Hugs
surprise hugs that steal the breath away,
catching you off guard,
leaving you in dismay.
a warm hug that makes you feel grown,
like finishing a long trip
and returning to a holiday home.
family hugs that are hard to bear,
hard to get away from
it’s like you’re caught in a snare.
charitable hugs that make you feel less alone,
the realization of your sadness
cuts to the bone.
an extended hug,
reminding you of the yesterdays,
of the minutes, the moments, the years
all that has led to you two parting ways.
hugs consoling human suffering,
and you don’t care who sees your tears.
you don’t care about people hovering.
hugs that make you feel sexually alive;
they embarrass you; no one has held you like that in so long
that it’s hard not to cry.
routine hugs that come as second-nature
unlike vibrant hugs
between chasee and chaser.
hugs of singular awareness,
which are a rarity;
you two hugging so tight…you create your own
singularity.
-Robert Storm
Bruce Hornsby/Mandolin Rain
One Immortal Day
come sail with me
atop the clouds,
the earth smothering away
just us sailing
one immortal day
we leave port at dawn,
no compass to guide the way.
just us drifting
i’ll show you the first satellite
and where atlantis sat in the bay.
i’ll show you the land of agartha
as we grow old on this day
i’ll nip and nuzzle your hair,
while with my fingers you play,
massaging them like you do,
in that absentminded way.
around the globe we’ll go
forever to drift and forever to play,
in love
one immortal day
-Robert Storm
Today marks the anniversary of the death of my dear friend and poet, Robert Storm. Writing under this pen name, he lived a very private life yet opened up so much of himself as a friend, a fellow writer and a genuine human being. He was my beloved imaginative friend, an avid hiker and rock climber with an infectious laugh, never-ending wit and gentlemanly charm. Simply, he was loved and he is missed.
Much like me, he didn’t conform to social expectations with his writing as no one genre could keep him captive. At the time of his death he was working on his first novel, Fire From Olympus, a hybrid of sorts with elements of horror and Greek mythology. He had a brilliant mind and at the age of 45, was taken too soon. Every year in the month of September I honor his struggle and memory by bringing awareness and donating to a local leukemia society.
A year before he passed away he was able to bring a dream to life by becoming published. His book of poems, Almy, was his first and only release and one that I shall treasure and honor by not letting his voice die. From the two pieces above I’ve selected to share, “Hugs” was a piece he was quite fond of and “One Immortal Day” was a favorite of mine. Thank you for reading and if interested, I’m including a link to his collection. I’m also humbly asking writers within the community to consider donating to a local leukemia or cancer society in his honor or for a family member or friend that you may know stricken with it. Thank you again and may we all be reminded of the importance of living every day to its fullest and finding the courage and perseverance to follow our dreams.
watching the wind catch your ashes
yet feeling your hand in mine
-jenny
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