Comments received on poems by arqios
the fountain
Tristan Robert Lange said:
Arqios, this is haunting…the fountain folding into itself feels like thought caught in endless return. Quietly devastating. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
September 26th, 2025 08:56
Tristan Robert Lange said:
Arqios, this is haunting…the fountain folding into itself feels like thought caught in endless return. Quietly devastating. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
September 26th, 2025 08:56
the crooked compass
sorenbarrett said:
A poem of perceptions where time bends, and colors fade but all must be seen in one form or another. A thought provoking write my friend
September 26th, 2025 05:27
sorenbarrett said:
A poem of perceptions where time bends, and colors fade but all must be seen in one form or another. A thought provoking write my friend
September 26th, 2025 05:27
the fountain
Tom Dylan said:
A fine write, mate. Love the way it flows. (Pun intended. :-D)
September 26th, 2025 04:28
Tom Dylan said:
A fine write, mate. Love the way it flows. (Pun intended. :-D)
September 26th, 2025 04:28
the fountain
Goldfinch60 said:
Those circles will always come back onto themselves Rik.
Andy
September 26th, 2025 01:28
Goldfinch60 said:
Those circles will always come back onto themselves Rik.
Andy
September 26th, 2025 01:28
the fountain
sorenbarrett said:
Deeply philosophical as well as poetic this poem focuses on circles. A pint in time to another draws a straight line but from a farther perspective line to line an arc and in fine a circle. The circle of life and existence. I love the images created in this poem the hulls without rigging, the fountain. Where to stop it makes no difference always in the same circle and from there to where. An endless journey without end. Lovely and a fave my friend
September 25th, 2025 07:16
sorenbarrett said:
Deeply philosophical as well as poetic this poem focuses on circles. A pint in time to another draws a straight line but from a farther perspective line to line an arc and in fine a circle. The circle of life and existence. I love the images created in this poem the hulls without rigging, the fountain. Where to stop it makes no difference always in the same circle and from there to where. An endless journey without end. Lovely and a fave my friend
September 25th, 2025 07:16
between the hours
Tom Dylan said:
A fascinating poem, mate. The idea of the plaza holding its breath, just brilliant. Nicely done.
September 25th, 2025 02:30
Tom Dylan said:
A fascinating poem, mate. The idea of the plaza holding its breath, just brilliant. Nicely done.
September 25th, 2025 02:30
rusted edges, burning gears
Goldfinch60 said:
Strong words Rik showing the state of the world today.
Andy
September 25th, 2025 01:25
Goldfinch60 said:
Strong words Rik showing the state of the world today.
Andy
September 25th, 2025 01:25
rusted edges, burning gears
Doggerel Dave said:
Loss of control - nothing meshes properly - yet some metaphorical (!?) WD40 has seen you through....
Glad to know all is not lost, Rik.
September 24th, 2025 21:24
Doggerel Dave said:
Loss of control - nothing meshes properly - yet some metaphorical (!?) WD40 has seen you through....
Glad to know all is not lost, Rik.
September 24th, 2025 21:24
rusted edges, burning gears
orchidee said:
You gone rusty yourself? I have - probably! lol.
September 24th, 2025 10:30
orchidee said:
You gone rusty yourself? I have - probably! lol.
September 24th, 2025 10:30
rusted edges, burning gears
Tristan Robert Lange said:
Rik, this piece gnashes and rusts in equal measure…the soot, the forgotten hands, the trembling gears. It speaks of decay but also the stirring beneath. And paired with your note, it’s clear…life may be hectic, but your voice is still cutting through. Beautifully done. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛ sorry to hear of your struggles, my friend. Hope they ease soon!
September 24th, 2025 07:23
Tristan Robert Lange said:
Rik, this piece gnashes and rusts in equal measure…the soot, the forgotten hands, the trembling gears. It speaks of decay but also the stirring beneath. And paired with your note, it’s clear…life may be hectic, but your voice is still cutting through. Beautifully done. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛ sorry to hear of your struggles, my friend. Hope they ease soon!
