Dedicated to the inventor of the diarized poetics form, Fred of Poetical Psyche (see the post explaining the form here http://poeticalpsyche.blogspot.com/2011/08/diarized-poetry.html)
Chinese artist Wang Qian Peony Yuan Dynasty 1271-1368
October 29, 2011. Up before the sun to snow on the ground (it’s below freezing here at 10,000 feet). I reach for the laptop, instinctively, as it’s become an extension of my mind: axons traversing the wide world, its tendrils reaching out. I check the site stats for Chromapoesy: 6,467 visits since I started four months ago, 2,427 comments and I think about all the years I went without one reader or shred of feedback. Now that I quantify my bounty, does this make me greedy?
I trudge downstairs to make my whey protein breakfast; it is Saturday so I put orange dark chocolate chip sherbet in it. Wow, someone needs to clean the refrigerator! I make a mental note to organize and scrub it out today. Light will soon hit the tops of the bare aspens. I proffer a treat to my dog, Jody, still my baby girl though she’s 11. Kissing her head with a deep well of love I push aside the fact that she has cancer. Passing by the piano I see the ashes of Buddy, sweet boy who died in May, I cry again, take a deep compassionate breath, and remind myself I’m still grieving. Funny, that sentence has enough commas for Jane Austen.
Back at the computer I read Political Psyche and look for archived gems. Everyone’s in a Halloween mood. I’ve read about murder and mayhem for more than two weeks: vampires, werewolves, and incubus dreams. His cherub piece is certainly original and disturbing. I remember to click the like button for the poem with the sensuous eye-lid flittingly gorgeous word inquilinity. Then I stumble upon the post Diarized Poetry a form Fred’s invented and decide to try something new. Apologies to Fred if I butcher it in my first attempt but there has to be a first to be a second and so on.
Remembering my poetry notes about calyx I do a Google search to arrive at Calyx of Held (which sounds to me incredibly epic and poetic). I read multiple research articles on it and am transfixed by science’s inspiration. Unique one-to-one connection in auditory ventral brainstem (I get tears on my scarlet moleskin notebook, yes I’m still crying over my dog). Pray, wonder if there’s a God that embraces every living thing or if in this cold distant universe we’re simply fodder in a circle of life which makes me think about the things I do for love, seeing the Lion King in 3D with my mentee and her sister. What a massive headache that gave me though I reminisce how earlier in the day she agreed to speak at the fundraising tea at the Brown Palace. I bought her a dress for the occasion. She told me she loved me, out loud and to my face, there at the Colorado Mills mall while her sister chimed in.
I’m thinking about peonies, the Chinese symbolism, medicinal purposes, art, beauty, and can almost conjure their smell. I dry the tears still falling for my dog. The Calyx of Held connects the globular bushy cells of anteroventral cochlear nucleus and the principal cells of the medial nucleus of the trapezoidal body (MNTB) in the brainstem. I ponder, download pictures, read more about its nascent development, and investigate short-term plasticity. Plasticity is such a marvelous concept/word in Biology. Neuroscience is still illuminating the plasticity of the brain, we never knew how plastic, and magnificent it truly is. I think about poetry comments and The Invisible Gorilla, what bookshelf is that in? By the wood-burning stove and the swiveling reading chair? I’d look down from the twenty-foot balcony but it creates a shock that travels from my head to nether regions with simply the thought. Guess that phobia isn’t going to retreat. Momentary flash of the hot air balloon ride over the Valley of Kings and the Nile (did I move during that whole tortuous hour)?
Can I combine the Calyx of Held and peonies, the rambling of my mind, into engaging poetry? I read Fred’s examples and remind myself I can always rewrite or skip the prompt (based on the clues I think it’s on conversation). If I don’t try and fail I never get anywhere. One of the reasons I write so much experimental poetry. I find a pile of cryptic notes (never a surprise) that has the phrase ‘a state of profound abstraction’ and the definition of nepenthe (so beautiful I need to find a way to incorporate it into poetry, it means forgetfulness of sorrow or something that causes forgetfulness). Thoughts flood too fast to write clearly: the Death Enters the Rooms and Deep Grief sections of my epic Mere Beasts; the death grimace of my beloved dog, Buddy (foreshadowing the one that is coming); Joy’s Poe poem about his dead wife (I must look up the name and write it down, another cryptic note to decipher later); symbolism; Ophelia floating in the river; and finally, focus and reread Fred’s notes.
