation
of a star gone supernova
before it truly had a chance
to shine its brightest
though you shined quite brightly
upon those of us who loved you
and I wished upon you more than once
wished for things
that came to pass
and some that never did
wished that
we'd grow closer
and eventually be friends
more than just the casual
albeit mutually appreciative
acquaintances that we were
fan and flame
but then that flame was doused
by the milk of your humankind-ness
in your search for something more
something to eclipse the pain
for most of us, le petit mort
a temporary transcendence
it was, for you, le grand mort
a permanent emancipation
I just hope that, since you had to go
you burned out, as befits a star
and didn’t just fade away
like a firework that fizzled
I just hope you were the grand finale
and went out with a Big Bang
exploding with colorful light & sound
leaving smoke trails in your wake
the way you always lived your life
worse than wondering is knowing
worse than wondering what might have been
is knowing what could have been
had fate not intervened
tragically aiming one bony finger
in the direction of hope
and banishing it in an instant
I feel a white-hot rage
at what I cannot control
what was taken from me
before it was given
an ice cream slapped away
after only one lick
a beloved balloon
lost to the sky
I feel small and sad
the wailing begins
cloud
ghost of yesterday poetry
pierce open belly
remember peace angel
the naked perfume of life
perhaps cold smoke
I am always miss ing you
haunt wild ocean
vast breath
of warm eternity
those thing s never die
every beat would surround
the only embrace in time
magic fever blaze
in deep dark dazzle there
how brilliant & delicious
that caramel voice
it almost heal s
& he live s
All poems Copyright © 1998 Ann McMillan