"markie" poems
I'll never forget the look on your face.
I'll never forget that phone call at 7pm.
You nudged my arm and by the look in your eyes I could tell something was wrong.
"Uncle Markie is dead."
Four words that should never be in the same sentence.
The first thing you say to me is, "how do we tell her?"
My eyes filled with tears and they wouldn't stop falling.
This was the first time that my father;
The man who has always has the answer,
The one with the key to fix everything,
Didn't know what to do.
I didn't know what to do.
How can you tell your mother that her brother, her best friend is dead?
I'll never forget how she tried to run away.
She kicked and screamed and cried.
There was nothing I could do to fix it.
She kept saying, "it's not true, it's not true, how did it happen?"
My dad and I looked at each other
How do you tell someone that their brother took his own life,
Because he couldn't bare living life any longer?
I had to be the one to tell you,
I wish I could take it back.
Because seeing your mother break before your very eyes does something to you.
My uncle took a piece of me with him.
I'm still hoping for the day when I can be whole again.
But I don't think that will ever happen.
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 3:07 PM UTC
Somewhere between
Hunter S. Thompson and
Charlie Mackenzie,
I find myself to be
something
it throws me loops.
Somewhere between
Clark Gable and
Crispin Glover,
I am stuck in
a whirlwind
of perspective.
Somewhere between
Justin Timberlake and
Biz Markie,
I sit silently
wondering how
I got here.
Somewhere between
The Waterloo Bridge and
Westminster Abbey,
an American boy
misplaced
his mind.
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
A second endeavor, an experiment I was not willing to finish,
But the quickness to change, my life as a witness.
Afraid to share my voice, nobody to press burden
As others emphasize the choice not to close my red curtains.
The performance continues with each enduring breath
Taking a look in hindsight, good memories that I've left
With those positive notions, all chuckles & taunts
Nor to ignore my gifts, too far to be lost.
Still a preference for me to move. My hand, show the cards I've got.
TO keep the steam from surging, I write these words which I sought
to walk through the wardrobe of my reflections.
A failure I am happy to rest in~
Markie Waters
Nov 20, 2020
Nov 20, 2020 at 11:28 PM UTC
Losing people we love is tough
It happens eventually
that's true
I wish I could have had one more day
To tell you how much you mean to me how great you are &
enjoy another great conversation
Hear you laugh see your smile
I miss you Uncle Markie
Your friendship was so genuine
You lifted my spirits
You were so funny
So now I just sit and talk to you
and send my love to the sky
Send my love on a cloud to you
"Miss you ..
you woo woo **** tow truck driver" ..lol ..made you smile ..I hear you laughing ..
© Jennifer L DeLong 🦏💗 4/2023
Apr 25, 2023
Apr 25, 2023 at 5:05 AM UTC
Into the cursory environment, gripping to memories
Of all ones you see. Is it over yet?
As you gaze back seeing tree roots distancing, you stay berating
to the mirror. Fiddle then pacing, stepping not to the future awaiting.
Omitting the transpiring minutes, sitting
dabble dally, idling the glad, even treading reflecting water. Why?
Just one hint to pave the path into circles.
Depths each curve, that pang thoughts that hurt a lil.
Lengths racing treads, only finding your miss-steps.
Befallen to shoulds, the cans consummating the cants.
Gathered theatre, with quips and ribbing rants.
Recognized concessions to your stance;
Ten toes down in the Stage...Cognizant
~Markie Waters~
Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 1:57 PM UTC