September 24th, 2025 07:23
rusted edges, burning gears
sorenbarrett said:
This poem speaks to me of the cold weight and fierce grind of society over the broken and bleeding bones of the individual soon buried and forgotten in the name of progress. It has a feel of anomie and alienation a distancing from others in a metallic unfeeling world of distopia. But there is a final justice in entropy and death that treats all the same in its inevitability
September 24th, 2025 06:31
sorenbarrett said:
This poem speaks to me of the cold weight and fierce grind of society over the broken and bleeding bones of the individual soon buried and forgotten in the name of progress. It has a feel of anomie and alienation a distancing from others in a metallic unfeeling world of distopia. But there is a final justice in entropy and death that treats all the same in its inevitability
September 24th, 2025 06:31
between the hours
Goldfinch60 said:
Walking through that plaza brings so much ti us Rik.
Andy
September 24th, 2025 01:47
Goldfinch60 said:
Walking through that plaza brings so much ti us Rik.
Andy
September 24th, 2025 01:47
between the hours
orchidee said:
Oohh, how can I explain all the cryptic-ness in this? I can\'t lol. Well, not with just 3 brain cells. lol.
September 23rd, 2025 10:48
orchidee said:
Oohh, how can I explain all the cryptic-ness in this? I can\'t lol. Well, not with just 3 brain cells. lol.
September 23rd, 2025 10:48
between the hours
Tristan Robert Lange said:
My friend, you’ve bottled that in-between hour beautifully. The plaza’s breath, the sundial lagging, even the warmth of an old smile...it all lingers in stillness until the child’s shout resets the scene. It feels like I’ve lived this moment, quietly waiting for time to move again. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
September 23rd, 2025 07:52
Tristan Robert Lange said:
My friend, you’ve bottled that in-between hour beautifully. The plaza’s breath, the sundial lagging, even the warmth of an old smile...it all lingers in stillness until the child’s shout resets the scene. It feels like I’ve lived this moment, quietly waiting for time to move again. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
September 23rd, 2025 07:52
between the hours
sorenbarrett said:
Cryptic this poem contains depth of the past, procrastination of the present, great lines: smiling the smile I made a couple of hours ago, still warm in its pocket., a sundial leans into the wrong hour, its bronze hand always too late.) brought back to the present in the end by the child. Not yet sure whether to take the child as literal or an inner child\'s voice. Very nice my friend and a fave.
September 23rd, 2025 07:25
sorenbarrett said:
Cryptic this poem contains depth of the past, procrastination of the present, great lines: smiling the smile I made a couple of hours ago, still warm in its pocket., a sundial leans into the wrong hour, its bronze hand always too late.) brought back to the present in the end by the child. Not yet sure whether to take the child as literal or an inner child\'s voice. Very nice my friend and a fave.
September 23rd, 2025 07:25
the saga in the hall
Tom Dylan said:
A fine write, mate, with a cracking last line. Great stuff.
September 23rd, 2025 02:57
Tom Dylan said:
A fine write, mate, with a cracking last line. Great stuff.
September 23rd, 2025 02:57
undertow
Goldfinch60 said:
That undertow is always there in our lives Rik and we must use it when needed.
Andy
September 23rd, 2025 01:21
Goldfinch60 said:
That undertow is always there in our lives Rik and we must use it when needed.
Andy
September 23rd, 2025 01:21
homestead knights
NafisaSB said:
this is so very descriptive of what the children do - and the pics add to the beautiful effect; well represented - brings back lovelymemories for so many readers
September 22nd, 2025 23:58
NafisaSB said:
this is so very descriptive of what the children do - and the pics add to the beautiful effect; well represented - brings back lovelymemories for so many readers
September 22nd, 2025 23:58
undertow
Dan Williams said:
Amen. Elements in this earth remember even minute details and reveal them centuries, millenniums later. What, really, do humans remember? Nice work.
September 22nd, 2025 23:18
Dan Williams said:
Amen. Elements in this earth remember even minute details and reveal them centuries, millenniums later. What, really, do humans remember? Nice work.
September 22nd, 2025 23:18
the saga in the hall
Dan Williams said:
I worked for many years in a train terminal built in the 20\'s. Before they \"modernized\" it I loved exploring, from the top observation floors to the sub-basement, maybe especially the sub-basement. Your using a similar building to express yourself cheers me immensely. Thanks you.
September 22nd, 2025 23:10
Dan Williams said:
I worked for many years in a train terminal built in the 20\'s. Before they \"modernized\" it I loved exploring, from the top observation floors to the sub-basement, maybe especially the sub-basement. Your using a similar building to express yourself cheers me immensely. Thanks you.
