Free

[Alsiony]

.

[Karren B]

Hi Alsiony

Loved it...Good to see you back.

There are so many good lines in this.

but i like the realization at the end.

I am amazed to finally know -
That I don't need you anymore -
That the spiral is my staircase -
And the key is mine again, to do with as I choose

.

Karren B
xx

[carm]

Alsiony, I really enjoyed these lines from your poem:

To hold hands in the first instance -
But to keep hold, even past the last
With a promise of endurance
A promise of forever
Born out of the discovery
Of their precious intrinsic intertwining
Sacred grounds now fused into an island

It has been said that…
“Love knows no limit to its endurance,
no end to its trust, no fading of its hope;
it can outlast anything. Love still stands
when all else has fallen.”

It is to the one's who patiently endure, that a final glory comes.

…Turn to the right, to the left
Search all around…

As Karen B writes…

There are so many good lines in this.

[Alsiony]

Thanks for your replies Karren and Carm...

Karren - the 'story' within this probably would have been full enough without me adding to it further by including those final lines of thought. However - I wanted to put them in because I guess I am trying to express mt belief that everything - everything, is made up of choices at the end of the day. (Well, this is my opinion, based on experience - for what it's worth!)
That is not to say we can suddenly become robotic, unable to spontaneously feel or act, unable to loose control, or to completely muck things up, (heaven forbid! - in a way!) - but sometimes the saving grace can be to recognise what we all fundamentally have within us...that individually we own our selves, more than anyone else in the whole world could possibly own us. If you can truly recognise that within yourself, then you will be able to see that you do have a choice, and really the obstacle is a matter of bravery and actually putting to use what you already have inside of you - the ability and power to change your path.
Sometimes when you hit rock bottom - then it is just as well to say to yourself that you might as well try being brave, that is another way to see it. I think that is valid too. I mean 'you' as in everyone - myself included.
I once had an great long conversation with someone, (well there have been just a few over the years ) - If there really is no other way to be, other than letting this happen to you, then don't just let it happen to you - try seeing it from this point of view... try making that a deliberate choice in your own mind. Try telling yourself that's what you actually want. Choose it whole-heartedly - thoroughly decide it then. Actually consciously choosing to be a victim, or deliberately choosing to stay on in misery - as it turns out - is a much harder and more impossible thing to do than choosing to take control, be brave and make something positive happen. By the way, this person was not living under persecution, or within a regime - it was an entirely domestic circumstance.
You weigh it up I guess, you don't just go through life wildly chopping it all up with a great set of decision making shears though The point is to try and see things in reality, not to become a lunatic afterall!
But anyways - given a good degree of recognising that you do own yourself at the end of the day - can transform a downward spiral into a staircase up, which is a brilliant thing


Carm, I agree with what you say - to some extent - about patient endurance, but I may be taking it in my own context. I agree with your bible quote too.

Were you meaning your response as an overall statement concerning love in general?

A
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[carm]

Alsiony writes:

The point is to try and see things in reality, not to become a lunatic afterall!

given a good degree of recognising that you do own yourself at the end of the day - can transform a downward spiral into a staircase up, which is a brilliant thing

What we achieve inwardly can change the way in which we perceive outer reality, if willed. If we can learn to use our time wisely and patiently endure so that every step of the staircase is ascended with a warm, comfortable drift to the top. However, even though some might find themselves soaring comfortably upward, they still may find it hard to acclimatize themselves to the realization of such a victory.

Alsiony writes:

Were you meaning your response as an overall statement concerning love in general?

I think my response was just a basic preliminary statement concerning love in general. So much more can be said, don’t you think?

[Alsiony]

Carm , ofcourse I think you are right, ofcourse any change inwardly will effect our outward view, that's largely how it all works - but I also think that because what we naturally feel inside just to begin with ( and for whatever reason) - already shapes how we initially perceive outer reality - that this will therefore be, in most cases, the foundation stones built upon. There are very few who can fundamentally change the very core of themselves, and why should you want to? - The idea is to use what you already have, to positively grow who you are - not to delete who you were to begin with, in my opinion.
This is not entirely without exception, I am speaking in a general sense. But think of the world that we collectively live in, the day to day running of things as it were - don't get me wrong...I feel that a lot of the structure of it is absolutely nothing to do with true reality at all, but then, how about this fake daily reality that most people are subjected to? Can patience and endurance always seem to get a person through all of that?
What I am saying is... it's not thoroughly real, but right here and now - it seems to largely be the only 'real' that there is on offer generally. It's a prison in some senses. The structure of this daily reality is like the installation of a great artificial barrier that is totally messing up the tides and rhythms.
It is a very difficult question with much more than just one answer.

