Musk is proof of man's great disease: People will ignore your grave sins - as long as you dress your words in their tribal outfits - until you sin against them. And, just the same, those who despised you before will suddenly sing your praise if you turn your fangs against their enemies.
Subliminal glyphs AGLOW here: Subliminal glyphs AGLOW here, specialized, like scoring a rare card in a Pokemon pack; something happens in the snap of your fingers, as you clack down courage upon the keyboard, and navigate us through a powerful pastlife with a flattering, matter-of-fact, lovely language.
Please . . . please . . .: Please . . . please . . . forgive my discourteous failure to reply and acknowledge this comment. It was an oversight on my part, horribly embarrassing, but not intended to be disrespectful. I am so sorry, and I will try to be more careful going forward.
And I certainly like your suggestion about identifying the great Poet's beloved; I will certainly mull that over.
Thank you for the kind: Thank you for the kind comment. The way the poem came to me was rather unusual---such that I believed the Cosmos was guiding my direction at that point. I felt a most unusual curiosity to find out if A. E.'s collection of poems, House Of The Titans, contained any more poems in blank verse other than his masterful analysis of a Shakesperian mystery (as yet unsolved) entitled "The Dark Lady." I found the "Time Spirits" poem and, reading it through, I realized that the final lines---which became my poem's epigraph---were about the kind of poetry at which both you, and A.E., excell. Because he was the first Poet of whom I had ever read (the summer I turned seven years old), I have always felt a connection to him. And his connection to you, and yours to him, takes place on that rarefied plane of the most mystic, and most cosmic, Poetry. This is a constellation of sorts, among poems rather than stars, and although your style and his are very different, your visions and your shared compassion for humanity, are too similar to be a coincidence in the grand, cosmic scheme of existence. Finding that those lines of A. E.'s were so descriptive of your poems that, for the past two or so years, I have loved and admired, I felt as if I was discovering an entirely new dimension of meaning.
And though I feel iunworthy of the high and lofty compliment that the second paragraph of your comment contains, I am very, very grateful (flat on my face on the floor and in humble silence . . . that kind of grateful) for your kind words.
Thank you. I do not know why: Thank you. I do not know why my eyes are misbehaving, but at least I can say it has improved a little since this morning. I ask the prayers of everyone on this issue.
That you would use your time: That you would use your time and talent to sculpt such a resplendent, moving gift leaves me breathless with the deepest gratitude. Even if your sonnet wasn't ablaze with the greatest encouragement one could hope for and my name never mentioned, I would applaud the mastery of form and language and the graciousness of spirit that inspires you to uplift other poets.
Your appreciation of A.E. and his lofty vision tells me that you, yourself, share an artistic and spiritual connection to this poetic legend.
An eternity of humble "thank you"s for such a generous and stunning stamp of approval.
Blessings upon blessings.
If you are serious about the: If you are honest about the connection being random, I'll have you know I recently posted a poem "Wrinkly slinky" and though it may not be so appropriate, it seems like your slinky might indeed be the fated redemption.