Rereading the post to refocus I admire his voice and style. I begin to see how to make this into poetry. My attention is called away again to the tracks in the meadow; I take in the sun now flooding the forest with light.
How honest do I need to be? Probably I need to be as honest with you as I’m willing to be with myself. I’ve always been entranced by the romance of what goes unsaid. Who was it that said they wanted to remain a mystery to themselves? Right, Mad King George, no, the other one, Mad King Ludwig, ‘I wish to remain an eternal enigma to myself and to others …’ Yet the vulnerability of art has to be mutual if the artist & the viewer are to be transformed (as I discussed in my post about it on Chromalexicon). I remind myself to be receptive.
Shit, that essay for the blog about Socialist Realism, inspired by The Color of Pomegranates, the film by Sergei Parajanov, is finished but for the final edit! The painting on the easel, in the vein of Torn is likely ready for another layer but I have to figure out where I’m going with these glazes first. It’s a new and intriguing direction and that always takes longer. The Requiem for the Unsung I’m composing will lose its way if I don’t return to it again very soon. The gorgeous sounds of David Lang’s Requiem for the Little Match Girl are ringing in my head (but damn that computer fan is loud). Will I ever finish those screenplays? What are all the things I’ll leave unfinished in my life?
Ok, but now I’m supposed to write a short reflective poem as instructed. I laugh aloud as I see the scene from Sherlock: A Study in Pink where Sherlock’s brother says to Dr. Watson: (Laughing) ‘Yes, the bravery of the soldier, bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity don’t you think?’ And I must ask myself: Is my writing courageous?
I am in love with the world
engagement acts as a nepenthe
as the landscape floods with light
my thoughts churn and spill over
from pencil to page I’m quiet now
yet do not allow myself fantasy
as if the thoughts send signals
of intention into the world
jumbled in a sea of interconnection
peonies bloom in recesses of imagination
raindrops gathering on nectar drenched buds
their scent, merely incanted in my mind intoxicates
potent stimulus, enough to induce vistas of flourishing
desires full of sensual and intellectual pleasures
Calyx of Held, largest synapse in the mind
nerve terminals moment by moment
receive paeans to a eudaimon life
direct one-to-one connections
co-existing in osculant bliss
yet in the external world
I am entranced by intrigue
by what remains unsaid
Chromapoetica 
This poem has a flowing rhythm that takes me along as on a gentle wind. I Particularly like this phrase:
“jumbled in a sea of interconnection
peonies bloom in recesses of imagination
raindrops gathering on nectar drenched buds”
Don’t know about experimental poetry. This is good, whatever you call it.
Namaste……….cj
Thank you, I don’t know much about this form either, it’s my first attempt :).
This is fascinating. Yes, your writing is courageous. At least, I think so.
Thanks Mama Zen, though in the context of this poem courage is potentially equivalent to or the same as stupidity ;). However, we used to joke when I ran a nonprofit that only an insane person would run a nonprofit. I am a poet that owns a small business publishing poets, an artist running a gallery, and a composer with an independent record label so, oh dear…hahaha… Seriously, thank you for calling my writing courageous, it’s terribly kind of you to say. So lovely to see you here :)!
I agree with Mama Zen. Your writing is courageous, as is your experimentations. The poem matches the diary posting. It expresses that hunger to explore through every sense, and that love for new experiences through the exploration. Thanks for the glimpse into your thought process.
I remember Fred’s post about this form he thought of, but myself, had no habit of dwelling too much on my own thoughts to do a diary post these days. I’ll get too self absorb and results in something horribly depressing! Courage would flee. 😀 I thought of using an old one but it just doesnt really work to try to recapture a feeling already gone from entries that are of years ago. (If I recall correctly, he suspected this.)
Nice job on this one.
Thank you Ravenblack, yes, a hunger for exploration is a great way to put it and glad a glimpse into my thought process didn’t send you running. This was very challenging to me, I cut out most of what went on in the morning to avoid clutter and still felt like I was showing up to my blog in my pajamas. I’m glad you’d read the post about the form, hopefully Fred will find it worthy of a first attempt. Oh, I’m sorry to hear your diary post would be horribly depressing; I guess mine was weepy but I wanted to be honest. I hope things improve soon. Thanks again for your insightful comment. It’s always a pleasure to talk with you :).
dogs are very special people. the lucy i use as a pseudonym was canine. she is still very real for me. 17 years was a good partnership. we explored northern territory cattle stations, lived in wagga wagga and toowoomba as well as different places in adelaide. often if we were on an adventure the cafe owners would serve her water first. she also had a succession list of godparents who wanted some of her time. i was lucky to be her friend. =)
i think the company of dogs is somehow very humanising. humbling. sincere. i can empathise very much with time shared with a furry friend who is short on time and big on presence.
