Been a spell since I’ve shared a never-before-read poem for you goofballs, so why not today?! WHY NOT NOW!?
I stumbled on another poem I wrote a couple of years back for the same amazing guy who purchased not one, but TWELVE completely original, custom poems, as a gift for someone he loved.
Different stories, different memories, different feelings, emotions, and reasons, but I had complete creative freedom to translate those into words.
Translate I did. Or tried to.
The poem is below, and also, Substack now lets me add “Audience specific” content inside the same post, which is amazing and weird, so for all you amazing weirdos that are part of the paid community and help keep this unicorn of a place alive, you’ll be getting some special insight, breakdown, and more details on the piece below.
For those new to here, just browsing, or who haven’t yet joined the family, you’ll see the poem and hear me reading it, with an opportunity to join us for the whole shebang.
Just letting you know how that all works!
Here’s the poem, and some crap about it:
Writing this one, truth told, came easy. I’ve long said my only real fear is a life without Sarah in it. I know this is bad, I know this is not very Buddhist of me as non-attachment is love in its purest form, but you know what:
F all that.
When I love, I Love all the way.
This poem was born from that. I do not know what comes if she left before I did. I do not know what anything is, what I am, what the world would be. I do not know, I do not wish to know.
This poem is that. “The feather’s weight for a forlorn wait.”
Here, below, is the spoken word version of this piece, for those who do not abhor the sound of my voice.
I Love you all.
Be good.
This poem is wonderful. The cadence reminds one of the motion and feel of swimming underwater, sweeping, dreamy and fluid. The impression of your words and structure can also lead to breaking through - the barrier of surface to immersion - the barrier of being lost to letting go - the barrier of carrying on and doing good. I was expecting something more dark about 9/11 today, but this is so much better - transformative for us to commemorate by taking what has happened and “learning to see underwater”. Thank you.