Inspired by Eliot Kirshner's https://substack.com/home/post/p-145782591 when he talked about the joy that Willie Mays brought. That being said, this following poem is not sweet but harsh.
I risk my heart each time I read what you write. -(I do with Paul and Sherman, also - but since I see you through the eyes of an older sister, you can’t imagine how hard this strikes me).
What you’ve done here is reach into the souls who’ve been in dark places without doors, letting them know there is, in fact, a door to open, but also into those of us who love them and teach us that the pain of love never stops the fear for every one of you.
That pretty much sums it up. I don't know why that poem arrived other than life is good, solid, stable, loving and I so enjoy working with Will and he's doing well and my other son Brad and his wife. Who the hell knows but if it can offer someone a hand up then I'm okay with the very temporary sadness that writing it brings. There's really nothing I can do to stop these things and sometimes, when they are quite sad, I wish I could. As an antidote I wrote 3 goofy poems about being lazy while trying to pretend I'm industrious, another close look at a chipmunk and one about a guy who is very fond of cork.
Ps. The book is coming along, fully, perfectly edited, now I'm working on setting up the sale for the hardcover, the paperback and the Ebook version.
This makes me so glad. I love thinking of you and Laurie being with those beautiful young men, and Brads wife must be wonderful for you to love her as you do.
Excited to see the book!! Have you a designer for the hardback? I’m familiar with what that entails somewhat - are you choosing a simple cloth cover? I was looking at my early editions (of Elliot) at how quietly presented they were, and the rare paper covers I’ve been lucky to find of other books, so am just imagining the process (in a very non-participatory way).
I've got that hardcover all nicely designed with some cool quotes on the back cover. I was reassured that Keats only published 200 copies so quantity is not so important. I am shooting for longevity.
Well done on the book, Wes. I will definitely be buying. This piece is so good, I had to read it a few times as I missed bits because the previous lines hit me so hard.
Thank you for sharing such a beautiful poem.
The entire post was a riveting read. I’ve had those lows. And like you, carried on. And life revealed to me, eventually , why I was where I was in its own time. Family is all. Love to you and yours from me and mine. 💚
I've never been able to hold on to joy for long. Everything passes, but I have needed a lot of help to climb out of depression. I so relate to all this. Those dark nights of the soul.
That joy is tricky, isn't she? I always think of her a feminine. I write these things so I can chronicle a passage out of it, even though I know I'll never be free of it. I avoid all negative people, do a lot of outdoor time, avoid completely any viewing time of movies with depression, alcoholism, addiction, drug stuff because they just set me off down a not useful path. "Those dark nights of the soul", that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.
Indeed. It's gotten easier as I've gotten older. When I was young, if I was sad I'd watch a sad movie, listen to sad songs. Decades in I have more experience of depression passing and I'm more skilled at making choices that lead toward light, getting outside, moving, spending time with people... still there are those moments of dread.
Yeah they can catch you and hold on with a little bit of a siren song, luring us down a path. If I sense any kind of self pity creeping in there I do what you do, get outside, get moving. And yet I still dread its return. Both my sons suffer from it to varying degrees. My wife fortunately doesn't have any form of it, thank God.
I risk my heart each time I read what you write. -(I do with Paul and Sherman, also - but since I see you through the eyes of an older sister, you can’t imagine how hard this strikes me).
What you’ve done here is reach into the souls who’ve been in dark places without doors, letting them know there is, in fact, a door to open, but also into those of us who love them and teach us that the pain of love never stops the fear for every one of you.
That pretty much sums it up. I don't know why that poem arrived other than life is good, solid, stable, loving and I so enjoy working with Will and he's doing well and my other son Brad and his wife. Who the hell knows but if it can offer someone a hand up then I'm okay with the very temporary sadness that writing it brings. There's really nothing I can do to stop these things and sometimes, when they are quite sad, I wish I could. As an antidote I wrote 3 goofy poems about being lazy while trying to pretend I'm industrious, another close look at a chipmunk and one about a guy who is very fond of cork.
Ps. The book is coming along, fully, perfectly edited, now I'm working on setting up the sale for the hardcover, the paperback and the Ebook version.