*hug*
What a fantastic story with awesome place names Janet. My cousin has a marvelous dog named Lucy. 17 years is a wonderful time to have such a great friend! Thank you for the hug and hugs back :).
Anna… what a gorgeous start you’ve just given to my day… a gift to hear your mind open to life and to understand some of your creative journeys. I often wonder where all your ideas seed and germinate… lovely to see that process this morning…
Beautiful poem by the way… Calyx of Held… enormous.. that entire stanza sings.
.. a friend of mine lost his dog this year and has found the grieving slow and painful.. he paints and writes too and has found his way back circuitously through those channels.. wishing you a good, good day…
Thank you Becky, this is such a kind comment. I have many processes but sometimes it all begins by falling in love with words like Calyx of Held. It’s wonderful when I can surprise you. Hope you also have a lovely day!
Missed this yesterday, as I felt I just had to get away from the computer for at least one of the beautiful autumn afternoons we’ve been having…your journal entry is very immediate, and your poem reflects it and beyond it, into the thoughts beneath the words. I wrote a journal for almost forty years daily and it was a very useful tool, a friend in need for my confusion, and many times the only writing I did, but it palls on me any more; as Ravenblack says, ultimately it was depressing to see the too well-traveled ruts of thought deepening each day.
And I still cry for my dog dead seven years now–he was that good. Your writing is always courageous Anna, as is your spirit, which shines through it and refuses to give up. The poem is simple and heartfelt, and the language luminous. I like Fred’s form concept as displayed here–now I’m going to have to go to his site and see his version. Thanks for sharing your morning with us.
(Oh, and the Poe poem is called Ulalume.)
Right, possibly from the Latin ulalare (lament), thank you! Yes, the dialogue the narrator has is with Psyche, it’s all flooding back now. Oh, I’m sorry about your dog. I have cried for my dog Angel who was taken from me at 7 so I can see that it’s likely I won’t ever completely heal the pain. Partly it’s that I know another loss is coming.
I appreciate especially your gentle and lovely comment about my spirit shining through. You are a true gift in my life.
I am running out the door but I am really looking forward to your Halloween poem.
Anna,
This may be a bit long, not quite sure yet…guess it all depends upon how succinctly I can get what I’d like to say out.
First. As to the form:
The form is meant to be a tool, as in the way a diary is. The entry is placed, as you would normally write, but there’s no rules per se. You just write what you want in this section. But the more honest you are, the more should be available for you, in terms of benefits.
After the entry is done, you then work into an abstract. Typically poetry is the means for this section. What it does, at least what I’ve found it does, is mesh two ways of observation, your feelings as they come to you during internal communication with yourself, and then the abstract-symbol’s work great in this respect. The two styles together act somewhat like a vice-grip, squeezing the meaning out from each side. What that meaning is, well only the author can truly know.
The kicker is that sometimes you’ll instantly receive a sense of enlightenment, but most times you’ll find it’ll be one of those things where you’ll gain the sense when not prepared or expecting it to come. I’ve found that I’ll go back and reread old entries, after I’ve been removed from the piece for a bit of time, kind of like what’s typically recommended for the rewriting process, remove yourself and then return, where fresh eyes will rule the day-that was a butchering of the quote but it’s on the same lines there. So when you do return, hopefully something will spark. That’s the intention anyway.
For your piece, you hit every portion of what the piece has to offer, truly putting yourself in a great position for that internal benefit or wisdom etc… that I feel the form really offers the user.
I’m not going to go bit by bit through the work, as this form is not meant for breaking it down, or as an outsider looking in, trying to find meaning themselves, all though, when observing others closely, meaning is often found as well. Just an aside there, but moving on:
I loved the purity in your writing. If you fabricated anything in the write, which again completely fine if the writer chooses to operate that way, I saw nothing but soul bared to page. This openness is where and how the meaning has its best opportunity for internal exploration and reflection. You wrote with your own voice, spoke of the incredibly personal, and I’m sure many will find pieces that they’ll resonate upon, which again, of course is a side effect, and not what we should cater our entries to. Your loss of your pet, I can, as I’m sure many others can relate to. but in this section here, you wrote a parenthetical that showed, at least to me, that the form was already working while still in-composition. It’s subtle, but speaks volumes. You mentioned the foreshadowing of your previous loss to the age of your current pet. As I said it was subtle- but it showed the freedom and openness of the form was already working for you.
