Green

...After the final no there comes a yes

And on that yes the future world depends.

No was the night. Yes is this present sun...

Maybe I'm lucky, to have been in love more than once. More than twice. Three times, in fact, and this final one "took" as they say...

But I was so young those first loves. Barely out of high school, where crushes were the currency, little affections in exchange for sideways glances and flittering attentions paid and lipstick reapplied a dozen times a day; a hand to forearm, quickly before the bell, blurred kiss stolen in dim doorway; the crushes were lovely but they weren't love.

The first I love you was seen not heard--a letter from an older man, the penstroke declaration sending an electric shock not unlike pain. I looked and blinked and looked again, and the words remained: I love you. That one could never be taken back, not even after it was.

The second I love you came from a boy, over the phone--his voice carrying clear across state lines, said then out loud and just one other time corporeal, though whispered, for he was not a brave boy.

I love you followed by the revoking of I love you.

Hard to believe now I cared so much for them, enough to respond in kind, and then to be hurt. I was young and green, so the words held only symbolic meaning and afterwards a certain bitter reckoning: I was loved, and then, suddenly, I was not loved. But in those early years, green, unworldly, I was not yet in possession of a tangible truth known so well to those who have been in love finally with the person they were meant, after all, to be in love with.

(for Sarge)

Note: the line is from a poem by Wallace Stevens, "Well Dressed Man with a Beard," and the I love you from my personal archives, a long-ago letter...

Do visit Theme Thursday for more posts on the excellent prompt "Green," and to add your own voice.

Hunter said...
Leah, this one is just great. And you're so right, there is a marked difference between the 'tangible truth' of real love and those awkward approximations that frequently proceed it.

March 3, 2010 10:38 AM


Leah said...
Thank you Hunter. It's a painful lesson, though isn't it strange how the pain recedes to nothing after awhile? When at the time it seemed so poignant?

Sometimes I shudder to think what would have happened if the early loves had lasted...ugh.

March 3, 2010 10:53 AM


Brian Miller said...
great post leah. i was young and green once myself, empty i love you's and then...the one. glad you found yours.

March 3, 2010 10:58 AM


Pat said...
I've been in love twice. Lucky for me the early love - which should have died after years of neglect - survived.

March 3, 2010 11:31 AM


Leah said...
Brian: thanks. I'm glad too. I will say that those early I love yous weren't exactly empty, just...young.

Pat: it's such a romantic story! The reconciliation with the true meant-to-be...

March 3, 2010 11:32 AM


otin said...
You have no idea how well this fits in with my life right now! This is a special post for me! Thank you!

March 3, 2010 12:02 PM


subby said...
Leah, in reading your comment to Hunter...I agree there, I do...someday the "one" may come along...but the past ones can stay well forgotten...

March 3, 2010 2:43 PM


Ponita in Real Life said...
So lovely that 'the one' that was meant to be came along and stuck.

I've loved several times but so far, only been truly and heartbreakingly "in love" once... and he was not. I died a thousand times when that ended, no matter how desperately he tried to lessen the hurt. And now, the memory of that love still occupies a tiny corner of my heart.

I am still waiting for 'the one' to come along too... And I remain ever hopeful.

March 3, 2010 3:34 PM


nick said...
A good way of describing it, the tangible truth of being genuinely in love. So clear when you experience it, so delusory when you haven't. Numerous times I thought I was in love with someone, but it was only when I met Jenny that I understood it was the real thing.

March 3, 2010 3:45 PM


Tom said...
i hope i never have to feel those old pains again. I prefer the comfortable lived in feel of love.

March 3, 2010 4:11 PM


Ronda Laveen said...
such a great association with "green." Love is such an ephemeral thing. Glad you found Sarge.

March 3, 2010 4:44 PM


Leah said...
otin: that pleases me to no end!

subby: I firmly believe that in the end the "one" always does come. But you're right, those past disasters should be left there in the past.

Ponita: what I said to subby, I do believe the One comes along eventually to everyone who wants it--I have an almost mystical belief in that. Your story is so poignant. Does writing about it ever help? Or is it best left hidden away? I guess that's different for everyone. When something is still painful, it can be hard to talk/write about it, no matter how much time has passed. Like any loss, really.

Nick: it's amazing how the real thing has a clarifying effect, like everything else is just washed away...

