Sparkling and alluring: Sparkling and alluring metaphors breathe a whirlwind of energy into this little study of human attraction. "To the outsider," you write, "it appeared/ as/ a circus of The Fates", but there is something very real, lasting and "glowing hot" in the delicate inferno of the union.
A dazzling dance.
I imagine there's quite a: I imagine there's quite a story behind this explosive, miniature portrait of a dangerous enchantress. Your layered metaphor of a teapot that produces heat and yet is "laden/ with lead" vividly illustrates two divergent experiences along the path.
A timeless pitfall presented in a flash of skill and casual grace.
Wow! Let me pause to take a: Wow! Let me pause to take a breath . . . if I can catch my breath after reading this manificent poem. Only a few Poets, most of them here on Postpoems, can affect me in this way. And if I am not able to catch my breath, I am going to send you an invoice for its replacement, lol.
Here is the metaphor, by which I am going to try to describe what this Poem does. I saw a music video in which the Dublin Philharmonic Orchestra was performing the first movement of my very favorite symphony, Dvorak's Ninth, Aus Der Neuen Welt. As the melody approach its completion, the various instruments are playing vigorously, each one following its own process, but the sum total of that process is Dvorak's most masterful composition. This poem works the same way: there are many processes going on, being observed by the speaker's consciousness, and while each process could be a singular incident, the gathering of them in a single poem orchestrates them to the point where the sum of them is the poem, the plurality of them become the singularity of the poem. On a large scale, this kind of artistry leads to epics---I think of Vergil, primarily. But the size of the poem ultimately is no indicator of its poetic strength and meaning. Terms and labels ultimately are no indication of those things, either. All that matters is the effect of the poem on its reader, and this poem succeeds . . . magnificently, triumphantly, and consistently. Most poems are meteorizes that flash across the sky in a streak and then fall to earth and sputter out. But some poems are like stars---able to produce such a powerful effect that their light can cross hundreds, sometimes thousands, of light years to reach us. This poem is like those stars.
Thank you for sharing such: Thank you for sharing such stirring and much-deserved words of appreciation for our shining star. Every word is beautiful and absolutely true.
The juxtaposition of two: The juxtaposition of two lives is very subtle in this poem, which takes a very conversational tone, but the power of the juxtaposition is undeniable and very convincing.
In short lines, a brief span,: In short lines, a brief span, and a very conversational tone, this poem delves splendidly into a universal human condition.
I apologize for falling: I apologize for falling behind in my reading. I like this poem very much, and its brevity conceals some very deep meaning, and also echoes, in a ripple effect, of pain.
AGENDA: GRINDING AMERICA DOWN:
You haven't done it to yourselves. It was done to you – by those with a Marxist agenda to destroy America.
And if you fall – we all fall… and Europe is already very near being flushed down the shit-pipe, by these wanker-banker globalists.
And you – America, are their final obstacle.
911 & Covid-19 & Agenda 2030 – are merely stepping stones, to a global communist government.
AGENDA: GRINDING AMERICA DOWN
https://www.bitchute.com/video/LYKWuNl8xJwg/
smiling ear to ear:
You always knock my socks off, and I know how fond you are of socks. No pun intended. But it’s true. I’m smiling ear to ear right now. And all I can say, is thank you.
it's all group think now:
Have you seen the inside of modern schoolrooms… it resembles nothing I remember. It’s all about group desks and pods. No individual anything.
It’ s all Marxist group think conditioning. Gone are the old wooden desks of Dead Poet Society.