Comments received on poems by aDarkerMind
This Turning World
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Teddy.
and a warm hello from a cold, wet and windy quay;
winters poetry nears!
hope you are well x
October 3rd, 2021 11:10
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Teddy.
and a warm hello from a cold, wet and windy quay;
winters poetry nears!
hope you are well x
October 3rd, 2021 11:10
And The Shepherd Layed Me Down
aDarkerMind said:
as kind as always Teddy x
warm hugs back;
September 29th, 2021 11:12
aDarkerMind said:
as kind as always Teddy x
warm hugs back;
September 29th, 2021 11:12
Goodbye Goodfellowed Architect
L. B. Mek said:
\'so sudden comes the flame of deep regret.
the self-expressed, the green sands
for nature\'s watch; this beast, we
seek to race the running tide
her waters wounds our gateway, to the cyprus moon.
too soon, to live forever in the asphalt dome? kiss,
then tell
how tall must towers climb;\'
(these words resonated with me, more than any of your other Brilliant work, previously shared)
I\'m not sure if there\'s any fallible \'Architect\', on Earth
deserving of such a dedication
but, whoever inspired these words to blossom within you
I thank them, for this memorable read of a gift
I have been privileged to \'second hand\': receive..
\'What a Talent\'!!!
thank you for choosing to share, dear Masterful Word\'smith\'...
September 27th, 2021 05:19
L. B. Mek said:
\'so sudden comes the flame of deep regret.
the self-expressed, the green sands
for nature\'s watch; this beast, we
seek to race the running tide
her waters wounds our gateway, to the cyprus moon.
too soon, to live forever in the asphalt dome? kiss,
then tell
how tall must towers climb;\'
(these words resonated with me, more than any of your other Brilliant work, previously shared)
I\'m not sure if there\'s any fallible \'Architect\', on Earth
deserving of such a dedication
but, whoever inspired these words to blossom within you
I thank them, for this memorable read of a gift
I have been privileged to \'second hand\': receive..
\'What a Talent\'!!!
thank you for choosing to share, dear Masterful Word\'smith\'...
September 27th, 2021 05:19
When Came The Carnivore
L. B. Mek said:
\'now we worship
feet of clay with our candles feathered,
lighting saffrons bride
for the married eyes of the dragons fruit,
our bibles bricks and mortar scrawls of rubble
as it crawls;\'
*ever-lamenting
when came, our carnivorous
recidivation
to a cyclical reality of ever-divisive: Hate,*
(our collective evolutionary, Fall
worded so poignantly Majestic
in your endlessly unique,
Transcendentally profound: searing Imagery)
these write just outright exemplifies, your sheer Wordsmith Brilliance!
\'What, a Talent\'!!!
thank you for choosing to share and inspire
September 23rd, 2021 04:24
L. B. Mek said:
\'now we worship
feet of clay with our candles feathered,
lighting saffrons bride
for the married eyes of the dragons fruit,
our bibles bricks and mortar scrawls of rubble
as it crawls;\'
*ever-lamenting
when came, our carnivorous
recidivation
to a cyclical reality of ever-divisive: Hate,*
(our collective evolutionary, Fall
worded so poignantly Majestic
in your endlessly unique,
Transcendentally profound: searing Imagery)
these write just outright exemplifies, your sheer Wordsmith Brilliance!
\'What, a Talent\'!!!
thank you for choosing to share and inspire
September 23rd, 2021 04:24
The Babble of the Brook
L. B. Mek said:
\'it is only in the loins of trusted colours,
can we trench barefoot the naked screams of oil;\'
Rage! Rage!
and let it all out
that\'s the only way, we
who choose to witness Reality
and not feign obliviousness,
can survive
and cultivate the fortitude
to still: enjoy
some semblance of a life...
(a great write, dear Poet
I think I wrote something, feebly attempting to resemble
what you\'ve crafted so raw and rightfully enraged, in this cathartic read of a poem)
thanks for sharing
September 21st, 2021 04:48
L. B. Mek said:
\'it is only in the loins of trusted colours,
can we trench barefoot the naked screams of oil;\'
Rage! Rage!
and let it all out
that\'s the only way, we
who choose to witness Reality
and not feign obliviousness,
can survive
and cultivate the fortitude
to still: enjoy
some semblance of a life...