Tom: that is most beautifully said.

Ronda: funny how that was my association, rather than with spring, which I am longing for and obsessed with...

March 3, 2010 6:31 PM


Ponita in Real Life said...
Leah, I've written about it, in blogs since deleted, I've talked to close friends, and it all has helped. But I too believe, and truly do hope, that The One will still come into my life. I still give all of me when I find someone who seems like they might be that One. Sometimes I get hurt, sometimes it just fizzles.

And right now... there is a new beginning so I can't say whether this will be The One or not. Time will tell. I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out when I get around to writing about how things go. :-)

March 3, 2010 6:43 PM


Susan said...
When you are young and green you make mistakes as well as good choices. This was a very nice take on the theme. Mine is up too :)

March 3, 2010 8:08 PM


nanny said...
Very good TT.......I'm happy to finally have one "take" also!!!!!
I knew what I was looking for, just took years to find it!

March 3, 2010 9:04 PM


Megan said...
Excellent way to take this one, Leah! I try not to read any of the TT posts before mine is written, but had to make an exception for you.

I'm on the lookout for my third and final. Nil desperandum!

March 3, 2010 10:18 PM


willow said...
Your posts never fail to delight, Leah. Your writing is excellent and your subject always connects. Love Wallace Stevens. He's one of my faves.

March 3, 2010 10:32 PM


C.M. Jackson said...
leah--I was amazed at your ability to describe each love so clearly. It says to me the love you have today is incredibly pure and rare and also that you are incredible in your ability to see it amongst the day to day--no longer green but true blue-great post!

March 3, 2010 11:30 PM


kylie said...
this is lovely, leah.

as for me, neither of my great loves have ever said it to me.

one day........

March 4, 2010 2:26 AM


Kris said...
It is said that green is the most restful colour for the human eye.

March 4, 2010 3:19 AM


mapstew said...
Love's been good to me. :¬)

xxx

March 4, 2010 5:54 AM


Mrsupole said...
It is so true, that one can have or think they are in love before the one comes along. Then you just know. Maybe you have to go through the others to get to the one.

So glad you found Sarge, to have your soulmate is totally awesome.

Great TT.

God bless.

March 4, 2010 8:28 AM


Karen ^..^ said...
Beautiful.

I've had more of the I love you/Now I don't love you's than I'd like to admit.

Now I'm solo, and pretty sure I'll keep it that way. I just can't continue to feel that disappointment.

I'm so glad your final one stuck, and hope that in my next life, I can find something like that to hold on to for life.

Beautifully written, as always.

March 4, 2010 8:44 AM


Ziva said...
This was a truly wonderful read. So true and so honest. I've had my share of I love you's, said so many times without thought that they stopped meaning anything. But luckily now the I love you's are only said with true feeling.

March 4, 2010 10:15 AM


Betsy said...
That Sarge is a lucky man...but I'm sure he already knows that! ♥

March 4, 2010 10:53 AM


LadyCat said...
This is lovely! True love is well worth the wait. I didn't meet mine until I was 56. Life is grand!

March 4, 2010 12:39 PM


Baino said...
Nice to see you back Leah. Ah young love. Green indeed, green with jealousy and envy . . I think we have three true loves in our lives, our first love, our great love and our last love . . .the rest are gravy.

March 4, 2010 2:30 PM


Tracey said...
Sarge is a lucky fellow.

March 4, 2010 3:37 PM


tony said...
A Sad Truth about Youth.but better to be young& green than black or beige.Happy T.T.Leah.

March 4, 2010 4:03 PM


Magpie said...
I don't know...is it better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all? Yes, I have to think it is. Hopefully, we grow and learn each time love comes and goes. Glad your love has stayed. Beautifully written.

March 4, 2010 6:25 PM


Dreamhaven said...
How green we all were at first love. Happy TT

March 4, 2010 9:07 PM


Scarlet Blue said...
...and those crushes were painful. Maybe that's what 'a crush' really means.
Sx

March 5, 2010 8:02 AM


Jimmy Bastard said...
It's a big thumbs up from me Princess..

March 5, 2010 4:20 PM


Leah said...
Ponita: I'm a big fan of giving your all. That's what gets you there in the end. And I'm glad to hear murmurings of a new beginning!

