Your prose is so fun, trippy: Your prose is so fun, trippy and effortlessly brilliant that I always go back for a second read.
An artfully casual indulgence.
You set the stage with: You set the stage with enchanting and enticingly dark imagery and then expressed piercingly raw pain with amazing prowess—stunts of language such as:
"A dream
Cut away to protect the rest from annihilation"
And the final stunner:
"I taunt the sky and dare it to destroy me"
An immersive achievement. Loved every moment of it!
Thank you for your kind: Thank you for your kind words. Please forgive my belated response, my meurodivergence in combination with my overly loud inner critic make it near impossible to practice self compassion.
Thank you for commenting, and: Thank you for commenting, and you have expressed the point far better than I did, or than I ever could have done. I appreciate the logic of your viewpoint.
I believe I know of the poet: I believe I know of the poet you speak. I do not know why they choose never to respond, but sometimes I wonder - with the sheer grief in many of this person's poems - if maybe there's something I just don't understand about why they publically post poems but otherwise don't participate. Ultimately, I am often taken by the writer's work, and while I rarely leave a comment due to the fact that they are likely disinterested in comments, I still will leave one from time to time, just out of appreciation of the way a certain poem of theirs may have struck me.
Overall, I do agree that it's appropriate to be courteous of others when they take the time to read our poetry and prose, even if the author's main purpose is not to share with others here (despite posting publically). Still, I never expect it nor anything else back for leaving a comment. And I do hear Stephen's point about some people using postpoems moreso as a sort of capsule. None the less, if someone passes you on the street and offers a compliment or kind remark, isn't it proper to say thank you? I think, as much as possible, we need to apply the rules of the physical world to postpoems and the rest of the internet. It's been one of the biggest flaws of the internet that we haven't done so very often as societies.
The only thing that leaves me disspleased with another writer is when they delete a comment I've made. It's rare on here (though it did happen to me recently). That's a mortal sin, to me. Once I discover someone has done that, I will never read or comment on their work, again. This is one of the last places where censorship has not become a backbone of the community, and I pray it stays that way.
Also, like you and Patricia have said here already, I miss comments sometimes, too. Or, sometimes, I read them at the end of the day when I'm exhausted. I'll want to say something more than "thank you", but am too tired to put words together, so I plan to respond next time around. With my memory, sometimes I forget. There have been times where I've only stumbled upon comments months or years later, as a result of one of these two occurrences. As such, I would be remiss to believe that the majority of people don't do their best to respond here, and so I always try to keep that in mind, as well.
Lastly, I just want to say thank you to anyone who has taken even 1 moment to read anything I've written, and doubly so, if you've been kind of enough to remark. I don't expect any of it, but I do greatly appreciate it. And I appreciate these healthy conversations, just as much if not even more.
Very beautiful way: ..of seeing such a moment. And who's to say it's anything less than true. A real tribute to life and connectivity with each other, and with nature more broadly.
The male Dobson freaks people out because of his giant mandibles, but as I imagine you have come to learn already, they are only used for reproduction (holding the female). The female does not have these, and I've spotted a few females around recently. On the whole, the Dobson's are really out and about now, where I am. Seeing them fly around in the evening near lights. They are almost mothlike, and incredible creatures. A real treat with firefly season starting to fade.