(a great write, dear Poet
I think I wrote something, feebly attempting to resemble
what you\'ve crafted so raw and rightfully enraged, in this cathartic read of a poem)
thanks for sharing
September 21st, 2021 04:48
Sundays\' Muse.
L. B. Mek said:
Sometimes
we lose and can never replace
those most sacred gifts, of life
and after
everything, seems to dim
like someone messing with our reality\'s brightness, settings
and further, after
we\'re in front of a blank pixelated screen
and our fingers, dance
as-if we\'re playing piano keys for those,
who no longer have ears, in this world
who no longer hear, our cries of regret and longing
who, no longer have eyes
to see, the tears
that create puddles of our crimson wishing wells...
we no longer, have what we want most by our side
and so we let our fingers bash, those qwerty keys
and we try, to let it all out
because we know, we feel that dread
rising from deep inside, that if we cant find an avenue
to shed some of this weight, on our every breadth
soon, we\'ll drown
in all that ache, we harbour devotedly
just so we can feel, a connection
even, as its threatening
our very grip, to survival...
\'how I marvel every Sunday,
the weathers\' morning pages as they climb
a higher ground,
from the darkened depths of solitude
to the acid on my tongue;
it is here
my strings of symphony cuts\' glass a shade of wood,
in honour of deception
on the banners of the sun;
how many times I have cradled hearts
on my blanket hands,
as cold
as the Jack Frost vampire
teething, sandscripts\' salted hair;
I have no sea-horse
for the riding of Virginias\' long lost waves,
just one speck of blood on the blunt side
of the sword,
to carve her name on the landslide of my wrist;
to co-exist
with the phamptons\' of abyss!\'
(what a Talent!!!
you have been gifted, dear Poet)
September 20th, 2021 04:34
L. B. Mek said:
Sometimes
we lose and can never replace
those most sacred gifts, of life
and after
everything, seems to dim
like someone messing with our reality\'s brightness, settings
and further, after
we\'re in front of a blank pixelated screen
and our fingers, dance
as-if we\'re playing piano keys for those,
who no longer have ears, in this world
who no longer hear, our cries of regret and longing
who, no longer have eyes
to see, the tears
that create puddles of our crimson wishing wells...
we no longer, have what we want most by our side
and so we let our fingers bash, those qwerty keys
and we try, to let it all out
because we know, we feel that dread
rising from deep inside, that if we cant find an avenue
to shed some of this weight, on our every breadth
soon, we\'ll drown
in all that ache, we harbour devotedly
just so we can feel, a connection
even, as its threatening
our very grip, to survival...
\'how I marvel every Sunday,
the weathers\' morning pages as they climb
a higher ground,
from the darkened depths of solitude
to the acid on my tongue;
it is here
my strings of symphony cuts\' glass a shade of wood,
in honour of deception
on the banners of the sun;
how many times I have cradled hearts
on my blanket hands,
as cold
as the Jack Frost vampire
teething, sandscripts\' salted hair;
I have no sea-horse
for the riding of Virginias\' long lost waves,
just one speck of blood on the blunt side
of the sword,
to carve her name on the landslide of my wrist;
to co-exist
with the phamptons\' of abyss!\'
(what a Talent!!!
you have been gifted, dear Poet)
September 20th, 2021 04:34
When Once.....
L. B. Mek said:
poignant imagery, utilised
to its utmost potency!
\'what a Talent!\'
thanks for sharing, dear Poet
September 17th, 2021 03:51
L. B. Mek said:
poignant imagery, utilised
to its utmost potency!
\'what a Talent!\'
thanks for sharing, dear Poet
September 17th, 2021 03:51
Illusions Bite
L. B. Mek said:
good to let that Goth we all harbour, out
from time to time, if kept repressed
it will fester and poison every aspect of our lives..
strong imagery, \'aDarkerMind\': indeed...
\'what a Talent!\'
(and there\'s many a drunken poet, by London\'s bridges
its just that, for most
it takes them getting completely bladdered, before
they gain the freedom
to express themselves, without curating
their words and thought\'s, to be in-line
with the majority herd, they so desperately
feel the need, to belong to...)
