Insomnia surprise

[dar]

Haven't been sleeping lately and found some old writings. Box of poems written when I was 14 to 15. Dated all. Ah, the memories of the beginnings of a life of melancholia. Guess it was the door I chose to open.

Here's two to share from 50 years ago from young Dar. So cute.

It really makes me feel poetic and good somewhere inside,
when someone else enjoys my poems and I don't have to hide.

I guess the fact that once in a while someone can see your soul,
makes you go on living, fills in some tiny hole.

Yet like a piece of cheese that gnawed by every mouse in town,
my souls still chewed, society's food, those holes can bring you down.

So once in awhile it's nice to have some empathetic cat,
to chase away those pesky mice til times brings me my rat.

Darlene - 14 years old
Chicago 1967

And one more, I can't resist my adorable young self.

There is a woman who glories in giving birth to the inconceivable.
She loves its missing limbs,
the music in its mute cries.
She denies her depravity,
engaging in ceremonies of creativity
closer to agony than ecstasy.
At this exact moment
she is again pregnant.
We know the truth.
Though she denies it,
this poem is proof!

Darlene
Chicago - 1968

God knows what's coming up when I get to the other boxes with journals, stories, personal letters and more poems over the years.

Here's the serious question...in order to prepare for "letting go and detaching from things" to prepare to die (you never know) should I have a ceremony and burn adult writing that may be very personal or intimate. Maybe it's something my grown children should never know about me and how I felt at times? And opinions?

[lizzytysh]

PLENTY of opinions, since you asked, Dar!

I won't write it in bold, bust surely state it in bold and huge type... please DO NOT destroy anything you've written. All of this is precious to your children. When you go, they will want every morsel of your soul that they can find or that there is evidence for. It's a priceless look at you as young girl... not just a photo but a real capture of what was going inside you, which they could get, find, or have preserved any other way. It's not just for them, but for your grandchildren, and great grandchildren, and on and on, as well. It may be bring comfort knowing how someone else had felt exactly the same as they, yet lived a full and wonderful life. Please don't destroy, but rather protect, such valuable insights and portraits of yourself. There's nothing that ought to be off grounds to them. They're priceless treasures in every way. Let those who follow you decide. They will likely decide to keep them, too... and, ESPECIALLY, now that the world has gone so digital and temporary!

How I wish I had ANYTHING of this nature of my own Mom. They will NEVER be able to ask you everything they will have wished to ask, had they thought of it. Therein, there will be many answers for them.

I liked them both very much. They're wonderful insights into a young girl's mind, a mind of remarkable clarity regarding life around her... and very poetic!

"Yet like a piece of cheese that gnawed by every mouse in town,
my souls still chewed, society's food, those holes can bring you down."

Unique and effective way of expressing the truth... and at such a young age, too

All the best,
Lizzie

[Cate]

What a great find Dar!
You were a talented teenager, very thoughtful.

Here's the serious question...in order to prepare for "letting go and detaching from things" to prepare to die (you never know) should I have a ceremony and burn adult writing that may be very personal or intimate. Maybe it's something my grown children should never know about me and how I felt at times? And opinions?

No! don’t burn them,
when you’re older then Leonard you might delight in them and the memories they bring in the same way that you do in the ones posted.

… wait ...
maybe burn the ones that have been waiting to be burned.

Things that don't hold any warmth for you or anything left for you to learn from. Things that needed to written down so that you could let go of them, might want to really be let go of now.

Maybe throw in a couple of secrets into the fire.
Ones you want to keep close to you, keep just for you. Be greedy with anything that is 'just for you', they're treasures. Dar do you paint?
Idea, burn what you know wants to be burned and then make ink from the ashes (or blend them into paint) and keep in a different way.

[lizzytysh]

Ha! Leave it to Cate to come up with a really creative alternative. I still vote for keeping them all, though. You may not have anything still to learn from something, but an heir or descendant may have plenty... and it may arrive in their life at exactly the right time. Not many people keep true journals and other records of their lives, so those of you who do, you bring so much to those who haven't and to those who likely won't [in our world now and yet to come]. These will afford insights into who you are, for ones who may never have even met you. Unless a secret would bring shame, I still vote for leaving those intact, too... such inner parts of ourselves are so rarely accessible. These provide that path. Hope to hear you eventually decide to just put them in someplace safe. If it comes to getting rid of things, if it comes to the set of china or your writings, pitch the china.

[Geoffrey]

dar, these poems are very good - really rather excellent! "like a piece of cheese gnawed by every mouse in town" / "birth to the inconceivable" - etc. my response can be summed up in two words: more please!

[lizzytysh]

Agree on the lines Geoffrey singled out, too.
These poems come from inside you, your mind, your heart, you life in a way that photos or things never could.
Don't do away with the photos, either, though. They are so very precious, too.

[dar]

Thanks for the responses friends. And, Lizzie, you are too kind. You put such thought into a response. I'll take it to heart.

It's strange to see this stuff from when I was so young. It brings back memories. But, as you point out Cate, perhaps some of this stuff should be put to rest permanently. I'm rarely nostalgic and do not grieve for the "young me" who showed potential as a poet and/or writer. I spent a lifetime trying to hide my outsider side in order to fit into society and just be "normal" but that certainly never worked. So many destructive relationships, failed marriages, financial struggles, blah, blah, pretty much did in my ability to pursue a life in art. I spent so much time trying to be loved I never realized I was lovable. A little too late to figure that out.

OK. Bucket list or not, I may just finish something I started a million years ago. We'll see. (Unless I find a handsome man to distract me like I've always done...just joking. I've lived alone for the past 7 years. So I'm doing good learning to be just me.

Thanks again for the sweet acceptance.

[dar]

O, geez. I just found part of a poem from this poetry festival ([Poetry reading in Bisbee, Arizona, August 25, 1979) Lawrence Ferlinghetti; Drummond Hadley; Allen De Loach) where I actually got up at open mike and read a poem. I was 26, a struggling single mother who had hired a babysitter for a night out and thought I'd just hop up on that stage after Ferlinghetti. O, geez, again! I recited this poem that started: "Fuck You! I wish I could. Give it to you like it got to me. Poetry. Raped me. Kicked me in the gut repeatedly...and the poem had more attempts at shock value. Here was this young woman, cussing up a storm and trying to be shocking. So funny to remember this. I even remember someone in the audience saying "At least she's got nice legs". I probably went home with "that guy" but I don't remember.

Now to find Ferlinghetti's autograph in here somewhere.

And that's the last story I'll share. Enough of me!

[lizzytysh]

Ah. Enough of you? We just got started, Dar! Never enough.
Actually, I like the first two lines of your poem there, too. That surprize twist to what appeared could possibly be just a rant.

I spent so much time trying to be loved I never realized I was lovable. A little too late to figure that out.

Such a CRUCIAL, INDISPENSABLE lesson... and these 'young' poems of yours make the point indelibly well.
Please DO take what I've said to heart, and hold on to them for your ancestors to read.
You may not be sentimental or long for the you that once was, yet they'll accomplish nothing in the ashes... and potentially a lot in the way of life lessons for other young girls AND boys.