Susan: I guess you really do need the mistakes to understand the successes...

Nanny: yay for the ones that took! I had a busy late adolescence, but then met my One in college. Twenty years together now!

Megan: third and final, I like that. Yes, nil desperandum.

Willow: thank you !!!! Yes, Wallace Stevens--sometimes impenetrable, always wonderful.

C: I LOVE "no longer green but true blue"!

Kylie: wait, you have current great loves waiting in the wings? That has to be one of the most intriguing comments I've ever read...someday I hope to know the story...

Kris: I do think it depends on the shade!

March 5, 2010 10:04 PM


Leah said...
map: big smile. It's lovely, ain't it.

MrsU: I do think you have to pay the pain dues to get to the real thing...but maybe that's me just over-romanticizing? I don't know...

Karen: the disappointment can be truly agonizing...but especially when it's fresh. Maybe when the wound is closed a little it's possible to get back in...but life can also be so incredibly rich and beautiful with kids and a career and all the other things it has to offer too. That's my other real belief.

Ziva: so glad you stopped by! Thank you for the thoughtful comment.

Betsy: I tell him so all the time! ; )

LadyCat: yes, as you say, there's no statute of limitations on a soulmate!

Baino: that's interesting...our first, our great, our last. I'll have to think about that!

Tracey: that's sweet! And as I said to Betsy--I like to remind him of it!

Tony: ah yes, youth is so difficult and stupid, lol!

Magpie:"we grow and learn each time love comes and goes"...I really like that.

Dreamhaven: yes, we all were. It is most definitely a universal!

Scarlet: they could be quite painful. Like a too-hard full-body squeeze!

Jimmy: thank you sweetie.

March 5, 2010 10:15 PM


kylie said...
ha! you got me between the eyes there!
i have a couple of great loves, they are still great loves but they arent waiting.

when i said one day i wasnt neccessarily thinking of either of them, just someone someday

March 5, 2010 11:04 PM


Leah said...
Ohhhhhh.....I do see...but I'm always one for a dramatic romance even if I have to make it up.....

March 5, 2010 11:18 PM


JeffScape said...
You ever seen A Bronx Tale? Reminds me of the speech about "three great ones."

;)

March 6, 2010 1:25 AM


California Girl said...
Leah, your writing in this post is extraordinary. You capture the feelings so delicately. Beautiful!

March 7, 2010 10:52 PM


novemberbaby said...
wow! nice.

March 11, 2010 9:08 AM

My Only Weakness is a Listed Crime

...my only weakness is...well, never mind

I've always wanted to be able to say that truthfully and now I can.

Indeed, much to my surprise, I like that. I mean, I really really like it.

That's not the depth of my depravity though. The bottom of darkness is that...

I can think of Severus with Remus as we engage. It's the closest I'll ever get to boys together, and me as a boy. Would I be Remus? No, I think I'd be Severus. Sarge would be Remus. But I'll never tell that to Sarge. I don't think he likes the Potions Master like that.

Sexy Minotaur for MJ

Note if you will the hooked heel, the muscular thighs. The sword.

Another Contest

This blog has too long been fallow.  I have many things to post here, but have temporarily lost my nerve.  So I'm going to kick its renaissance off with another contest...

The prize: an amigurumi of your choice.  If you win, you can assign me to create a crocheted stuffed toy in any shape you desire.  Perhaps you would like a kitty.  Perhaps a donut.  Or perhaps something a bit more...NC17.  Let's see what I can come up with.  The sky's the limit!

But this one is not by random drawing, and I'm going to make you work for it! In your comment, please suggest a new object of fetish for me--I've been fetishizing Victorian frock coats, buttons, fingers, fan art, and gloves.  I need some new material.  The suggestion I like the most wins.

There you have it.  Don't be shy!

Let's Have a Ball Girl

Noon, bedroom floor, everyone gone but us, window open against the law of the house, strong Texas sunlight through the sheer curtains, birds in the tree outside busy with nests and hot-weather insects hissing...

Our daughter had that morning broken a cascarones on her father's head, and when he bent close I could see how the confetti brightened his sparrow-brown hair, and when he was over me, fell all around my head and on my closed eyelids in a soft, sweet paper rain.