September 14th, 2021 03:48
L. B. Mek said:
good to let that Goth we all harbour, out
from time to time, if kept repressed
it will fester and poison every aspect of our lives..
strong imagery, \'aDarkerMind\': indeed...
\'what a Talent!\'
(and there\'s many a drunken poet, by London\'s bridges
its just that, for most
it takes them getting completely bladdered, before
they gain the freedom
to express themselves, without curating
their words and thought\'s, to be in-line
with the majority herd, they so desperately
feel the need, to belong to...)
September 14th, 2021 03:48
From Hell to Boot of Mandolin
L. B. Mek said:
\'as rose of hyacinth
breaks bread with scarlet wings
as tortured mothers pray as midnight sings
of days\' end when the mourning so begins;\'
\'am just a snake in withered grass of manuscript
my name on bullets\' eye of vegetable
that eyes the ticking time-bomb on my marrowed root
still as yellow as the schoolboy in my brain\'
\'goodnight my midnight venice
the true love of my midnight serenade
my deserted halls of memory in the lighted shade
still picking flowers from the apples of my heart
it is now the grieving starts
when hell stops so the heavens start\'..
What a Triumph of wordsmith Artistry!
What a Dedication!
What a Supremely Talented Poet!!!
(I humbly, read and learn
ever-grateful, cherishing my luck
for having you grace, my poetic path
in life.
Thank you! for choosing to share your masterful talent, dear Poet!)
September 13th, 2021 04:46
L. B. Mek said:
\'as rose of hyacinth
breaks bread with scarlet wings
as tortured mothers pray as midnight sings
of days\' end when the mourning so begins;\'
\'am just a snake in withered grass of manuscript
my name on bullets\' eye of vegetable
that eyes the ticking time-bomb on my marrowed root
still as yellow as the schoolboy in my brain\'
\'goodnight my midnight venice
the true love of my midnight serenade
my deserted halls of memory in the lighted shade
still picking flowers from the apples of my heart
it is now the grieving starts
when hell stops so the heavens start\'..
What a Triumph of wordsmith Artistry!
What a Dedication!
What a Supremely Talented Poet!!!
(I humbly, read and learn
ever-grateful, cherishing my luck
for having you grace, my poetic path
in life.
Thank you! for choosing to share your masterful talent, dear Poet!)
September 13th, 2021 04:46
From Hell to Boot of Mandolin
aDarkerMind said:
thank you so much Teddy...
a slightly feeble attempt to love and houour those who lost their lives in 9/11;
I know my words mean nothing for those that grieve...
but if my life could bring back those who died and make this world a safer place,
I would die a happy man x
September 12th, 2021 08:37
aDarkerMind said:
thank you so much Teddy...
a slightly feeble attempt to love and houour those who lost their lives in 9/11;
I know my words mean nothing for those that grieve...
but if my life could bring back those who died and make this world a safer place,
I would die a happy man x
September 12th, 2021 08:37
Be Strong Disheveled Entity
L. B. Mek said:
:that fig tree of prosperity, winking
between moonlit slits
of nightmare smeared bed sheets,
I seek answers, dear universe!
Nietzsche, decried God\'s death a century ago
and yet here I walk past
Chaitya monasteries for the fashionable elite,
Synagogues, that expand for one day of the year,
Churches, in wealthy neighbourhoods - like faith is Capitalism\'s biggest convert,
Mosque\'s, with intelligence agencies, surveillance vans parked outside...
Gift me the wisdom to comprehend, why there\'s no Owls in City\'s
when we need them the most, where: in every direction there\'s a crime waiting to stamp our loyalty card membership.
Scarecrows, aplenty
every street corner has a ghost floating between high\'s
stumbling, over those who\'ve surrender to life.
Every new TV show is a Sci-fi or Comic adapted plot, futuristic and immense in scope
and yet, in San Francisco
they have a department for cleaning human faeces off our streets...
I seek Hendrix as my ear\'s window of escape, and shuffle along
watching and adding my ignorance to this Sea of pavemented obliviousness, we\'ve collectively sculpted
out of our cigarette ash dreams and and wine cork ambitions.
