This is for all of us who have fought any type of chronic sadness, loneliness or any of the dastardly states of mind that drain all the beauty from this magical place.
Thanks Jessica. That reminds me of someone hitting into a bottle of something "purely for medicinal purposes." Which I always thought was funny. All of us who battle these things for a long time (50 years in my case) have a habit of steering towards the comedy.
As a mother, a grandmother, an older sister more like, arms around you my friend. You realize I hope this piece is all about strength. And so very beautiful.
Thanks Stan and it's good to hear that. I cut out a lot of stuff in the middle, filled with twirling and spinning etc but had to get rid of it, so at least for you, the movement was still conveyed.
The gripping and poignant substance that fills the outline of the poem aside, a round of applause ought to go to the formatting itself. Substack’s word processor is quite constraining i.e line spacing, margins... So bravo for going to such lengths to format the piece like this
Thanks Markan. The line spacing is due to using the "poetry block" located under the "more" button. The margins is just me centering each line, which is how I like my poems to appear, takes less then 5 minutes.
This is medicinal. There isn't all that much written stuff which has healing qualities, but your poems do -- they bring the beauty back. Lovely.
Thanks Jessica. That reminds me of someone hitting into a bottle of something "purely for medicinal purposes." Which I always thought was funny. All of us who battle these things for a long time (50 years in my case) have a habit of steering towards the comedy.
As a mother, a grandmother, an older sister more like, arms around you my friend. You realize I hope this piece is all about strength. And so very beautiful.
Thank Patris. Keep on keeping on and don't forget the beauty around us.
I take a very deep breath,
just like the one
that must be taken
before a deep dive,
and in so doing I will swell,
well beyond my size
And with this beautiful image in mind, I'll end this hard day softly. Thank you.+
Aw, thank you Ann. To have aided and abetted in ending a hard day softly is a pretty good achievement in my book.
This poem is full of movement and grace!
Thanks Stan and it's good to hear that. I cut out a lot of stuff in the middle, filled with twirling and spinning etc but had to get rid of it, so at least for you, the movement was still conveyed.
Editing is always a necessary bitch, lol.
Yeah, like, "There are omelettes and there are omelettes with eggshells. That's editing."
This is beautiful!
Thanks Brian. The thoughtful comments never get old.
Very nice, Weston. I'll say it again. Very nice. Every word in its place.
thank you ever so much.
"Although my arms are empty
my heart is less so
and so, for this day
at least, loneliness
has ceded the floor." ❤️🩹
I've done that same dance more times than I care to count, Wes, but you've really got the steps down in this one! Even I feel better!
Well, that may be from all the practice. I'm soon to be 65, so from mid teens to now, 50 years of all that.
The gripping and poignant substance that fills the outline of the poem aside, a round of applause ought to go to the formatting itself. Substack’s word processor is quite constraining i.e line spacing, margins... So bravo for going to such lengths to format the piece like this
Thanks Markan. The line spacing is due to using the "poetry block" located under the "more" button. The margins is just me centering each line, which is how I like my poems to appear, takes less then 5 minutes.
This is beautiful - thank you.
Thank you Clare.
Hey, I thought the last one was my favourite, now this ones my favourite!
Beautiful Wes.
Thanks Jonathan.
So poignant. Blessed to be dancing through life with you these past 4 decades! 💞
Thank you Mrs. Parker.
I'm ready to admit it. Me! Hahaha!
My mother’s name was Trisha and she taught each of her five sons to dance.
Beautiful imagery. I think we've all been there.
Thank you Tresha. I agree, I think we’ve all been there, at least all of us who are willing to admit it.