I drink to where I’m going. I cry for where I’ve been. I’m a fire, softly glowing, but air is growing thin. The truths I once knew are now ashes and dust.
This would make a terrific song, Paul. But you would need the right singer for it - somebody like Leonard Cohen - especially in his later years when he dedicated himself more to his work. Yes, I can just imagine the great Leonard singing, with a rueful smile:
Wow - a powerful piece, Paul. With no upbeat ending, it really makes the reader sit with those feelings. I'm a big fan of David Whyte, and he always says that the only way to deal with grief is to let yourself experience it fully -- sit with it, even befriend it. I think your narrator is doing just that. Hard, but honest and necessary. (I too think it could make a great song!)
Thank you, Hal--I share David Whyte's view. I once commented to another reader that I thought beauty and love are the twin progenitors of grief and I think David is right in the sense that some grief can stay with you, and you become familiar with it, befriend it, because it, too, grieves.
Ice cracks in my drink in sync; the melt meets memories music swallowed with tears that disappear in years, but another cubic reminder remains to quench thirst drained by the cold winds of time passed between the mirrors reflecting image long gone.
I don't use YouTube too much, but Spadecaller does have several videos that feature Cohen songs, and you might like those as well. This is another favorite -- not Spadecaller, though.
I just love Leonard Cohen, Gloria, and 'Dance Me to the End of Love' is one of my favourite songs, but I don't know the back story to it, so I'll check that out. Thank you for mentioning it, and thank you for the link.
Of course! I've recently just returned to Substack (I dabbled in 2020 in Fiction - circumstances changed, and I'm mainly back to develop my literary criticism. You have an immense back catalogue (and an easy-to-remember channel name) - I struggle to work through people's back catalogues but you can count on me as a loyal reader.
Thank you, Brock. I Launched Paul's Substack back in August 2023. When I was going through the setup procedures, the publication needed a title, and I didn't really have anything catchy or smart in mind, so that's the name I chose thinking that I would change it somewhere along the way. I never got to that. There is quite a bit of work posted, but I am happy to hear that you are looking back as well as forward. I know there are some pieces that did not get much exposure because the audience at the time was tiny. I have reposted some of these, but I'd rather spend time trying to create new content. Happy you subscribed--Thanks again!
Thank you very much, Paul. I've restacked so that I can remember and so that readers might see them as well. You really do write seductive titles though. Very nice.
Thank you, sir! Likewise. I've been pretty busy with all kinds of things and am still writing as well. Don't know if you caught my latest update, so I'll put it here just in case:
This is a beautiful nostalgic poem. I've heard the poem, it's very melodic, a kind of lament from someone who longs for the past to return. In essence, it seems to me to be a poem about someone whose memories cause pain, someone in mourning
Ah, those reflections of the past. Every year I advance in age, I feel all of this. Quite a space of bitter-sweet and often a depth of yearning to see in a mirror that hasn't shattered. Beautiful poem, Paul.
This would make a terrific song, Paul. But you would need the right singer for it - somebody like Leonard Cohen - especially in his later years when he dedicated himself more to his work. Yes, I can just imagine the great Leonard singing, with a rueful smile:
'I once knew a woman
and longed to be near her.
She spoke to my heart
but I no longer hear her.'
Memories are reflections
in a broken mirror,
shattered and splintered
like ice during winter…
Beautiful ❄️
Thank you, Ann!
Wow - a powerful piece, Paul. With no upbeat ending, it really makes the reader sit with those feelings. I'm a big fan of David Whyte, and he always says that the only way to deal with grief is to let yourself experience it fully -- sit with it, even befriend it. I think your narrator is doing just that. Hard, but honest and necessary. (I too think it could make a great song!)
Thank you, Hal--I share David Whyte's view. I once commented to another reader that I thought beauty and love are the twin progenitors of grief and I think David is right in the sense that some grief can stay with you, and you become familiar with it, befriend it, because it, too, grieves.
..this may be why your words are so uncompromisingly
powerful..inevitable as grief is, it takes no solace in its universality..and itself needs consolation
Exactly! And anything that can be felt as deeply as grief can be a source of creative power
Yes - a reluctant muse and mourner both - not given leave to depart until we’re ready to let it go. With no thanks.