It\'s hard: to be strong as a dishevelled entity of modernity
\'beneath gods robe of lambs-tongue krill and tailored suit
sail whip-lash through the bladder of the eyes
to channel apes to pentogram of weed
to seed the doubled coin of headless shrimp;\'
(forgive me dear Poet
I couldn\'t help myself but try and scribble a little feeble reply to your poetic mastery, thank you for choosing to share and inspire others with your supreme talent!)
\'and what a Talent, it is
you\'ve been gifted!\'
September 10th, 2021 03:58
L. B. Mek said:
:that fig tree of prosperity, winking
between moonlit slits
of nightmare smeared bed sheets,
I seek answers, dear universe!
Nietzsche, decried God\'s death a century ago
and yet here I walk past
Chaitya monasteries for the fashionable elite,
Synagogues, that expand for one day of the year,
Churches, in wealthy neighbourhoods - like faith is Capitalism\'s biggest convert,
Mosque\'s, with intelligence agencies, surveillance vans parked outside...
Gift me the wisdom to comprehend, why there\'s no Owls in City\'s
when we need them the most, where: in every direction there\'s a crime waiting to stamp our loyalty card membership.
Scarecrows, aplenty
every street corner has a ghost floating between high\'s
stumbling, over those who\'ve surrender to life.
Every new TV show is a Sci-fi or Comic adapted plot, futuristic and immense in scope
and yet, in San Francisco
they have a department for cleaning human faeces off our streets...
I seek Hendrix as my ear\'s window of escape, and shuffle along
watching and adding my ignorance to this Sea of pavemented obliviousness, we\'ve collectively sculpted
out of our cigarette ash dreams and and wine cork ambitions.
It\'s hard: to be strong as a dishevelled entity of modernity
\'beneath gods robe of lambs-tongue krill and tailored suit
sail whip-lash through the bladder of the eyes
to channel apes to pentogram of weed
to seed the doubled coin of headless shrimp;\'
(forgive me dear Poet
I couldn\'t help myself but try and scribble a little feeble reply to your poetic mastery, thank you for choosing to share and inspire others with your supreme talent!)
\'and what a Talent, it is
you\'ve been gifted!\'
September 10th, 2021 03:58
Ears On Trumpets Hill
L. B. Mek said:
maggots foot, on the first line of a love poem
that\'s so - uniquely, you dear Poet
really liked this imagery:
\'the trees to shoulder arms beyond rhetoric
stuffed bulls-horn marching mayhem through my torso\'s lie
clamps suspect creed with handcuffs bald as osprey\'
September 7th, 2021 04:06
L. B. Mek said:
maggots foot, on the first line of a love poem
that\'s so - uniquely, you dear Poet
really liked this imagery:
\'the trees to shoulder arms beyond rhetoric
stuffed bulls-horn marching mayhem through my torso\'s lie
clamps suspect creed with handcuffs bald as osprey\'
September 7th, 2021 04:06
New Light Through Pisces Window Snakes
L. B. Mek said:
\'the air that gravels voice
and grave for the heavens pick
knots railway trees
to the grumble-weeds of bullring
walking still-born
to the headstone of the Stork
with mummied hands
and a single strand of air;
as old haunts chant and crave
a gauntlets touch\'..
In so much of the poetry
you\'ve kindly chosen to share
there is such a clear highlight
of that first loss, we humans feel
when for whatever reason
we notice, a nurturer\'s caring presence - missing
and I like, how you continuously
emphasise that crucial moment in our development
(humanity\'s skulls and brains
maximise their growth by age three,
the only part of our development
to reach its physical capacity, so early)..
you then, filter those images
to interact with the subject of your poetry
and in so doing, allow us to glean the correlation
to that single thread of occurrence, turned consequence...
thank you! dear Poet
\'what a Talent!
September 3rd, 2021 04:45
L. B. Mek said:
\'the air that gravels voice
and grave for the heavens pick
knots railway trees
to the grumble-weeds of bullring
walking still-born
to the headstone of the Stork
with mummied hands
and a single strand of air;
as old haunts chant and crave
a gauntlets touch\'..
