PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Thank you for giving me one: Thank you for giving me one of the finest comments I have ever received, and for selecting this particular poem on which to comment.  Although I tried to make it seem less like an autobiographical poem (which, too me, can seem to be too exclusive), it does proceed from an autobiographical event, which happened in the mid-autumn of my seventh grade year.  The change it effected was almost palpable in its resonance through the rest of my life.

The final two lines are very: The final two lines are very wise.

A work that makes me feel: A work that makes me feel wistful and juvenile, in that I once again am in English class, casting furtive gazes at the cute boy a few rows ahead, scrawling unpolished poetry into my lined notebook paper about the curve of his lips and the curl of his hair.   A specific and familiar sensation, despite the years between now and then.   Brava, poet! As with all these Ad Astra (what a title!) I am moved.   Agreeing with Patriciajj that I just make time to sit down and read them all

So many supreme works of: So many supreme works of wonder have popped up in your collection that I'm frustrated that I've been so busy and don't have time to explore them all. Each one deserves reflection, deep analysis and praise.   Here, you take what seems, on the surface, to be an ordinary scene, but under the surface, there are stories within stories about its significance. Anthony, with a simple, playful, demonstrative act, injected his own life-altering statement into the teacher's pat lecture and invited numerous interpretations, both sensual and delightfully subversive.   Highly meaningful nostalgia.

Thank you so much Wordman,: Thank you so much Wordman, it's amazing how the mind can show us something our eyes cannot see. sue.

Wow! I really felt my spirit: Wow! I really felt my spirit move in for what is fir me two poems that could both stand in their own right!    From this gorgeous immaculate prologue:  Quantum particles or these  macro realms  like scattered jewels— each one a cluster of worlds, each one terrifying in its splendor, each one an epoch or epochs— it's all the same through the eyes of Spirit   Who showed us a day in the  life of forever,  and what a gift  to a teeming, questioning planet to rewind millennia and peer into the impossible:   Ravenous, mauling void, screaming white  pinholes: the abyss and paradise trading places  again and again, here in a  glassy freedom  running rampant,  going about its  usual business  quite nicely  without us   in the  slow-breathing  star kingdoms and pastures of  silence.    Imagine: immaculate, immortal, opulent . . . Followed by this incredible soliloquy: silence   where there  should be legends that make us weep, grind us into dust, crush our writhing hearts in a vise . . .   Magnetic darkness  like a wordless sage too evolved for our  prim and  acceptable faith, our shark-toothed love, our trifling  mortal stories,    say something.     Tell us about the rest of it.   Read from the Book of Omnipotence    here, at time's end and time's beginning, where new, polished  thoughts are  possible,   here, in the center of raging emptiness and raucous stillness between galaxies.  Galaxies!    Is this God or another exhibition at the  palace?    Whatever this is, for a moment we are perfectly cleansed and perfectly here  and perfectly united in wonder.  Both take me to very well travelled and new places thoughts and dillemas. You have so beautifully penned these here. I hope you don't mind that I like them individually more than together, the perfection of the first has left an indelible impression on my thoughts. Best blessings Ss.