Billy’s gone.
He passed away just a few hours ago. There are no words for what a tremendous loss this is, and the kind of hole he leaves in our lives and hearts. He’s truly one of a kind, cliché as that might sound. The most incredible, wonderful, amazing man I know.
Billy caught the poetry bug writing love sonnets to my mom. A little more than ten years ago, he put up this forum because he wanted there to be a place where poets like him could learn and grow through honest feedback, without the empty fawning and stuffiness and bullshit that he felt plagued other poetry sites he encountered… thus the Pig Pen was born. I wasn’t much of a poet myself but as his trusty sidekick I assisted Billy as he built this place up brick by virtual brick, and soon many, many wonderful likeminded writers joined him.
He’d been sleeping for days before he passed, but in his last moments of wakefulness, they said he described visions of the other side--- he said his whole life, all that’s happened good or bad, all his mistakes and choices, everything makes sense. He said he has lived through all the pages of his book that was written out for him, and at the end there are blank pages left in the book to be filled.
Let’s leave our messages to Billy in this thread. And keep those pens lifted, poets. There are pages and pages still to fill.
He passed away just a few hours ago. There are no words for what a tremendous loss this is, and the kind of hole he leaves in our lives and hearts. He’s truly one of a kind, cliché as that might sound. The most incredible, wonderful, amazing man I know.
Billy caught the poetry bug writing love sonnets to my mom. A little more than ten years ago, he put up this forum because he wanted there to be a place where poets like him could learn and grow through honest feedback, without the empty fawning and stuffiness and bullshit that he felt plagued other poetry sites he encountered… thus the Pig Pen was born. I wasn’t much of a poet myself but as his trusty sidekick I assisted Billy as he built this place up brick by virtual brick, and soon many, many wonderful likeminded writers joined him.
He’d been sleeping for days before he passed, but in his last moments of wakefulness, they said he described visions of the other side--- he said his whole life, all that’s happened good or bad, all his mistakes and choices, everything makes sense. He said he has lived through all the pages of his book that was written out for him, and at the end there are blank pages left in the book to be filled.
Let’s leave our messages to Billy in this thread. And keep those pens lifted, poets. There are pages and pages still to fill.