Wow, you do know how to set a: Wow, you do know how to set a stage! The ambiance, crafty and evocative in itself, was an effective part of the character study, the dynamics of the relationship and the shattering exchange.
I was absolutely seeing—and feeling!—the moment when everything plummeted and "the wallpaper was going/ to be permanently indelible" and "the taste of garlic lamb wine sauce would/ smack of rejection".
Even the mussels became part of the tragedy—collateral damage, you might say.
Small details carry a lot of weight in your surprisingly efficient, very human drama. You slyly linked emotions to small yet highly symbolic details and allowed the scenery to express the devastation, but when you were overt, you took it to a stunning level of artistry:
"Is there a way to let the air out of your soul so many times
That it no longer can be filled again?"
Everyday sorrow turned into art. Marvelous.
I too wish that somehow you: I too wish that somehow you could share this poem and comment with the snickering snobs who couldn't appreciate the legend that shook the world in her own way. I'm thrilled that you were vindicated and encouraged by my review.
Your comments, as radiant and: Your comments, as radiant and artistic as your poetry, are appreciated more than you know.
"A nocturne". I had to smile when I read that.
I'm wildly gratified that you accurately defined the effect and the message I was going for. You always get it and you always express it with the astute and masterful precision of an aficionado of poetry as well as a great poet.
Deepest, endless gratitude. God bless.
Repreading this comment once: Repreading this comment once more, I am so very grateful for it. I wish I could have sent this to the two "scholars" who put enormous pressure on me to drop her from my sophomore project; but both of them are deceased. Still, it was an honor, after twenty-one years, to be asked at that reunion dinner, "Is Mary Shelley still your girl?"
I have said before, and will: I have said before, and will continue to do so, that the posting of a new poem by Patricia is an event; a significant event; a colossal event. This poem is no exception to that trend. I truly believe---and I have no ulterior motive to say, and nothing to gain by saying so---that she is not only the greatest Poet that I have ever encountered at postpoems, but that her work sets benchmarl's (like Vergil's. Stevens', Eliot's). Studying these poets in my undergrad years, I often wondered what it would have been like to see their poems or books appearing one by one. In my undergrad years, however, I would not have been mature enough to appreciate the experience of watching greatness unfold in my sight; now, decades later, I am able to witness it and declare it.
In its remarkable litany of metaphor, this poem reminds me of the work of two powerful Poets, Pop Stevens, and the French_diplomat (Ambassador to the United States, 1928-1933)---both of whom used metaphor heavily in their poetry. Patricia's poem presents a catalogue of night metaphors---a nocturne, if I might be permitted the pun---and one can almost hear the delicate piano notes of Chopin's Nocturnes---in the background.
In the final three stanzas of the poem, we arrive at its center of gravity, about which all the other metaphors orbit. And we also see a very subtle shift when she reaches the "unutterable love": she shifts from using metaphor to using simile, which is an entirely different kind of comparison. The Apostle Saint John described the nature of God, God is Love. No Poet, not even one of Patricia's stature, can improve upon that; so simile becomes the best strategy here.
She also reminds us that there are no insigificances in God's eyes; even each hydrogen atom in the entire universe is significant, and known to, God. Again from Saint John: For God so loved the world; and that which is loved cannot never be insiginifant to the Lover. And when I check the word for "world," I find that the word Saint John used was "Cosmos." Not just this planet; not just Jupiter; not just Alpha Centauri; but also the farthest known stars, Icarus and Earendel. And all the microbes that have fossilized in the pits of empty Martian lakes.
Patricia has the great talent of being able to explain a cosmic process in terms of the cosmosc, first and foremost, but in metaphors and similes than the language conveys. This is one of the most difficult tasks facing most Poets. She, however, presents it so successfully that it almost seems that she invented the concept.
I will: I will no longer judge my own apologetic hot tea in the summer request of air conditioned waitresses.
Thanks for the thought to fill my thought filled Sunday.
D~
It's ultimately your decision: It's ultimately your decision what you cut out, but in my humble opinion, these stanzas are keepers:
"I feel,
We may have
robbed eachother
of something
that may have been,
and potentially
could still be,
truly
more beautiful,
by having kept the reigns held tight"
Could-have-beens are always emotional powerhouses, especially as you presented them: with a delicate, wistful voice and as a question. Your questions added variety and emotional impact to your graceful reflection on life's harsh twists and turns.
Very nice.
Nevermind: Poet Inside - Are you still there.
If you see this after a dozen years, ...
I was looking thru my portfolio and noticed your reference to "Nevermind"
It is posted here as "Bridge Thots"
https://www.postpoems.org/authors/rob_boyte/poem/747756
oh dear, oh dear: Frederic Eugene Basil Foley, MD (April 5, 1891 – March 24, 1966)
Born in St. Cloud, Minnesota, Frederic Eugene Basil Foley did not aspire to be a doctor from the time he was in diapers. Instead he graduated from Yale University with a Bachelor's Degree in English in 1914. A year later, he was admitted to the medical school of the Johns Hopkins School of Medicine, graduating in 1918. He stayed to continue his studies by scrubbing in to surgeries and exploring pathology with Dr. William Stewart Halsted at the Peter Bent Brigham Hospital. After two years, Frederic moved to Boston, Massachusetts and secured a position as a laboratory assistant at Harvard University in the Department of Surgical Research.
Frederic was considered a "pioneer" in medicine, as he developed seven urologic devices, including his renowned Foley balloon catheter. Frederic Foley and rubber chemist R.A. Lees created the first prototypes of the balloon urethral catheter and presented at the American Urological Association national convention in 1935. While Frederic was perfecting his model, companies Raiche and Davol patented their own version of the balloon catheter.
Though patent rights were never awarded to Frederic Foley, the C.R. Bard Company of New Jersey began distribution of balloon catheters under the name of Foley catheters. Though the materials used to create today's catheters are different, the original structure and design remain from the 1930s.
(Reference: Tatem, Alexander J., et al. "Frederic Eugene Basil Foley: His Life and Innovations." Urology, vol. 81, no. 5, 2013, pp. 927–931., doi:10.1016/j.urology.2012.12.035.
https://www.urologichistory.museum/histories/people-in-urology/f/frederi...)
That was innovative back then but old hat these days.