"When the misery is still: "When the misery is still there
But no longer defines you
What is that called?"
The definition is new every morning, but always something a little better than yesterday.
There's so much power tucked into this relatable expression of struggle and those small victories that add up to ultimate triumph. I love the way you acknowledge this truth by spotlighting the way you get out of bed anyway and celebrate the tiny miracles that you do have in your life.
An inspiring example of growth, and as ewbonitz said, "acceptance".
The constraints of time keep: The constraints of time keep me from giving your brilliant collection the attention it deserves, but I'm always delightfully stunned when I do pop in. This heart-clutching memorial is everything a tribute should be. With a sharp eye for emotive details and your familiar prowess, you brought the feelings home.
Excellent as always.
Joining you in protest: Joining you in protest against the neo-nazi style practice of book banning that is flagrantly being practiced in our nation. We absolutely should rail against it because, as you very eloquently proclaimed:
" a book has no ability to make us think
to stir our imagination…
no power to inspire…
when it is closed."
A well-penned call to keep books (and minds) open.
Any society that allows the: Any society that allows the destitution you powerfully described cannot call itself enlightened. I've heard every excuse for why we allow it, but the fact is, it's a humanitarian crisis and it's unacceptable. A very important message.
The great British actor,: The great British actor, Peter Cushing, had a very devout Faith, which helped him deal with the passing of his beloved wife. When, during an interview, a journalist told him, "I'm sorry for your loss," he replied, courteously and with a smile, "I haven't lost her, I know exactly where she is. She just isn't right here at the moment." I think he also believed that being apart from our deceased loved ones is like being on the same railroad but in different depots and on different trains, but all headed to a great destination. Sometime after her passing, botanists in England cultivated a new species of Rose, and named it for Helen Cushing.
I have to take many pills: I have to take many pills too, to counteract or regulate my body's cotinued physical collapse. I sometimes resent it, but I realize they emable to me to enjoy, to an extent, what moments of happiness still remain for me.
The beauty of this series, a: The beauty of this series, a beauty well demonstrated in this entry, is that it is both the sum of its parts, and more than the sum of its parts. By the sum of its parts, I mean that so many of your statements or phrases could stand independently as aphorisms---a mighty fine talent to have (and one I baldly lack, therefore I admire it the more in those who have it). But then, they all work together to become each entry, which then become the whole series---so this is the aspect that is more than the sum of its parts.
This reminds me so much of: This reminds me so much of weekend nights with my First Beloved during the summer of 1976; the words of your poem brought all those memories to the forefront.
I like your writing style. I: I like your writing style. I love your reminiscences. My heart goes out to Little Evan and, after reading this, to Zach. But your bravery in posting this candor . . . let me say again, your BRAVERY . . . is both overwhelming and encouraging. You are helping others as you continue to expand this series, but you are also setting an example of artistic honesty and how to push the envelope without being ostentatious or campy.
PostPoems has several Poets whom I consider to be PILLARS or BEACONS of this community, and this consideration is not numerous because I am rather particular. But among that small number of PostPoems' Pillars, to whom I gladly look up and whose poems and other writing I gladly read, you are included. I am glad to see this series expanding---I believe it will do some mighty great things, now and in the future.
I feel highly privileged to: I feel highly privileged to be able to watch the ongoing expansion of your Poetic accomplishment. That moment, after the Big Bang, when the stars began to coalesce and then to shine is an apt metaphor for your Poetry, as it is received on Postpoems. The sound of any or all of Bach's Fugues would be an appropriate accompaniment and sound track to your Poems' development.
You are correct. With Lent: You are correct. With Lent approaching, these thoughts become more preva;ent right now, but on the other side of Lent is the Pascal Celebration, and the coming of Spring. Easter, or Pascha, has been my favorite Holiday since I was nine years old, and even more so now, as I draw ever close to my time of departure. Plus, my continuing medical difficulties remind me, sometimes quite forcefully, of the ongoing failure of my health; and I am weary of these relentless aches and pains.