I like the picture you have posted

Here are some images that are quite close to what I see in my own head when I write things like this poem (- try as I might, I can't actually get my brain to work like a true projector of pictures so these will have to do haha)

Fractal Seashell

Fractal Spiral

Patience and endurance are ideal in some circumstances - I certainly do not dispute that...but if you are suffering...is it right to sit there and be patient and enduring? It does not always serve well. This poem is about checking into reality - sometimes we want that which actually damages us too much, and it can be very difficult to break free from that mind set. Patience and endurance have an extremely valid place within love ofcourse. The situations of love themselves may come to an end, but that does not mean that the feelings do. Patience and endurance with Love itself is a different matter. They both have a definite place, but each individuals true self ownership, well that would be one hell of a great step forward to begin with for all things, including love itself, as well as love's patterns
...
Yes - it is true to say that there is much to say on the in-exhaustable subject of love
That is a magnificent thing just in itself isn't it?

A
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[carm]

We are all worthy of love and can find ways to share oursleves with others and even learn something valuable from them. We can all make individual contributions to the world and to those around us, holding our best intentions deep in our heart. Unfortunately, at the core of some is a lack of self-acceptance and a deep feeling of disconnection. The disconnection can be from ourselves, from others, from our spiritual nature, or from any number of combinations. We have to work to deepen our acceptance and connection at the core of ourselves on a constant basis. Ultimately and thankfully, it’s our choice to be patient and endure.

We are our own ambassador and must conduct ourselves accordingly, based on our acquiescence towards deep-rooted principles, standards we set based on individual truths and experiences. I think we are quite capable of transcending our expectations of ourselves (climb the staircase), if we are willing to commit ourselves wholly to the task before us in an effort to reach the peak.

Alsiony writes:

I also think that because what we naturally feel inside just to begin with ( and for whatever reason) - already shapes how we initially perceive outer reality - that this will therefore be, in most cases, the foundation stones built upon. There are very few who can fundamentally change the very core of themselves, and why should you want to?

Yes, I like that.

We are born whole and complete and are just who we are.

Alsiony writes:

Can patience and endurance always seem to get a person through all of that?

The structure of this daily reality is like the installation of a great artificial barrier that is totally messing up the tides and rhythms.

Patience is the foundation of endurance and tied together, they strengthen ones power. Why convert it all to stress to be laid upon the soul which in time messes up ones tides and rhythms.

Alsiony writes:

This poem is about checking into reality - sometimes we want that which actually damages us too much, and it can be very difficult to break free from that mind set.

So true for many of us isn't it…

Alsiony writes:

Yes - it is true to say that there is much to say on the in-exhaustable subject of love
That is a magnificent thing just in itself isn't it?

Yes, indeed

[Alsiony]

You know something Carm - your last picture, with this figure that you have included - made me smile an enormous smile

For me, amongst other things, it reminded me of Peter pan, in a sense...

I think that a fundamental requirement in Love, is to, one way or another never grow old in yourself. That's probably about as far as the idea of Peter Pan is relevant here really, that can be extended upon - regeneration of yourself, and your approach to love, life, all things - makes for the sweetest most successful dance up to the top of the stairs at times. Sure you change, you evolve and you are physically and mentally subject to life's seasons, but don't die before you are dead - so to speak

A
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[carm]

Alsiony writes:

I think that a fundamental requirement in Love, is to, one way or another never grow old in yourself. That's probably about as far as the idea of Peter Pan is relevant here really, that can be extended upon - regeneration of yourself, and your approach to love, life, all things - makes for the sweetest most successful dance up to the top of the stairs at times. Sure you change, you evolve and you are physically and mentally subject to life's seasons, but don't die before you are dead - so to speak

I came across this a couple of months ago…

We Can Be Forever Young

Youth is not a time of life - it is a state of mind, it is a temper
of the will, a quality of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions, a
predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for
adventure over love of ease.