This is a nice explanation of how a person feels about someone who is gone.
Ice cracks in my drink in sync; the melt meets memories music swallowed with tears that disappear in years, but another cubic reminder remains to quench thirst drained by the cold winds of time passed between the mirrors reflecting image long gone.
Listen to Cohen’s “Dance Me to the End of Love” and read the backstory. These are Cohen-ese lyrics.
Thank you, Gloria. Here's a little something to see and hear on this Sunday morning:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5_j4f0HiEh0
I wrote a Substack about the song and it's meaning after reading an interview with Cohen. He musicals my musical icon.
https://gloriahortonyoung.substack.com/p/dance-me-to-the-end-of-love?r=a4vn
Lovely, thank you, it’s my first listen and so gorgeous. Be well, G
Thank you for the link. I had not seen that video and it is so meaningful.
I don't use YouTube too much, but Spadecaller does have several videos that feature Cohen songs, and you might like those as well. This is another favorite -- not Spadecaller, though.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gtwUyDPXROQ
Thank you!
I just love Leonard Cohen, Gloria, and 'Dance Me to the End of Love' is one of my favourite songs, but I don't know the back story to it, so I'll check that out. Thank you for mentioning it, and thank you for the link.
Such tenderness. Thank you. Sending a big hug
Aw, Megan--Thank you!
Beautiful. This is lovely.
Thank you for reading and commenting, Brock, and thank you for subscribing!
Of course! I've recently just returned to Substack (I dabbled in 2020 in Fiction - circumstances changed, and I'm mainly back to develop my literary criticism. You have an immense back catalogue (and an easy-to-remember channel name) - I struggle to work through people's back catalogues but you can count on me as a loyal reader.
Thank you, Brock. I Launched Paul's Substack back in August 2023. When I was going through the setup procedures, the publication needed a title, and I didn't really have anything catchy or smart in mind, so that's the name I chose thinking that I would change it somewhere along the way. I never got to that. There is quite a bit of work posted, but I am happy to hear that you are looking back as well as forward. I know there are some pieces that did not get much exposure because the audience at the time was tiny. I have reposted some of these, but I'd rather spend time trying to create new content. Happy you subscribed--Thanks again!
Could you recommend two or three favourites, outstanding, in the rearview?
You might try these:
Nostalgia
Burn After Reading
Language of Desire
A Prayer for These Latter Days
The Long Goodbye
The Birthday Gift
Thank you very much, Paul. I've restacked so that I can remember and so that readers might see them as well. You really do write seductive titles though. Very nice.
A poignant reflection on the past, present and future. I agree with Martin McCarthy; this would make a great song.
Thanks, V P—Good to see you again!
Thank you, sir! Likewise. I've been pretty busy with all kinds of things and am still writing as well. Don't know if you caught my latest update, so I'll put it here just in case:
https://victorypalace.substack.com/p/an-update-from-victory-palace?r=1f37in
Glad to see you're still putting pen to paper--I love the humor in 007: License to Quill!
The last stanza!
As we get older, Frederick, memories seem more susceptible to breakage & loss.
"I drink to where I’m going.
I cry for where I’ve been.
I’m a fire, softly glowing,
but air is growing thin."
This is a beautiful nostalgic poem. I've heard the poem, it's very melodic, a kind of lament from someone who longs for the past to return. In essence, it seems to me to be a poem about someone whose memories cause pain, someone in mourning
🥲🩵
Thank, Grace
Ah, those reflections of the past. Every year I advance in age, I feel all of this. Quite a space of bitter-sweet and often a depth of yearning to see in a mirror that hasn't shattered. Beautiful poem, Paul.
Blessings,
~Wendy💜
Thank you for reading and commenting, Wendy. I'm glad the mirror hasn't shattered yet.
Memories are reflections
in a broken mirror,
shattered and splintered
like ice during winter.
I love this stanza. i love this idea. You have created such a powerful image. I love the poem.
I’m glad this resonated with you, Chad.
Very Nice..
Thanks for reading and commenting, Alicia
"I once knew a woman
and longed to be near her.
She spoke to my heart
but I no longer hear her."
Touched my heart deeply, Paul. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you, Mahdi