September 22nd, 2025 23:10
undertow
Tristan Robert Lange said:
Arqios, this pulled me under right away. The salt as memory…as witness…that’s such a haunting image. It feels eternal and intimate at once. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛ Well done, my friend.
September 22nd, 2025 20:44
Tristan Robert Lange said:
Arqios, this pulled me under right away. The salt as memory…as witness…that’s such a haunting image. It feels eternal and intimate at once. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛ Well done, my friend.
September 22nd, 2025 20:44
undertow
Friendship said:
Well-written, the poem \"Undertow\" revolves around memory, history, and the connection between the past and the present. The repeated phrase \"the salt remembers\" serves as a metaphor for the enduring nature of memory and experience, suggesting that elements of the past linger and shape our present lives. The subject matter encompasses the weight of history, the unnoticed events that shape our existence, and the desire for reconnection with those memories.
September 22nd, 2025 12:24
Friendship said:
Well-written, the poem \"Undertow\" revolves around memory, history, and the connection between the past and the present. The repeated phrase \"the salt remembers\" serves as a metaphor for the enduring nature of memory and experience, suggesting that elements of the past linger and shape our present lives. The subject matter encompasses the weight of history, the unnoticed events that shape our existence, and the desire for reconnection with those memories.
September 22nd, 2025 12:24
undertow
sorenbarrett said:
I\'m sorry Cryptic I can\'t help but project my past work into this poem. Salt is crucial in keeping a balance in body fluids and neural transmission,. Without it life ceases as do our ability to move muscles and think properly. It remembers as do we. It is in the water of the sea from which life came, hence the undertow. It is in rocks and it affects the bending of light waves in water. It opens neural gateways for transmission even when no one is watching, it aids in memory in the nerve cells. It is a seasoning for food waiting to be dissolved as we lean in from the table. Now I am fairly sure this is not what you intended when you wrote this but is my initial projection tainted by my past that blinds me to the real intent of the poem
September 22nd, 2025 06:51
sorenbarrett said:
I\'m sorry Cryptic I can\'t help but project my past work into this poem. Salt is crucial in keeping a balance in body fluids and neural transmission,. Without it life ceases as do our ability to move muscles and think properly. It remembers as do we. It is in the water of the sea from which life came, hence the undertow. It is in rocks and it affects the bending of light waves in water. It opens neural gateways for transmission even when no one is watching, it aids in memory in the nerve cells. It is a seasoning for food waiting to be dissolved as we lean in from the table. Now I am fairly sure this is not what you intended when you wrote this but is my initial projection tainted by my past that blinds me to the real intent of the poem
September 22nd, 2025 06:51
the saga in the hall
Goldfinch60 said:
Your words took me there to that place Rik and I have not been there for a very long time.
Andy
September 22nd, 2025 01:13
Goldfinch60 said:
Your words took me there to that place Rik and I have not been there for a very long time.
Andy
September 22nd, 2025 01:13
the saga in the hall
Tristan Robert Lange said:
Arqios, this is remarkable. You turn the concourse into living text...the brass clock face, scuffed tiles, espresso hiss, all folded into a paragraph of city life. That final metaphor of the building as a sentence, bricks as words, scuffmarks as commas...it’s the perfect close, framing industry and humanity as a story we’re all writing together. Lush and precise, beautifully done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
September 21st, 2025 18:42
Tristan Robert Lange said:
Arqios, this is remarkable. You turn the concourse into living text...the brass clock face, scuffed tiles, espresso hiss, all folded into a paragraph of city life. That final metaphor of the building as a sentence, bricks as words, scuffmarks as commas...it’s the perfect close, framing industry and humanity as a story we’re all writing together. Lush and precise, beautifully done, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
September 21st, 2025 18:42
the saga in the hall
sorenbarrett said:
Here Cryptic I feel there is deeper meaning pressed into that floor. We are all parts and marks of where we live and work. I a most descriptive set of images this poem sets the boundaries of belonging past and present where a person\'s history is marked in the tracks they leave and the service they perform. A lovely write that has the feel of the past imprinted on it. Truly poetic my friend
September 21st, 2025 05:18
sorenbarrett said:
Here Cryptic I feel there is deeper meaning pressed into that floor. We are all parts and marks of where we live and work. I a most descriptive set of images this poem sets the boundaries of belonging past and present where a person\'s history is marked in the tracks they leave and the service they perform. A lovely write that has the feel of the past imprinted on it. Truly poetic my friend
September 21st, 2025 05:18
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