In so much of the poetry
you\'ve kindly chosen to share
there is such a clear highlight
of that first loss, we humans feel
when for whatever reason
we notice, a nurturer\'s caring presence - missing
and I like, how you continuously
emphasise that crucial moment in our development
(humanity\'s skulls and brains
maximise their growth by age three,
the only part of our development
to reach its physical capacity, so early)..
you then, filter those images
to interact with the subject of your poetry
and in so doing, allow us to glean the correlation
to that single thread of occurrence, turned consequence...
thank you! dear Poet
\'what a Talent!
September 3rd, 2021 04:45
From Where Came Sorrow
Trenz Pruca said:
I like your poem a lot. Inspired. Thank you.
September 1st, 2021 18:30
Trenz Pruca said:
I like your poem a lot. Inspired. Thank you.
September 1st, 2021 18:30
I Hold No Beast
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Teddy.
hope you enjoyed your time away;
welcome back.
September 1st, 2021 07:33
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Teddy.
hope you enjoyed your time away;
welcome back.
September 1st, 2021 07:33
Humour Me
L. B. Mek said:
it is an honour, to read your unquestionable poetic Genius:
\'how I ache
the days and troughs\' through
the acres
of the swine the good-willed men.
the lazy boys of idle goose
and sunday comes
time to comb the ferret
in my heir apparent wig
figs ivory as mouths my sunday vows
digs deep inside the churchyard of my swollen brain
when once came cuthbert dressed
as monkfish peddled pike
when once skimmed milk flowed
faster through my breast
to summer salt; footloose and bramble free
now my bramley sleeps within a mile of the mangers lie
I am alive and well
in a silent well
where dips gods severed wing
in a chorus of appraisal. a jesus to a child.
the missing love. a wise man drinking sulpher
through a summers pain
I am wiser just by knowing winter will appear
hold me close enough to understand this fear
of aged youth
will breathe like cancer breathing through the acid
on my skull
like sapphire dull.\'
August 30th, 2021 04:21
L. B. Mek said:
it is an honour, to read your unquestionable poetic Genius:
\'how I ache
the days and troughs\' through
the acres
of the swine the good-willed men.
the lazy boys of idle goose
and sunday comes
time to comb the ferret
in my heir apparent wig
figs ivory as mouths my sunday vows
digs deep inside the churchyard of my swollen brain
when once came cuthbert dressed
as monkfish peddled pike
when once skimmed milk flowed
faster through my breast
to summer salt; footloose and bramble free
now my bramley sleeps within a mile of the mangers lie
I am alive and well
in a silent well
where dips gods severed wing
in a chorus of appraisal. a jesus to a child.
the missing love. a wise man drinking sulpher
through a summers pain
I am wiser just by knowing winter will appear
hold me close enough to understand this fear
of aged youth
will breathe like cancer breathing through the acid
on my skull
like sapphire dull.\'
August 30th, 2021 04:21
With Cloth and Clown
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Teddy...
and to think such a thing happened to you is something I can only guess as being a difficult time.
and being compared with Tarantino....a comment I will enjoy for a very long time.
as kind as always;
Thank You;
August 22nd, 2021 05:17
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Teddy...
and to think such a thing happened to you is something I can only guess as being a difficult time.
and being compared with Tarantino....a comment I will enjoy for a very long time.
as kind as always;
Thank You;
August 22nd, 2021 05:17
Blood Eyes
L. B. Mek said:
oozing with poetic genius from one line
to the impactful next,
when reading your work, I tend to dive
from unfeasible heights
and find myself immersed, in a world
of fantastically transcendent poetry!
thank you, for choosing to share, dear Poet
\'what a Talent!\'
August 19th, 2021 03:10
L. B. Mek said:
oozing with poetic genius from one line
to the impactful next,
when reading your work, I tend to dive
from unfeasible heights
and find myself immersed, in a world
of fantastically transcendent poetry!
