I'm glad you ended on a positive note ... daffodils, spring and summer to look forward to ... Still the same shit going on, but a glimmer of hope ... maybe 🌼
Yes, it’s just my way of purging myself of my dark. I have a laugh as well, not just sat here staring into the void. I went out on Sunday night and had a good time, today I’m going up to stay with my mum a few days. Hope all is well with you and yours, Jean x
I write through the darkness too, but think of it now as void and palace and imprints and larkness and monstrous and a sea of negatives, which is a bridge to escapes routes for the femme fatale?
darkness is a bridge to fatality’s nozzle, death and the cumber bunnies. Seamus Heaney, I like him too. His poetry is not through the darkness its through the peat the land the barley, that sorta thing. touches darkness like the wind. but escapes its brutality. I dont. darkness is a summons — to horror of the everyday even, yeah kinda
I dont think anything I write is without its perpetuation, insinuation, perforation...etc. to me darkness is what religion comes out of... I think of it as a place of fiction, where terror and beauty clash. Fiction in the sense that philosophy these days seems to criminalize thats a joke.
I’m writing in defence of the Willow tree so that you can maybe see it from a different perspective.
I have one in my garden, not near water, which I think was planted about 60 years ago.
Since we moved into the house it’s taken a few knocks, the cold winter winds batter it, it’s lost a couple of limbs, but it always comes back to life just a different shape. It’s a fighter! (Rather like humans).
Its sleep period is very short and before you know it the lime green of new leaves (in late Feb) gives a foretaste of what’s to come. Blue skies, warm sunshine and new life…
Thank you so much. I like to feel appreciated, as do we all I suppose. Plenty more bleak where that came from. If you look under ‘Poetry’ under my home page. Also this might be of interest to you.
But only if you want some? I feel so privileged to have discovered your writing that I can’t imagine feeling indifferent or disinclined - whether you are waving, drowning or shaking your fist to rage against the dying of the light. Thank you for it all. Every bleak, timorous, hopeful word of it.
not to be afeard of your darkness poems. theres lovely in it. courage to bleak reeks of its swollen fleet wearing its pride at battling with its torture, doesnt hide the worst lets it burst. and it is a freedom. I think, worth fighting for.
I'm glad you ended on a positive note ... daffodils, spring and summer to look forward to ... Still the same shit going on, but a glimmer of hope ... maybe 🌼
Yes, it’s just my way of purging myself of my dark. I have a laugh as well, not just sat here staring into the void. I went out on Sunday night and had a good time, today I’m going up to stay with my mum a few days. Hope all is well with you and yours, Jean x
All good here, too many hot cross buns and chocolate but hey ho! 😊
I just had one Easter Egg but it was a nice one.
I think of it as something more than making peace. its opening its a hole in the dimensions....
I write through the darkness too, but think of it now as void and palace and imprints and larkness and monstrous and a sea of negatives, which is a bridge to escapes routes for the femme fatale?
darkness is a bridge to fatality’s nozzle, death and the cumber bunnies. Seamus Heaney, I like him too. His poetry is not through the darkness its through the peat the land the barley, that sorta thing. touches darkness like the wind. but escapes its brutality. I dont. darkness is a summons — to horror of the everyday even, yeah kinda
Not everything I write is dark but when I feel it it has to come out. An ink spill blood let of sorts.
new to seeing your poetry - ink blood & lightness are needed!
I dont think anything I write is without its perpetuation, insinuation, perforation...etc. to me darkness is what religion comes out of... I think of it as a place of fiction, where terror and beauty clash. Fiction in the sense that philosophy these days seems to criminalize thats a joke.
I’m writing in defence of the Willow tree so that you can maybe see it from a different perspective.
I have one in my garden, not near water, which I think was planted about 60 years ago.
Since we moved into the house it’s taken a few knocks, the cold winter winds batter it, it’s lost a couple of limbs, but it always comes back to life just a different shape. It’s a fighter! (Rather like humans).
Its sleep period is very short and before you know it the lime green of new leaves (in late Feb) gives a foretaste of what’s to come. Blue skies, warm sunshine and new life…
I rest my case… 😊
Thank you. A beautiful alternative perspective.
Glad I came across your poetry today. Perfect for the maudlin mood I find myself in. Thankyou 💜
Thank you so much. I like to feel appreciated, as do we all I suppose. Plenty more bleak where that came from. If you look under ‘Poetry’ under my home page. Also this might be of interest to you.
https://open.substack.com/pub/juliedee/p/dips-crevasses-and-hope?r=1c4b56&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
Beautiful poems, what amazing world you have Julie ✨♥️
Thank you, lovely😊
Somehow your poems very often echo my mood xx
You’ve said that before, I know. Maybe you and I have the same inner demons eh?
It does feel likely! X
But only if you want some? I feel so privileged to have discovered your writing that I can’t imagine feeling indifferent or disinclined - whether you are waving, drowning or shaking your fist to rage against the dying of the light. Thank you for it all. Every bleak, timorous, hopeful word of it.
Love the elemental battle in the preamble too.
Thank you, Christian.
Appreciate that.
Just having one of those nights when I do my own head in.
<3 Love.
Thank you
Beautiful, Julie…but um, I’d keep Water for the time being, you know, in case Fire gets too, um, fired up. You take care 🙏💙💫
Fire is my favourite. She should burn the others clean away😂😂
She would, but something needs to remain behind…Fire with Air can devour Earth, only Water can help. 💙
not to be afeard of your darkness poems. theres lovely in it. courage to bleak reeks of its swollen fleet wearing its pride at battling with its torture, doesnt hide the worst lets it burst. and it is a freedom. I think, worth fighting for.