Mark Edward Peters

markpetersMay 25, 1961 – August 13, 1993. In Loving Memory Marc Peters was my best friend. He died from AIDS. Mark Peters had 11 years clean when he died. He wanted to be an oldtimer with 60 years clean.

He loved Santos’s from Harlem quote, who also died from AIDS – that only punks go back out. Marc was English and Czechoslovakian. His father commited suicide when he was six years old and that had a great impact on his life.

June 15th 1985. Mark Edward Peters wrote in my Journal…
The sun’s clean light streams
we live in a penthouse
close to the sky’s shinny surfaces
we converse with angels
trade thoughts and miracles
with the needy,
fools and well-hewn channels
for the greater power
this god
O his face, it’s presence
freed from those damned bonds
O the bliss
the bliss of the old ending,
the bliss of awakening
the movements
of whales fins,
shells soft whispers
the beat of babies joined
the secrets off our deepest selves
I in you, and you in I
such mysteries,
no addict need ever die
believe me.
this is the promise …

On 9/12/06, Andrew Fusek Peters wrote: the passing of time

You in me

This mingling of atoms is most strange

And I wonder if it is the same

With all the thoughts that made us what we are.

As you gave a little sigh,

As tears crept slow like kings to Bethlehem,

Did all that lay inside

slowly seep away?

And falling

Into bed of bone

Did you dissolve

And like the stream

Seek out a sympathetic home?

Did that which drove your pen,

Which burst the banks of ink

Across each page

Now wash around my shaking hand

To steady it

With steel

A steel that’s rivetted by pain?

Is this your gift,

That what you were was never lost?

And as I weep for 13 years since we last spoke

This mingling of you in me is strange

And I wonder if it is the same

With all the thoughts that made us what we are.

Andrew Fusek Peters 2006 Hi Chris, 13 years since mark died – I have been in touch with sylvana and didn’t know about the photographs on your site – wow and the poem – have been writing a bunch of new stuff and trying to get the angels book republished. Here are the poems and what I’m sending out to publishers. I’m now 22 years clean – so I guess I’m going for Marks goal of 60 years, one day at a time – my two kids are now 11 and 5 and been married to polly for 15 years…time flies, feeling older – books are going well.

http://www.tallpoet.com/

still hitting meetings and living the best I can – yeah, Lots of love, Andy

On Fri, Aug 15, 2008 at 11:14 AM, Andrew Fusek Peters wrote: 2 days ago – 15 years – really thought about Mark a lot and wrote this..hit me yesterday and cried my eyes out … Stay well Chris, In love and fellowship, andy

FOR TINA, IN MEMORY OF THOSE WE HAVE LOST and On the 15th Anniversary of my brother Mark¹s death :

Those that are taken from us,
Where are the paths that they tread,
Under the heavy-leaved trees,
To the gate lying open ahead?

And where are the crumbs that they left us?
The little white stones on the way?
What markers will help as we stumble,
What comforts of night and day?

For all that we have are echoes
As we lay our ears to the ground,
Trying to hold on to the moment,
And the hint of a flickering sound.

Those that are taken from us,
Now walk with a silent tread
And time is a pair of scissors
That snip at the thinning thread

But I shall take small comfort,
For the gate at the end of the lane
Has a latch that is sure to be lifted
On the day that we meet again.
Andrew Fusek Peters 2008

From: Andrew Fusek Peters verytallpoet@aol.com

Date: Tue, Oct 13, 2009 at 6:50 AM Subject: New poem for mark

Hey Chris, if you want to stick this on the website, Do, All love and fellowship,

These are the journeys we will not take,

The walk where you aren’t by my side,

When mist lies heavy as a lake,

To wait the shining burn of tide.

These are the journeys we will not take

The progress of my daughter’s eye,

The framing of her shots, a lyric ache

You will not yearn to see as time flows by.

These are the journeys we will not take

The phonecall late at night when I’m in doubt

The ringing on and on as my hands shake,

Memories engaged, at last put out.

You will not see my hair gone grey

For time¹s a fading rumble of a quake,

Tectonic are the shifts that cannot stay

These are the journeys we will not take.

Andrew Fusek Peters 2009 October

Kenneth D writes: Apr 5, 2007 4:42 PM subject: Mark Peters, Hello Chris, you don’t know me but I was surfing through your intervention.org page and ran across your Dead Freinds link. I was surprised at some of the members there, particularly Greatful Dave (who was my grandsponser) and Big Lou who I knew from The Warehouse down here in Miami. But the biggest impact was to see Mark Peter’s pix.

I first met Mark when he was down here in 90?-91?. He mentioned that he was from DC and had been involved in World Lit. I met him through Sandy Stoufer, and immediately connected with him. He was one of the gentlest people I’ve met in NA. I remember working with him and Bo Sewell in a NAWOL workshop (the Pink House, Sandy’s). Actually, a couple of workshops.

I remember him coming over for dinner, I made him Sole broiled in lemon and butter, pasta with oil and asparagus and timed everything so it would all be finished cooking together and he showed up 1/2 hour late. So I had to warm it up and I was so frustrated that I went through all this trouble for him and he ruined it. LOL. Had to give my wife a quick education on the transmission of AIDS because she wanted to send the children away if he was over.

I guess the strongest memory I have of Mark is when Sandy called me, saying she hadn’t heard from Mark in a couple of days. I went to his apartment in East Hollywood and found him bedridden. He had been in bed a few days and hadn’t eaten much. I remember getting him into the shower and soaping him up, washing his hair and drying him off.

Then I changed his bedding and made him soup and spoon fed him. I wanted to cry so bad but I thought that would just make him feel worse. Sandy and I arranged for different addicts to visit him in shifts until he felt better. Then a few weeks later, when he felt better he went back to DC. I guess he didn’t want to be sick without all his freinds and loved ones nearby.

Your pix brought back so many memories. You know, I loved Mark like few people I’ve met in NA. I can’t smell a Lemon, Lime or Orange without flashing back to Mark and his citrus oils aroma-therapy. Thanks for bringing back alot of memories for me.

Jan 4, 2008 11:52 AM – Hi my name is Elaine and i have been reading the dead friends web site. I was devastated to see Marc on the site, I used to nanny for Marc and his brother Andrew in the early 70’s when they lived in Swiss Cottage, London.

I have very fond memories of both of the boys, I was a young girl of 17/18 when I went to stay with them, picked them up from school, took Marc to his riding lessons.

I particularly remember bringing them both to stay at my parents house for a week in the north east of England.Marc was about 10 and Andrew would have been about 7.I have thought of them both many times over the years,

I always thought Marc would have been a successful actor or model, he was such a handsome boy, its upsetting to know he died so young, but am pleased to see he is being remembered on your site. I am now a grandmother of two boys and have never forgotten the time i spent with Marc and Andrew. Fond Regards, Elaine.

I first met Marc in 1971 when I was 17 and went to work for a Czechoslovakian actress in London looking after 2 boys Marc aged 10 and his brother Andrew. Marc had the most beautiful big brown eyes and the worst haircut you have ever seen. He had the longest fringe it was a miracle that he could see.

Both boys wanted to look cool so i gave them a haircut in the bathroom, they liked it, I liked it, not sure about their mother though! Marc was very keen on horseriding, i used to take him to his lesson every Saturday, and when I brought them both to my parents house for a holiday,

I took Marc to a local riding school and my best memory of him is watching him ride along the beach in Redcar, NE England, in the rain! I have never forgotten my time with both boys, and wish I had known them longer, I remember those big brown eyes every time I look at my own grandsons.I hope hes giving it some in that great riding school in the sky !!!!

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