Your descriptions of routine, environment etc.. are a base that firmly entrench yourself into the piece. Now obviously you’re in the piece and will always be, but when you return to this piece or any future pieces you write, while not a necessity, placing the additional details into your entries will certainly provide a reference point for your future self, and it’ll be a memory that will fly off the page, partly because of all the additives you’ve provided your future self to clue into. I write like this myself in my own journals, partly because i find myself storing only key pieces of information and typically forget the corresponding details. For example: Musically I’ll know I enjoy a certain band, could be a favorite band, but if you’d ask me a few songs-I’d probably have a difficult time picking any song out. But if that song were playing I might know all the words, yet not the title. If that makes any sense. But that’s how I write, trying to color things in as much as possible for myself later on. You’re telling yourself a story in essence.
Anyhow I warned you this might be a bit long:)
I love the Courage:stupidity comparison, never thought of it that way-but it does fit extremely well. So I won’t say you were courageous, I’ll say what I’ve already said, that you allowed yourself to be truly open to the process of cataloging, as you would in a diary:)
As for the abstract I think you did a great job of composing something that should be that other piece of framework that can help you look at your entry in an alternate light, theoretically assisting you later on however it may. I also noticed you fit in the osculant- Know you love that word. But that’s what that abstract piece has to offer, if you can throw in triggers, that tie back directly into yourself, could be just a word, that should help you later on as well.
Anyhow, great job, very honored you used the form and did it so well. But the true and only possible person to know how you did, which is completely alternate to my normal philosophy on poetry itself, is you. You’re the one that will benefit, or should anyhow, from your own Diarized poetry.
I’ve yet to get myself the “courage” to share any of my own Diarized Poetic entries, although I do have a rather large journal of them- but this, although it may sound a bit yellow of me, is another aspect of the form-it’s about comfort and what the writer is comfortable in writing and sharing-you should always be comfortable when writing to yourself, and if your comfortable to share with others, great and you may gain a little something extra by putting it out there, but it’s primarily an internal device, form, whatnot.
This comfort factor is huge. If you’re not, then honesty will suffer, and the likelihood of benefiting decreases as well. And the reader, when shared, can tell if the author is being true to themselves.
Caveat: What I’ve mentioned is the purest model for the form’s purpose. It can be used without the personal or honest aspects, and still work but in a different way. The intention is for how I’ve explained, which you seemed to do a marvelous job opening yourself to that style of embrace:)
Thanks again.
Wow, I feel I need to write a response as helpful and complete as your comment (unlikely :)). I’ve been away from home so I apologize for the delay. I deeply appreciate your points of clarification, especially how the entry and the abstract entwine to help me find meaning. I did have a pile of interesting responses in my mind to it once I’d put it out there (without that rewriting process). As an artist, writer, performer, etc. I find I process work for consumption by others in a way I don’t for myself. With my art there are usually several months and multiple critiques of paintings prior to ‘defending’ them so to speak in the public space of a gallery wall. As an intensely private person I have to fight that internal battle to show the work (I do actually want to communicate). In order to make good work I find I have to have that ‘purity’ and honesty in even my fiction. However, there isn’t any fiction contained here so it’s probably why I felt so vulnerable. You bring up interesting ideas about what the reader brings to meaning but I see how this form is intended to provide internal benefit and enlightenment.
I write everyday but it’s largely been for public consumption lately and I see now the benefits of taking up the practice of diarized poetics to reconnect with myself. I don’t think I’ll be ‘courageous’ enough to post another on my blog anytime soon but I look forward to adopting the form in my daily writing practice. I have a visual journal I keep as a painter where I ‘say’ more personal things and am more experimental. It helps me work out problems I’m encountering in the work and understand my motivations, limitations, and attractions better. In music I guess that happens in practice where while I may be working on opera for performance I sing a folk song for personal enjoyment.
