It's wonderful that you've kept these poems, written while in the midst of things. I know of writers who destroyed their early work and later wish they'd kept them. The immediacy of those feelings can't really be recaptured with hindsight. Fortunately, you've kept this poetic record of love's journey. Glad you're sharing them here, Deborah.
Your expressive release of emotion via words is touching and heartbreakingly sad, yet beautiful at the same time.
Wow... thank you for sharing this series, Deborah. They have been a joy to read, and I have been moved by them. You could easily have kept these words, thoughts, and poems to yourself, but in sharing them with us, you are opening your heart to your readers and giving so much of yourself. Please know that in return, as our eyes read your words, you have profoundly touched us with your poetry and prose and made us all reflect on our own lives. That's the power and beauty of art. 🙏
Thank you, Michael. Your kind words mean a lot to me. I hope you don't mind me sharing some of this on notes, as I attempt to reach a larger audience. I could never have shared any of this as a young woman, but at my age, she almost seems like someone else, and I feel only gentle compassion for her. I'm glad I've grown since then. But I know there are so many other women (and men too perhaps) who have experienced some of this. I like to think if they are reading this, they won't feel so alone.
Absolutely, by all means! I hope they find your page, and connect with your love of poetry, writing, art, and dive deeper into your fascinating life story. This recent series has been a wonderful deep dive.
I apologize for not being more savvy on Notes. That is entirely on me. I really shy away from using that part of Substack and rarely use it. It's the one part of the platform that I am not comfortable with, as it reminds me too much of social media and why I left it (and I also find it a time suck). That said, I know it's a Catch-22, as being active on Notes is probably the best way to have things noticed and grow an audience. Looking at my feed, there are clearly people on it who are much more clued in and connected on Notes than I am.
Thanks Michael! No apologies needed, I'm not too savvy myself on Notes but trying to make better use of it. And you are so right, social media is a time suck!
The torments of love with the eventual bleaching of passion and lust. The ancient Greeks knew that Aphrodite and Eros were trouble. Yet, the love of love still persists, the longing for the longing.
Thanks, Jim. Yes, that longing for "something more" is how I've always thought of it, for something deeper, vaster, more complete and everlasting. We look for it in our lovers, in others, and eventually realize we can only find what we are seeking in ourselves, where it's been the whole time, unseen. That's why we seek it, because we sense it--that sense of wholeness, oneness--and want it for ourselves. But like the old song says, we are searching for love in all the wrong places.
You and I both grew up in the land of Disney with happy-ever-endings. We longed for that.
We sang m I c k e y. M o u s e. Imagine. We knew we were different than them—the Mickey Mouse Club members—but didn’t want to be different
Wishing and hoping
More wishing and hoping
Feeling defective.
Left with longings and yearnings we believed we could get relief from someone else.
Surviving adolescence but wounded, we found rock and roll and realized we were deceived. Yet—as Lenny Bruce found out—intellectual awareness did not dampen the yearnings and longings which survived often in the dark away from the sterilizing light of reason. Reason, self-righteous and arrogant gods and goddesses.
Yearning and longings sometimes a better more tasty nourishment for the soul than the unbuttered, bleached white bread of reason.
I think you are right, Jim, about the times we lived in, and also when you say: Yearning and longings sometimes a better more tasty nourishment for the soul than the unbuttered, bleached white bread of reason.
It's wonderful that you've kept these poems, written while in the midst of things. I know of writers who destroyed their early work and later wish they'd kept them. The immediacy of those feelings can't really be recaptured with hindsight. Fortunately, you've kept this poetic record of love's journey. Glad you're sharing them here, Deborah.
Thanks, Andrew. I'm glad I kept them too. It was interesting to revisit them, especially in terms of what came after.
Your expressive release of emotion via words is touching and heartbreakingly sad, yet beautiful at the same time.
Wow... thank you for sharing this series, Deborah. They have been a joy to read, and I have been moved by them. You could easily have kept these words, thoughts, and poems to yourself, but in sharing them with us, you are opening your heart to your readers and giving so much of yourself. Please know that in return, as our eyes read your words, you have profoundly touched us with your poetry and prose and made us all reflect on our own lives. That's the power and beauty of art. 🙏
Thank you, Michael. Your kind words mean a lot to me. I hope you don't mind me sharing some of this on notes, as I attempt to reach a larger audience. I could never have shared any of this as a young woman, but at my age, she almost seems like someone else, and I feel only gentle compassion for her. I'm glad I've grown since then. But I know there are so many other women (and men too perhaps) who have experienced some of this. I like to think if they are reading this, they won't feel so alone.
Absolutely, by all means! I hope they find your page, and connect with your love of poetry, writing, art, and dive deeper into your fascinating life story. This recent series has been a wonderful deep dive.
I apologize for not being more savvy on Notes. That is entirely on me. I really shy away from using that part of Substack and rarely use it. It's the one part of the platform that I am not comfortable with, as it reminds me too much of social media and why I left it (and I also find it a time suck). That said, I know it's a Catch-22, as being active on Notes is probably the best way to have things noticed and grow an audience. Looking at my feed, there are clearly people on it who are much more clued in and connected on Notes than I am.
Thanks Michael! No apologies needed, I'm not too savvy myself on Notes but trying to make better use of it. And you are so right, social media is a time suck!
The torments of love with the eventual bleaching of passion and lust. The ancient Greeks knew that Aphrodite and Eros were trouble. Yet, the love of love still persists, the longing for the longing.
Thanks, Jim. Yes, that longing for "something more" is how I've always thought of it, for something deeper, vaster, more complete and everlasting. We look for it in our lovers, in others, and eventually realize we can only find what we are seeking in ourselves, where it's been the whole time, unseen. That's why we seek it, because we sense it--that sense of wholeness, oneness--and want it for ourselves. But like the old song says, we are searching for love in all the wrong places.
May I add another layer of complicity?
You and I both grew up in the land of Disney with happy-ever-endings. We longed for that.
We sang m I c k e y. M o u s e. Imagine. We knew we were different than them—the Mickey Mouse Club members—but didn’t want to be different
Wishing and hoping
More wishing and hoping
Feeling defective.
Left with longings and yearnings we believed we could get relief from someone else.
Surviving adolescence but wounded, we found rock and roll and realized we were deceived. Yet—as Lenny Bruce found out—intellectual awareness did not dampen the yearnings and longings which survived often in the dark away from the sterilizing light of reason. Reason, self-righteous and arrogant gods and goddesses.
Yearning and longings sometimes a better more tasty nourishment for the soul than the unbuttered, bleached white bread of reason.
I think you are right, Jim, about the times we lived in, and also when you say: Yearning and longings sometimes a better more tasty nourishment for the soul than the unbuttered, bleached white bread of reason.