Per Ohlin
17 January 1969 - 8 April 1991
Death by a self-inflicted gunshot wound
Aprils ago a
Broken spirit
Chose
Death
Empathy
Found me
Grieving
His passing
Impotently
Just thinking
Kind thoughts and holding
Love in my heart
Made
No difference
Protecting a soul
Quite so
Raw and
Sad was
Terribly
Unlikely
Vain regretting
While wishing that
Xolotl would guide
You to the spirit world by a gentle
Zephyr
~Cie~
Notes:
Seldom have I encountered a more troubled soul than Per Ohlin. As my lovely friend, the late Walt Cessna would have said, he was fukt 2 start wit.
(This was the title of Walt's autobiography. He said that I inspired him to actually sit down and write it. I have always treasured this knowledge. Walt died from complications of AIDS.)
I sometimes become overwhelmed and try to bury my empathic nature. It doesn't stay buried for long. Maybe a minute, maybe an hour, rarely more than a day, and then, as Per once wrote, up from the tomb it comes. I can't ignore the soul calls for long.
I wish I had known about the phenomenon of soul calls when I was younger. It could have saved me a lot of grief, but it's too late now. Anyone who is of a metaphysical mind is welcome to read about this issue here. For anyone who is not of a metaphysical mind, do us both a favor and don't bother. This isn't the high school debate team, I'm tired, and I have no desire to bend anyone to my own particular set of beliefs.
I am utilizing the Poems in April prompts again, but I am not joining up with the Linky in order to prevent another barney from brewing. Instead, I will comment on a few poems from people who have been kind and supportive along the way. Bit of a shame as I was getting a kick out of having so many visitors, but I find confrontation stressful, so best to keep that gate shut, I think.