The depth and breadth of what’s available to me as a writer could be expanded through this form. I greatly appreciate its lack of rules as I have enough internal boundaries I don’t always enjoy their imposition through form. Part of why I’m a nonrepresentational painter and experimental music composer I suppose. When I work in form I try to find ways to claim it and stretch it. Your form invention is more like a custom tailored outfit and I like it all the more for that. Thank you again for your time, extremely useful feedback and clarifications. I suppose we all start by telling ourselves stories and then we decide which of those stories we share with others. Now I’ll have a better road map of my journey and some wonderful triggers to evoke memories with. Thank you for that gift.
Really wonderful reply. I agree with everything you stated here. A few keys:
Internal battle- I started writing when I was still in HS, but I hate rejection with a passion, and up until this past year, I never shared my writing with anyone, outside of those times I had to, classwork, eulogies etc… There has to be a point where you grow comfortable enough with yourself and your work that it makes not a difference as to what opinions flow your way, yet that said, knowledgeable opinions can assist. Different conversation though.
You mentioned a difference when writing for public consumption. This notion is sometimes unnoticed, but so important to understand. Glad you mentioned it.
The effect across media is interesting and sure, I totally get it and can see that as well. Visual journaling sounds cool, must be in symbols- perhaps I’m wrong- but I live in a world of symbols- “don’t tell anyone, I may like them more than words”
I believe you’re absolutely correct in saying that understanding, I’ll just say, yourself, is a major key to extend your artistry to different levels. Great analogy to music.
I also believe that any writer that tells you that they’re content or have maxed out their growth potential are either mired in complacency, liars or simply unworthy of their gift. So yes I agree that improvement is always and will forever be a possibility, and I have to think that journalling has helped me, and my “form” is but an extension of journalling, so yes totally can see it helping in that way.
As for the form, I’m an odd bird, if there are no rules, I need them, so I self-impose, if there are rules I need to be free, so i break them. Anyhow, again that’s another discussion there. But in this way I thought the form being as open as it is, it allows the writer flexibility and adaptability to who they are, what they’re trying to accomplish or both.
I’m blushing to the fact you like it in such a way and have high hopes for it in your daily routine. That’s amazing. One more little personal anecdote for the road here: I strongly believe that no matter what you do in life, no matter who you are, where you live, what your strengths or limitations … are, your purpose should be to touch one person, or help etc.. then you’ve succeeded. Obviously the desire to help or touch as many as possible is inherent in all we do, or should be anyhow, just touching one aspect of one person’s life is divinity. At least for me it is. So with that all said, you can see why the blushing appears:)
Thanks.
Thank you very much for the gift of this writing tool, its adaptability and insights will be a welcome addition to my writing process. It’s great to talk about process as I so often don’t get the chance. I have no in person writing peers; I live in a tiny town and have had difficulties with writing groups in the past. Oh, I’ve been meaning to comment on A Vitreous Demeanor but I didn’t know how useful it would be to you as I keep thinking I know what the poem is saying and then get spun around. My inability to read it properly aside, the language is magnificent.
That is a beautiful description of divinity.
Oh, you’re welcome. I’ve never done a set writers group before, have spoken to a lot of writers, kinda had to in school and all, which was for some stimulating conversation but had tried collaborative screenwriting before a couple times but both bailed and one project is pretty much dead because that guys a jerk and still wants credit for the entirety even though he bailed, the other one I finished but it lacks what the other guy was bringing to the table, which was my whole point of collab with him in the first place. Anyhow….
Oh, thanks glad you enjoyed that piece…it’s probably about what you think it is, but moreover it’s a big game, the entire thing is one colossal play on words and a split image of itself, mired in countless allusion. It’s one of those pieces that you write for the fun of it, but don’t expect anyone to really spend the God knows how many hours it would take to crack it-lol Thank you though.
Glad you like my idea of the divine purpose. Been fun but it’s pas my bedtime-lol, no seriously-that’s so lame, but I take meds and they take their toll- hint: invisible days clue:) Good night though
Good night, thank you again.
hmmm..I first read this via email, and found myself just ‘listening’, it was lovely hearing your thoughts as you expressed; today I have visited Fred’s blog (love Fred!), and read about his form, and how very intriguing it all is: I think you did a wonderful job, and the ending on your poem, is perfection (‘nepenthe’ just too beautiful, one to note down for sure)
Yes, I want to use nepenthe again in a more complex piece but for now I was happy to put it to good use.
what fun my laptop decided to crash just as I noticed part of my comment read ambiguously, so to clarify, the whole piece ending on your poem was wonderful, and the poem itself was perfection..since i am adding more words! I shall just add: ‘Yes!’ I believe your writing is courageous…
Thank you immensely K-a!
smiles….i grew up with a pups as my best friend…i named him hobo…after his passing they gave me a stuffed animal that looked like him but….your thought process in the creation of this is very cool anna…you def write some of the most complex linguistical pieces i read so seeing the behind the scenes is pretty cool….