thank you, for choosing to share, dear Poet
\'what a Talent!\'
August 19th, 2021 03:10
When Flesh Leaves Bone
Saxon Crow said:
Beautiful. No other word to describe it
August 17th, 2021 16:41
Saxon Crow said:
Beautiful. No other word to describe it
August 17th, 2021 16:41
When Goes Time
L. B. Mek said:
if Merlin was into poetry
I would bet his writes
would have read a lot like yours, dear Poet
a magical journey of wild, unapologetic imagery
and layered, insightful commentary
\'what a Talent!\'
thank you for choosing to share
August 17th, 2021 03:53
L. B. Mek said:
if Merlin was into poetry
I would bet his writes
would have read a lot like yours, dear Poet
a magical journey of wild, unapologetic imagery
and layered, insightful commentary
\'what a Talent!\'
thank you for choosing to share
August 17th, 2021 03:53
Set Fire And Sea
A Boy With Roses said:
Like I said on my reply to your comment on my newest poem I\'ve been drunk and passing out the last few nights, and busy with life in general, so haven\'t had to time to read and digest poems on here as much, but your poems are so rich and aesthetically pleasing. You\'re a true craftsman of words, and glad it\'s seeing the light of day!
August 15th, 2021 14:07
A Boy With Roses said:
Like I said on my reply to your comment on my newest poem I\'ve been drunk and passing out the last few nights, and busy with life in general, so haven\'t had to time to read and digest poems on here as much, but your poems are so rich and aesthetically pleasing. You\'re a true craftsman of words, and glad it\'s seeing the light of day!
August 15th, 2021 14:07
A Midnight Rush
A Boy With Roses said:
\"no smaller than one freckle on the hen who fathered time
this is my day to rest and rust and bark\".
WOW! Sometimes I\'m too precise to let myself go like this, and I don\'t take full advantage of my vocabulary, but I appreciate poems like this. Very inspiring!
August 15th, 2021 14:03
A Boy With Roses said:
\"no smaller than one freckle on the hen who fathered time
this is my day to rest and rust and bark\".
WOW! Sometimes I\'m too precise to let myself go like this, and I don\'t take full advantage of my vocabulary, but I appreciate poems like this. Very inspiring!
August 15th, 2021 14:03
From The Season To The Egg Plant
L. B. Mek said:
some write\'s we read
some we experience
rare ones, do come along
that allow us to transcend
even for just those minutes
lost in the current of creativity\'s zeal
dogpaddling, to stay afloat
yearning to understand
how such wondrously vivid imagery
can be worded so accessibly transparent,
(what are we but the pride, we forage
in those regretted failings, that we first: must own
so-as to cultivate our capacity, to disown)
another Great write, dear talented Poet
thank you!
August 13th, 2021 04:28
L. B. Mek said:
some write\'s we read
some we experience
rare ones, do come along
that allow us to transcend
even for just those minutes
lost in the current of creativity\'s zeal
dogpaddling, to stay afloat
yearning to understand
how such wondrously vivid imagery
can be worded so accessibly transparent,
(what are we but the pride, we forage
in those regretted failings, that we first: must own
so-as to cultivate our capacity, to disown)
another Great write, dear talented Poet
thank you!
August 13th, 2021 04:28
Through What Was Once An Anger In My Vein
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Teddy.
not sure on this one...
mind all over the place today so got lost somewhere.
a day to forget i think;
always nice to hear your views.
thanks again.
August 11th, 2021 14:47
aDarkerMind said:
thank you Teddy.
not sure on this one...
mind all over the place today so got lost somewhere.
a day to forget i think;
always nice to hear your views.
thanks again.
August 11th, 2021 14:47
I Traced It\'s Tail, And Failed;
L. B. Mek said:
\'through aisles of swans, where once
a short tail grew
as tall as the tower. tall but lame, coiling
with the twisting of the last son\'s kill.
flesh form on the god-bone
pilgrim peas on dates, as red as crows
all eyes aboard the snow plough.
proud but shy.\'
Poetry, has so many layers
in one sense you word, atrocity
with such fervour and stark animosity
that most squirm, if asked to relate
and commentate;
then, on another layer
by choosing this story
from the hundreds, you\'ve heard and ignored
yourself
a thread, is unveiled
where if we were to painstakingly, trace
we would be sure to find
that sting in the story, which pricked
your empathetic artistry
into that zest, of purposed activism
where, no grey lines exist
because you related, to this suffering
far too closely, for its impact
to be marginalised
as merely surreal: inspiration...
