I wander here and there of course. But invariably read your posts, as well as a number of political ones, poetry ones, personal ones, and "strange" offerings. They all interest me, some regularly, some erratically. Some I have no actual common link with, but still enjoy, places I've never seen, things not experienced. Satire amuses me, if well done. As does the commentary from those who failed to realise what it was. I accept my limitations imposed by old age, things I hoped to achieve, but won't. I still have anger and fury at the world's indifference to the suffering of others, and our lack of courage in standing up to wealth and power. I occasionally wonder if my holding on to pacifism that I signed up to at 16 is still entirely correct, or if there are boundaries that need breaching where non violent direct action is applied when I see the starving children dying in Gaza, and my government supplying weapons to Israel against so much opposition from the public. I don't fear dying, I have no faith in an afterlife. I have no wish for my life to be remembered beyond my living family - why should it be? I tried to do what I could, and went wrong like the rest of us of course. Then tried again, and who knows? In the 1950s we feared nuclear weapons. We now fear war again. The climate could kill us,if we aren't willing to change. There will always be some sort of threat. I hope our children's children will find answers,and include all the other children in the world, whatever their genders, colours, orientations, birthplaces, and any other variation. I believe we should forget about borders - they cause far more trouble than they solve.
Thank you for sharing this, Liz. The wisdom of experience, this especially: "There will always be some sort of threat. I hope our children's children will find answers,and include all the other children in the world, whatever their genders, colours, orientations, birthplaces, and any other variation. I believe we should forget about borders - they cause far more trouble than they solve."
I’m with you here on Substack to indulge in a writing community. A new age book club and writers’ circle combined. I enjoy philosophy, as it is perhaps at the heart of writing. But beyond that, well, let’s just say that time is precious and I choose to focus on what drives me: crafting language into fiction. Talking about the craft can be as helpful as actually exercising the craft (look at Poe and Hawthorne, for instance). But the end product is where the magic lies. I was drawn to your page by the title: until the light goes out. What poetry is that!
I wander here and there of course. But invariably read your posts, as well as a number of political ones, poetry ones, personal ones, and "strange" offerings. They all interest me, some regularly, some erratically. Some I have no actual common link with, but still enjoy, places I've never seen, things not experienced. Satire amuses me, if well done. As does the commentary from those who failed to realise what it was. I accept my limitations imposed by old age, things I hoped to achieve, but won't. I still have anger and fury at the world's indifference to the suffering of others, and our lack of courage in standing up to wealth and power. I occasionally wonder if my holding on to pacifism that I signed up to at 16 is still entirely correct, or if there are boundaries that need breaching where non violent direct action is applied when I see the starving children dying in Gaza, and my government supplying weapons to Israel against so much opposition from the public. I don't fear dying, I have no faith in an afterlife. I have no wish for my life to be remembered beyond my living family - why should it be? I tried to do what I could, and went wrong like the rest of us of course. Then tried again, and who knows? In the 1950s we feared nuclear weapons. We now fear war again. The climate could kill us,if we aren't willing to change. There will always be some sort of threat. I hope our children's children will find answers,and include all the other children in the world, whatever their genders, colours, orientations, birthplaces, and any other variation. I believe we should forget about borders - they cause far more trouble than they solve.
Thank you for sharing this, Liz. The wisdom of experience, this especially: "There will always be some sort of threat. I hope our children's children will find answers,and include all the other children in the world, whatever their genders, colours, orientations, birthplaces, and any other variation. I believe we should forget about borders - they cause far more trouble than they solve."
Thank you! I appreciate that.
I’m with you here on Substack to indulge in a writing community. A new age book club and writers’ circle combined. I enjoy philosophy, as it is perhaps at the heart of writing. But beyond that, well, let’s just say that time is precious and I choose to focus on what drives me: crafting language into fiction. Talking about the craft can be as helpful as actually exercising the craft (look at Poe and Hawthorne, for instance). But the end product is where the magic lies. I was drawn to your page by the title: until the light goes out. What poetry is that!
Thanks for making the time to reply, Brenda.