PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Thanks for your comment!: Thanks for your comment! I'm glad you enjoyed it. Btw, your mention of James Bond prompted me to add something to what I originally wrote. Hope you like it. That website you show, is that for real? Crazy! Ranch dressing soda?? What brilliant mind thought of that? Lol!!

My arteries clogged: ..just in reading this poem. But worth it. Great chuckle out of "How do you like your bacon martini Mr Bond? Shaken or stirred?"   Two more notes:   - Considering the way Elvis Presley died, the poor guy might have wanted to add a couple of leafs of lettuce to that wild concoction of a loaf.   - You asked for bacon soda, and apparently a company named Lester's heard you:    https://rocketfizz.com/media/soda-labels/lesters-fixins-sodas/   I suppose Mr. Presley might have liked to mix thier Bacon Soda with their PB & J Soda. I'd have recommended he spritz in a little Cucumber Soda, too, while he was at it. You know, for the ruffage. : )    

Appreciated: I am torn on this philosophy. On one hand, we should be understanding when people make mistakes, or not assume the worst when people hold views that we deem ignorant. Of course, if we're being honest, we are sometimes in those shoes, ourselves. On the other hand, life requires usually the same skillset that other animals in nature use: we must sometimes judge conditions and make determinations around us for the sake of both survival and having a meaningful life. Sometimes, it seems, that does require making judgements about people based upon their actions. Caution to judgement, and flexibilty in judgement, might be the better approach than being completely non-judgemental.

I think this is one of the: I think this is one of the wisest poems ever posted to this site.

As I read this poem, it is: As I read this poem, it is describing or naming three locations, two related and one opposed to them.  The two that are related are the temple of stars and the softer universe.  The other place is a dislocation, an absence (geographical or spiritual) from the temple and the soft universe that contains it.  In that dislocation (which is how I will refer to it for the rest of this comment), the Earth has no heart, roses look menacing, and romantic strawberries become smirking strangers.  The Poet names this dislocation as the screaming vacuum.      But, in the softer universe, we see more comfortable processes resuming:  streaming galaxies in slow-brewing ages become our mirror---not a mirror of our collective or individual egos, but a mirror of existence; that, existing on this small planet orbiting a relative insignifcant star, we can see the galaxies streaming in the grandeur and largesse of their existence.  But in this cosmic process, of which we are part (whether we are aware of it or not), joy and spirit, being one, bring small miracles into our small mortal world (which blossoms into much more if we keep in mind the great cosmic proccesses going on around us, processes which are such much more visible to us with the use of the Hubble and the Webb telescopes); and it is through our knowledge of thoe processess, which is extended and confirmed by those telescopes, that allowus us---in joy and spirit---to hold sizzling stars in our grasp.    The poem is, ultimately and in summary, a warning:  when we enter the dislocation, our vision becomes skewed.  When we seek the temple of the stars, in the soft universe, we draw closer to the grandeur of the cosmos and participate in it.  This poem proceeds very much like an aspect of Orthodox theology that I particularly like, and that theological aspect suggests that, in this life, and in Heaven, believers become immersed, so to speak, in a partaking of God's nature (and a Scripture in the New Testament actually suggests this, although in the West it is not emphasized).  This does not mean that we appropriate God's nature, which, always, remains God; but that God allows us to "dive into it," so to speak, and begin to explore whatever of its depths or volume attracts us.  The metaphor given is a sword forged out of steel, which is then plunged into a flame to become tempered.  The sword does not appropriate the nature of the flame; but, being immersed in the flame, the sword begins to glow, and its molecular structure tempers and becomes more cohesive, given the entire object a greater strength and usefulness.  The poem suggests that this process also applies to the cosmos, which allows us to observe and, perhaps someday, participate in its simmering eons, its slow-brewing ages.  When we choose the dislocation, and craft our viewpoint from that perspective, we have a much more negative response to the cosmos.  Bur if we choose the soft universe, expressed in the temple of stars, we participate in the grandeur---not that we are deserving, because we are the most undeserving---but because the Maker of that cosmos has given us the gift of participation . . . if we will graap the gift and accept it.

Thank you for your kind: Thank you for your kind acknowledgement, and what a thrilling payoff to read your final draft. I'm assuming it's final because, from where I'm sitting, it's a stunning success! Of course, it's your success and your prerogative to change it as you please.     I found myself falling through a rush of dark and delicious wordcrafting, impeccably arranged, and a galloping rhyme scheme that carried it with graceful excitement from beginning to end.   I have to quote Starward in his opinion that a poem, particularly one in your accessible and compelling style, "both compresses and energizes both time and space". He goes on to explain that it "strikes me as a better venue for a haunted tale."     So true! And you pulled off this daunting task with cyclonic power and engaging poignancy.   I was pleased that you kept the best lines, the real showstoppers, such as:   "Ancient Velveteen skies Glisten in your brooding eyes"   and:   "I am here but you are there stuck in the yesteryear of her atmosphere"   It also turned out to be a wise choice to forgo stanza breaks and punctuation. For this kind of tumultuous expression, the clean and uninhibited form added a breathless intensity that illustrates the emotional storm.   A pleasure and an honor to watch your genius at work. And play!   Your raving fan, Patricia.