Nobody grows old by merely living a number of years; people
grow old only by deserting their ideals. Years wrinkle the skin, but
to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul. Worry, doubt, self-distrust,
fear and despair - these are the long, long years that bow
the head and turn the growing spirit back to dust.

Whether seventy or sixteen, there is in every being's heart the
love of wonder, the sweet amazement at the stars and starlike
things and thoughts, the undaunted challenge of events, the
unfailing childlike appetite for what next, and the joy and the
game of life.

You are as young as your faith, as old as your doubt; as young
as your self-confidence, as old as your fear, as young as your hope,
as old as your despair.

So long as your heart receives messages of beauty, cheer,
courage, grandeur and power from the earth, from man and from
the Infinite, so long you are young.

When the wires are all down and all the innermost core of your
heart is covered with the snows of pessimism and the ice of
cynicism, then you are grown old indeed and may God have mercy
on your soul.

Author Unknown

Alsiony writes:

Turn to the right, to the left
Search all around
For a sudden nothingness has appeared
Obscurity descended without warning
This Icarus lady has lost the Sun
She slides a downward spiral into darkest tribulation
Bombarding herself with her own confused questions
Like arrows, tipped with the poison
Of absent answers, his silence.
Despair becomes her.

He says:

I am amazed to finally know -
That I don't need you anymore -
That the spiral is my staircase -
And the key is mine again, to do with as I choose.

I believe that the spiral is our staircase -
And the key is offered to us all, to do with as we choose.

and perhaps,

Love grows old only when couples (lovers) desert their ideals and give up on Love's enthusiasm, thus wrinkling each of their souls. Worry, doubt, self-distrust, fear and despair - these are the long, long years that can bow the head of Love and turn its flourishing spirit back to dust.

[Alsiony]

I really enjoyed that piece - thankyou Carm,

I am a little confused about exactly what you mean when you put 'he says' on the second quote from my poem though - who is 'he'? - Apologies if I have missed something obvious that you are saying!

Yes, I agree with your last point, taken from the piece you posted. Something particular struck me about it instantly, I will see more, the more I read it - but this part -

So long as your heart receives messages of beauty, cheer,
courage, grandeur and power from the earth, from man and from
the Infinite, so long you are young.

Sometimes you do not feel that you are receiving these so called messages, for whatever reason you do not feel them - from any source - and the question then is - in that type of situation - can you bring yourself to continue to support, love, and offer what you can? When you do not feel it as thoroughly in return? I think that this is a most serious test for anyone, even when they may have the clearest perspective and perception. When someone achieves that, whilst residing in such great loneliness, then I believe they also learn some most precious lessons in return.

Water in the desert

A
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[carm]

Alsiony writes:

I am a little confused about exactly what you mean when you put 'he says' on the second quote from my poem though - who is 'he'? - Apologies if I have missed something obvious that you are saying!

What I though by applying the 'He says' to the words of your poem was to take everything that 'She' was saying throughout the poem and give voice to the other, the "He" of the poem as though she had just voiced the words of the poem to him and the 'He says' was his conclusion to their circumstances. But, maybe I am reading the poem wrong!

By the way, I discovered that 'We Can Be Forever Young', was based on the poem 'Youth', written by Samuel Ullman, a Jewish poet.

Alsiony writes…

Sometimes you do not feel that you are receiving these so called messages, for whatever reason you do not feel them - from any source - and the question then is - in that type of situation - can you bring yourself to continue to support, love, and offer what you can? When you do not feel it as thoroughly in return? I think that this is a most serious test for anyone, even when they may have the clearest perspective and perception. When someone achieves that, whilst residing in such great loneliness, then I believe they also learn some most precious lessons in return.

Yes, I like what you have said in your quoted text above.