How long it had been since we were together like this, on a floor, in midday sun, warm and happy and then shivering, thrilled...

The Penis Book: A Report

I've had this glossy, compelling little tome since last year, when I won it in a contest over at MJ's place. How did I win it? I cleverly identified a photo of a very very nice well-groomed and appealing appendage belonging to...well, in the interests of propriety I won't say to whom it belonged, but anyway, I guessed correctly. I don't know how; I just had a feeling about it, a mystical connection, if you will, to this disembodied penis. I was proud to what some might call an unseemly degree; I think it was one of my finest moments of womanly intuition. And who knew then what I know now: the brave and possibly exhibitionistic owner turned out to be a charming friend indeed...

But enough about that, let's take a peek at the book.

By Joseph Cohen, who has a good sense of humor. It's a motley collection of anecdotes, slang, history, and pictures. Here are some highlights:

Funny: Landon, a random interviewee, discussing his penis named Perky: "Perky could definitely use some extra girth. I'd like it to be more of a handful when I grab it, like a Sicilian dockworker's, even though I'm Jewish."

Very funny: masturbation euphemisms, including "shaking hands with the governor" and "roughing up the suspect."

Gross: discussion of "schmegma." Simply put, no. I skipped this section.

Very gross: ingredients, caloric and protein content of ejaculate. I'll swallow it, but as with Cheetos, I don't want to know what's in it.

Smarmy--a quote from the perenially sappy fave, "Lady Chatterley's Lover": "and now he's tiny, and soft like a little bud of life!" That book is dreck, and probably shouldn't ever be quoted. Even as a teenager, I recognized how Constance emasculated her gardener. This had no place in The Penis Book. Plus, the editor didn't catch the misspelling of "Chatterley."

Subjective: the section entitled "guaranteed turn-ons." Includes "letting the neighbors watch you in action" (no), "the thrill of an affair" (hell no), "the sound of a wailing saxophone" (fuck no), "a slap across the ass" (yes), "a kiss that never ends" (never?! what about when it's dinnertime?), "your lover shampooing your hair" (sure!)...you get the point.

Beautiful? Maybe: the a-ma-zing penis tattoos. Wow.

Anyway, I recommend this book as great fun for an evening. But if you have children it definitely needs to go up on the top shelf with the R. Crumb, the Tijuana Bibles, and any other dubious adult fare...

And after a thorough perusal, I was left with a greater question: do I like penises anyway? I mean, do I really, objectively, like them?

I have concluded that I have mixed feelings. I love my own penis--I mean the one that I have access to at home. But it's sort of a devil-you-know affection...

the boys i mean are not refined

the boys i mean are not refined
they go with girls who buck and bite
they do not give a fuck for luck
they hump them thirteen times a night

one hangs a hat upon her tit
one carves a cross on her behind
they do not give a shit for wit
the boys i mean are not refined

they come with girls who bite and buck
who cannot read and cannot write
who laugh like they would fall apart
and masturbate with dynamite

the boys i mean are not refined
they cannot chat of that and this
they do not give a fart for art
they kill like you would take a piss

they speak whatever's on their mind
they do whatever's in their pants
the boys i mean are not refined
they shake the mountains when they dance

--e.e. cummings

Beyond the artifice of literary sadism, which I love in theory and imaginings, and the saccharine and unrealistic act of making love (who really does that? that expression has always given me the willies, with all the resemblance it doesn't bear to anything fun, I don't think I've ever uttered those words out loud, either as invitation or description of what we've done together, I consider it as reprehensible as the word "panties," but I digress) is my true feeling about sex and sexuality...

I've never "studied" this poem in an academic setting, and had not even read it until Sarge showed it to me a few years ago, although I love e.e. cummings. That Sarge, always full of surprises...

I'm not sure of the context to this poem, except that what immediately came to mind was an image of WW I soldiers on leave, exercising a rough, frantic joie de vivre. May I note that their ladies are no shrinking violets either.

All this is just coming to the point that the poem is for me intensely evocative in strange combination: poignant and nostalgic, as I love and have hero worship for soldiers both vintage and modern, and also perfectly capturing what sex is, in the end, all about--leaving pretension and artifice behind, liberated, not giving a shit, shaking the mountains.

For me, at least.



photo: drinking lemonade with some girls (who bite and buck?)