Aww, hobo is a great name for a best friend. I’m glad you enjoyed the behind the scenes look. The poem in this piece is a direct response to that morning but often my poetry spins out of stranger corners :). Thanks for reading!
wow…this was immensely interesting…thanks for allowing us a glimpse into your writing process…and courageous poetry…not easy to define i think…sometimes a poem is very courageous for ourselves and it may not be for someone else…think i will keep chewing on this for a while..thank you anna
Thanks Claudia, I agree with you about defining courageousness. In this particular piece I was using a new form to move past some of my own barriers, I have other processes that are much more ‘comfortable’ if that makes sense. Processes that don’t demand the same level of vulnerability or self-reflection. I think that it’s good to find so many different ways to express our poetry so that we don’t stagnate, whether the challenge comes from form, subject, or from revealing more about ourselves than we’re comfortable with. Though some of my best work (only IMHO) comes from the place I feel safest.
I enjoyed both the poem and your process notes, Anna. You have such a command of language and so many areas of knowledge. I appreciate the learning experience and when you annotate, it becomes even more meaningful.
Thanks Victoria, I haven’t been annotating as much as I should lately :). It does seem that readers take away more when I do. This ‘informal’ annotation is easier than my usual 30 footnotes!
You’ve done so much with this prompt, amazing story backdrop to the poem itself. You’ve brought us into your world of words and ideas where there’s a bit of the mad scientist feel to it all. We see the laboratory and the instruments and then the distillation of the essential factors results in this very intriguing form called a poem. It even wends with lines that are so potent and closemto my skin that I just have to clone them:
yet in the external world
I am entranced by intrigue
by what remains unsaid
Indeed what remains unsaid.
Thank you, I love the mad scientist reference! I felt this post was particularly well suited to the prompt so I’m glad you thought so too. It was difficult to post the first time and I wavered on linking it up. I appreciate the feedback, knowing that the poem resonates with you. I often work at making sure there isn’t too much of me in the work and room enough for the reader.
Fred’s diarized poetics made me instantly think of Dante’s Vita Nuova — thanks to you for making the clear connection — Your take on it was wonderful, first because it gave a glimse of one person’s working mind very similar to those “muse up skirt” photos of working spaces, just what sort of kitchen it takes to cook up the fantastical poems that get posted. You are truly an artistic omnivore, play chess in three dimension (I think I’ve observed that previously), love the fluid freedom of media that give full expression to art and heart at once. The journal entry was a great portal for that, and also I think shows the possibility and difficulty of getting all of that into a poem. Fortunately, there’s always another entry, another stop down the road, another Dantean sonnet as we embark once more on the mythic journey of song. Each one is a particular take on a dizzying whole. I think the particular entry for this poem is in the penultimate stanza with the Calyx of Held as the imaginative port or portal of entry to the rest. Thanks for a very rewarding read. – Brendan
Yes, those workspace photos were a similar exercise and so informative and fun. Thanks again for the 3-D chess reference as I was just using your description yesterday to explain to someone why I love the game Civilization Revolution. Thank heavens for the artistic journey so that everything doesn’t have to get smashed into one piece or even one art form. I’d need a particle accelerator for that trick! Thank you for your feedback, it’s always insightful and interesting.
I am in love with the world
engagement acts as a nepenthe
as the landscape floods with light
my thoughts churn and spill over
from pencil to page I’m quiet now
yet do not allow myself fantasy
as if the thoughts send signals
of intention into the world
The background to your poem was so interesting, so engaging. It was a snapshot of you, your life in that moment that you shared with us so clearly. It was amazing to feel your emotions, reflective, sad- and then reading the poem- it just melded all of these thoughts into one evocative, flowing piece. For me- the opening stanza above was just lovely- and summed up all those moments when we breathe in and exhale the beauty AND ugliness of the world.
Thank you, for some reason your comment ended up in spam, sorry about that. I appreciate your kind words and connection with the work.