This poem also came to mind as I reread yours…

A Memory Of Youth

THE moments passed as at a play;
I had the wisdom love brings forth;
I had my share of mother-wit,
And yet for all that I could say,
And though I had her praise for it,
A cloud blown from the cut-throat North
Suddenly hid Love's moon away.
Believing every word I said,
I praised her body and her mind
Till pride had made her eyes grow bright,
And pleasure made her cheeks grow red,
And vanity her footfall light,
Yet we, for all that praise, could find
Nothing but darkness overhead.
We sat as silent as a stone,
We knew, though she'd not said a word,
That even the best of love must die,
And had been savagely undone
Were it not that Love upon the cry
Of a most ridiculous little bird
Tore from the clouds his marvellous moon.
ALTHOUGH crowds gathered once if she but showed her face,
And even old men's eyes grew dim, this hand alone,
Like some last courtier at a gypsy camping-place
Babbling of fallen majesty, records what's gone.
These lineaments, a heart that laughter has made sweet,
These, these remain, but I record what-s gone. A crowd
Will gather, and not know it walks the very street
Whereon a thing once walked that seemed a burning cloud

– William Butler Yeats

Please forgive me, but I also found this of interest…

Leonard Cohen Speaks to Me About That Old Fear of Darkness Never Ending

I ask my rebbe Leonard, the wise exalted one,

as snow is squeezed like toothpaste

across the linden's trembling limbs,

and the black dog, powdered, rakes the frozen

ground. I'm baffled by faith. The light is gone.

Cold and dark are the days of my life.

Leonard leans in and smiles, speaks of a

hatless summer on a Greek isle,

his sun-smoked head cooking words,

releasing them, a cloud pillar risen

to deep blue vapor. Don't bother

with what it means, he confides. I was hot

and couldn't slake my thirst.

If you must cry about darkness,

save your tears for summer's birthday.

Light the wick rolled in the honeycomb,

go to bed, pull up the covers.

Every sliver of light shaved off each day

has been stored in the vineyards, in the ruby grains

of pomegranates, in the breath between lovers.

Remind yourself that a cracked jar filled with light

is hidden somewhere close, and tomorrow,

when the sun greets you a moment sooner,

open the door of your cupboard.

– Isa Milman

[Alsiony]

Carm - I want to spend a better amount of time reading the words in your last post before I reply - I am pushed for time this morning! Will check back later

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[Alsiony]

What I though by applying the 'He says' to the words of your poem was to take everything that 'She' was saying throughout the poem and give voice to the other, the "He" of the poem as though she had just voiced the words of the poem to him and the 'He says' was his conclusion to their circumstances. But, maybe I am reading the poem wrong!

Well there is no right or wrong - that is the wonderful freedom afforded concerning poetry isn't it It can strike different chords, mean different things, or even one line of it can be taken completely out of surface context and seen as relevant to a thoroughly different idea or thought, and, you read it however it naturally strikes you as well
I assumed that (above quote) is kind of what you were meaning, but I didn't want to respond on that assumption until I had asked you about it. I like your thinking here. As for what I meant when I wrote it... the 'she' is the only voice talking here - it is the 'she's' personal reflection on the situation, as well as on herself and the 'he' within it. Firstly talking in the third person, then describing the loss of the 'he' she is talking about, despite the apparent endless love that they have shared. It's kind of ironic in a way - such earth shattering love - does come to an end. In order to heal she needs to step outside of the aftermath into reality - hence the last part being spoken in the first person. He does not have a voice here as such- hence her own confused questions, the arrows and the absent answers. For her... The love she feels has not died - it just turned out that he was not capable of seeing it through, and she is plunged into a need to get over it entirely alone.
Well that's the very basic story within it- there are allusions to all sorts of ideas concerning love and ones state of mind etc in general, as we have already been discussing

Thankyou for posting the Yeats

We sat as silent as a stone,
We knew, though she'd not said a word, (He'd)
That even the best of love must die,
And had been savagely undone


I love this Isa Milman poem you have included - where have I heard the name before? Hmmm, I can't place it

his sun-smoked head cooking words,

releasing them, a cloud pillar risen

to deep blue vapor.

What a wonderful way of expressing it!


I love how the ending has been written too...

Every sliver of light shaved off each day

has been stored in the vineyards, in the ruby grains

of pomegranates, in the breath between lovers.