This makes me so glad. I love thinking of you and Laurie being with those beautiful young men, and Brads wife must be wonderful for you to love her as you do.
Excited to see the book!! Have you a designer for the hardback? I’m familiar with what that entails somewhat - are you choosing a simple cloth cover? I was looking at my early editions (of Elliot) at how quietly presented they were, and the rare paper covers I’ve been lucky to find of other books, so am just imagining the process (in a very non-participatory way).
I've got that hardcover all nicely designed with some cool quotes on the back cover. I was reassured that Keats only published 200 copies so quantity is not so important. I am shooting for longevity.
However many copies it will be beautiful without any doubt!
Well done on the book, Wes. I will definitely be buying. This piece is so good, I had to read it a few times as I missed bits because the previous lines hit me so hard.
Thank you for sharing such a beautiful poem.
The entire post was a riveting read. I’ve had those lows. And like you, carried on. And life revealed to me, eventually , why I was where I was in its own time. Family is all. Love to you and yours from me and mine. 💚
The pleasure was mine, Wes.
Thanks again.
Thank you very much Kevin, all that means a lot to me.
Oh, my heart!
I have made a living out of lying to myself. Life is always gaining ground.
Stan, would that be marketing or advertising?
You got me! It’s been over forty years selling myself as a normal human being and not the vegetable the doctors thought I would be.
You showed them, clearly and I'm glad you bested the vegetable thing, that's for sure.
You’re in good company Stanley, exceptional company.
Superb
thanks David
I've never been able to hold on to joy for long. Everything passes, but I have needed a lot of help to climb out of depression. I so relate to all this. Those dark nights of the soul.
That joy is tricky, isn't she? I always think of her a feminine. I write these things so I can chronicle a passage out of it, even though I know I'll never be free of it. I avoid all negative people, do a lot of outdoor time, avoid completely any viewing time of movies with depression, alcoholism, addiction, drug stuff because they just set me off down a not useful path. "Those dark nights of the soul", that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.
Indeed. It's gotten easier as I've gotten older. When I was young, if I was sad I'd watch a sad movie, listen to sad songs. Decades in I have more experience of depression passing and I'm more skilled at making choices that lead toward light, getting outside, moving, spending time with people... still there are those moments of dread.
Yeah they can catch you and hold on with a little bit of a siren song, luring us down a path. If I sense any kind of self pity creeping in there I do what you do, get outside, get moving. And yet I still dread its return. Both my sons suffer from it to varying degrees. My wife fortunately doesn't have any form of it, thank God.
These days, to create is to hope. To create is to live. Keep it coming, Weston.
Ooh, I like that. Thanks Ann
Well put. I like those lines.
I had to sit for a bit and breath. That was deeply touching (as your poems often are). Life eh?!
Thank you, Wes.
Yeah life...thanks Jonathan. As an antidote and not really consciously done, I wrote 3 very goofy poems later that day. Here's one.
The Chipmunk
How aware is the chipmunk
of his extreme charm?
That his tiny tail
flips when he chirps?
When he does his morning stretches
is there anything in the universe
more beguiling?
That momentary languor
in a day so otherwise
given to industry means
that even that small ball of muscle
needs to stretch,
fuss with his tail and
deal a blurred scratch
to his shoulders,
before the great endeavors begin.
Later in the day I saw him reach,
with his entire body elongated
to a lengthy 6”
on tiptoe to reach a berry.
That early morning workout
certainly paid off.
Spilling a bag of birdseed
brought him out to survey the scene
as I stood stock still.
He quickly and effortlessly
filled his pouches to bursting
and paused, on his way back to his burrow,
to give me a full frontal view
of his comically distended face.
I had not seen him practicing for this
so it’s fair to say I know
only a little bit about him
but what I do know
is quite wonderful.
You see! The balance restored:) loved it, especially the last 4 lines which I myself might have written of you:
“so it’s fair to say I know
only a little bit about him
but what I do know
is quite wonderful.”
Wonderful. Thanks
I always thought of joy as the canary in the mine and when she stopped singing it was time to "take heed".