(a laudable write
on so, so - many levels;
its a privilege to share in your poetic genius
thank you, for choosing to share)
August 10th, 2021 04:24
L. B. Mek said:
\'through aisles of swans, where once
a short tail grew
as tall as the tower. tall but lame, coiling
with the twisting of the last son\'s kill.
flesh form on the god-bone
pilgrim peas on dates, as red as crows
all eyes aboard the snow plough.
proud but shy.\'
Poetry, has so many layers
in one sense you word, atrocity
with such fervour and stark animosity
that most squirm, if asked to relate
and commentate;
then, on another layer
by choosing this story
from the hundreds, you\'ve heard and ignored
yourself
a thread, is unveiled
where if we were to painstakingly, trace
we would be sure to find
that sting in the story, which pricked
your empathetic artistry
into that zest, of purposed activism
where, no grey lines exist
because you related, to this suffering
far too closely, for its impact
to be marginalised
as merely surreal: inspiration...
(a laudable write
on so, so - many levels;
its a privilege to share in your poetic genius
thank you, for choosing to share)
August 10th, 2021 04:24
Five Days But Still
A Boy With Roses said:
Hm, I wasn\'t able to translate this. Nevertheless I\'m sure it\'s magic.
August 6th, 2021 17:28
A Boy With Roses said:
Hm, I wasn\'t able to translate this. Nevertheless I\'m sure it\'s magic.
August 6th, 2021 17:28
In A Quarantine State Of Mind
L. B. Mek said:
\'hiding, beneath the foxfire from the bee sting
as the shadow
on my windows lung, spreads slowly\'
\'I bear my soul to the white horse drips
pounding my ceilings shores
draining the carpet of my slow crawl\'
\'am at home with the florist
in her red onion dress
now blessed with the fourth seasons trowel
fathering a clarinet child, farming
the strings of her harp
in a quarantine state of mind\'
\'how I have aged
with the marrow in a dead seed well
spinning with the four walls of my grave;\'
\'once more as cups the darkness of the face
the thin laced mother
smothers, the swelling on my chest\'
(forgive my rudeness, dear Poet
I couldn\'t help, rearrange your lines
to showcase and Highlight
that defiant - Luminous: hope
determined to still shine Bright
in-Spite of the bleak Night, dripping
from that Wholehearted scarlet
of your poetry\'s Resplendent: Art!)
\'what a Talent\'!
keep Questing, keep Soaring dear Poet
thank you! for sharing
August 6th, 2021 03:50
L. B. Mek said:
\'hiding, beneath the foxfire from the bee sting
as the shadow
on my windows lung, spreads slowly\'
\'I bear my soul to the white horse drips
pounding my ceilings shores
draining the carpet of my slow crawl\'
\'am at home with the florist
in her red onion dress
now blessed with the fourth seasons trowel
fathering a clarinet child, farming
the strings of her harp
in a quarantine state of mind\'
\'how I have aged
with the marrow in a dead seed well
spinning with the four walls of my grave;\'
\'once more as cups the darkness of the face
the thin laced mother
smothers, the swelling on my chest\'
(forgive my rudeness, dear Poet
I couldn\'t help, rearrange your lines
to showcase and Highlight
that defiant - Luminous: hope
determined to still shine Bright
in-Spite of the bleak Night, dripping
from that Wholehearted scarlet
of your poetry\'s Resplendent: Art!)
\'what a Talent\'!
keep Questing, keep Soaring dear Poet
thank you! for sharing
August 6th, 2021 03:50
In A Quarantine State Of Mind
Coyote said:
This reads like a soliloquy of a modern day McBeth! Stark, brilliant imagery in every line and emotion that leaps from the page and tugs at the heart. Really loved it.
August 5th, 2021 15:33
Coyote said:
This reads like a soliloquy of a modern day McBeth! Stark, brilliant imagery in every line and emotion that leaps from the page and tugs at the heart. Really loved it.
August 5th, 2021 15:33
« Return to the profile of aDarkerMind