Remind yourself that a cracked jar filled with light

is hidden somewhere close, and tomorrow,

when the sun greets you a moment sooner,

open the door of your cupboard.

But this is perhaps my most favourite line within the entire poem

I'm baffled by faith

Speaking in general - the question is not of having a great faith or a lack of faith in anything (which is a popular question) - no, that is not the problem - the problem is - despite having a strong faith in something - it still does not provide you with the answers about which way to actually turn at times.

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[carm]

Alsiony writes:

Well there is no right or wrong - that is the wonderful freedom afforded concerning poetry isn't it It can strike different chords, mean different things, or even one line of it can be taken completely out of surface context and seen as relevant to a thoroughly different idea or thought, and, you read it however it naturally strikes you as well…

Yes, poetry magnifies the freedoms language affords us and embodies that freedom as it executes the power of our words as they surge toward infinite breadths of expression.

I am reminded of…

I heard of a man
who says words so beautifully
that if he only speaks their name
women give themselves to him.
If I am dumb beside your body
while silence blossoms like tumors on our lips.
it is because I hear a man climb stairs and clear his throat outside the door.

– Leonard Cohen

A poet is a little like a photographer who captures an image/subject from an unexpected angle, even when that image/subject has been written about many times before, and as the reader, you are invited to consider it from new perspectives. Poetry is inherently "dramatic" and involves a process and a conflict in an effort to find meaning. The reader should "surrender to" the impact of the poem as a whole,

“The language a good poem uses is similarly fresh, surprising, memorable – a flavor that lingers on the tongue.” – Alice Schertle.

of your poem FREE…

Though ‘she’ laments loves abated, thus nullified ambitions, those once enthusiastic aesthetic beliefs of her own youthful insights, she comes to terms with the termination of the relationship, realizing there is no going back to the wild hush of love’s dedication, to the dreamy solitude of two, and the glorious intrigue at the core of its intense, once held beliefs.

I think that at the conclusion of the poem where 'she' meets us with a mind athirst for new challenges, it suggests a brimming confidence in her spirit. The key is ‘hers’ once again and 'she' is FREE to do with it as ‘she’ pleases, while ascending her spiral staircase. As reflected in the poem's title, she is FREE, having come full circle to where she once began. And so, once again with…

A free and thirsty mind.
She walks a solitary path.

But, so long as her heart is open to messages of beauty, cheer, courage, grandeur and power from the earth, from man and from the Infinite, so long as she can remain young at heart, the key IS hers and one day her solitude will be slaked, even though there will be days where…"sometimes, the rain it will raineth every day"…

But here at the end, out of Love’s chaos ‘she’ has compelled a new order. The image of her perception moulds her mood and she is able to voice something positive through the medium of her words.

Perhaps to be FREE, you just need to turn to yourself and
“Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you…”

"Love after Love"

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

– Derek Walcott

................

I ask Leonard, the wise exalted one,
why I'm baffled by faith, why the light is gone.
Leonard leans in and smiles,
his sun-smoked head cooking words,
releasing them…

Remind yourself that a cracked jar filled with light
is hidden somewhere close, and tomorrow,
when the sun greets you a moment sooner,
open the door of your cupboard.

[Alsiony]

Carm - that is truly spooky! - Late last night I picked up a copy of The Time Traveller's Wife (which I bought with some other bits after rummaging around in a second hand book shop a while ago) and I read the exact same Derek Walcott poem that has been included in the first pages of this book! - It struck me how relevant it is to this thread, and I had decided that I was going to post it - but look! - You beat me to it haha. What a nice coincidence Needless to say, I read it a few times over, and have therefore still yet to start reading The Time Traveller's Wife itself, it'll happen one day.
I have checked out Derek Walcott a little - what a lovely man he seems to be, I like the vibes so far.


And so, with this quote that you have highlighted -

''Perhaps to be FREE, you just need to turn to yourself and
“Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you''

We return pretty much full circle to the original point made about truly realising your own self ownership.

I love your picture of the jar light andn the meaning you have leant to it in relation to the Isa Milman poem.
- Here's one of mine, (excuse my dodgy photo taking haha), though looking at jar lights from a different angle for a second - if everything else were as simple - then all of it would be far far too easy

home-made jar light

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