"Some people bring out the worst in you, others bring out the best, and then there are those remarkably rare, addictive ones who just bring out the most. Of everything. They make you feel so alive that you’d follow them straight into hell, just to keep getting your fix."
We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, “O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless… of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?” Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?
Rest in Peace, Robin Williams. You will not be forgotten.
“As promised… I just walked into a local pub (PUB 25, Newtown, CT) and asked to speak with the Owner/Manager. I asked if I could leave a cold one on the bar for Michael all day . I showed him the “Reserved” sign I made and explained I wanted to leave him sufficient funds to buy a random person a Guinness every hour today, and that when the surprised patron asks him “Who is this from?” he should reply: “It’s from LT Michael P. Murphy.” and point to the reserved sign. The Owner/Manager was so in tune with this small gesture, he refused my money, introduced me to two men working in the PUB who just returned home from Afghanistan and Iraq with the ASSURANCE that my request on Michael’s behalf would be honored.”