I was completely transfixed: I was completely transfixed by the floating, atmospheric movement of this spellbinding expression with its "soft, slow goodbyes" that glided with ethereal grace into a mist of pulsing sorrow and a desire for oblivion. Written with astonishing poignancy and immersive power, it absolutely compelled me to read it again.
Applauding the word mage!
Thank you Starward: I value your opinon towards my work, I dropped out of school
because it was too much for me to handle. I tried different jobs, God was behind me
letting me live my life. I'm a poet because I prayed for something to do and went back to school
to learn how to write, God showed me the way to this day. Now, God is calling me home why I don't know!
I think of you as a friend to keep me on the right path concerning my poetry, someone can learn from me and how I write.
I served my purpose here, I did it my way. Now I have to answer for my actions, I like you because I did it my way.
Thank you
William J.
I'm guilty of many things: I'm guilty of many things myself. I do try to get coffee at places that stop using styrofoam cups and order food from places that abstain from it. It's not an exact science but I try to recycle and reuse as much as possible.
I believe Starward,: I believe Starward, PostPoem's scholar who can put a poem under a microscope and comprehend its every nuance like no one else, said it all and said it best.
As I read it, the word "classic" kept coming to mind, and I tell you honestly, I believe it deserves to be in the pantheon of the great, unforgettable poems for its timeless grace, its pristine artistry, its priceless guidance, but most of all, its heart-melting emotional impact, which, in my humble opinion, is the language of poetry.
Congratulations on this. A literary conquest.
As of April of this year, I: As of April of this year, I have been reading Poetry for half a century (the first two years, compulsory; the rest, gladly voluntarily), but very few Poets have actually shaken my soul. Many impress my mind, but only the chosen few reach my soul. This poem puts you among that chosen few. This poem is, and is going to continue to be, one of the greatest poems ever posted at PostPoems. Your poem will minister to people you may never meet, and of whom you may never know, but on the great Day of Reckoning, you will see the great gppd that it will have done by that time. I am often an unpleasant old coot, a little too stubborn, and a little too smug, but I can recognize great Poetry when I read it. During my undergrad years, I was privileged to study the greatness of Poets long gone---Eliot, Stevens, and the greatest iof them all, Vergil. This prepared me (although I did not foresee it then) for PostPoems, where I have seen the magnificent greatness of living Poets---like Patriciajj, and now, yourself. Although I am probably in the final "go around" of my life, due to my medical problems, I thank God (and let me say it again, I thank GOD) for the privilege of being alive today to read this poem. A casual reader may think this comment may be just a string of superlatives; but a casual reader will not fully appreciate your Poem, which demands the best that the reader can bring to it. They told me, and they still tell me, that Vergil's great poetic gift was to describe the pathos of life and how to deal with it---his line, Sunt lacrimae rerum---reminds us that there are tears for things, and that we should accept that and deal with it, as Aeneas dealt with the horrible destruction of Troy. Your poem enters, and enters successfully, that realm that Vergil charted so well two thousand years ago, and I applaud you for it, and I thank you for sharing with us this poem, this magnificent and towering literary achievement!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Thank you ever so much, and: Thank you ever so much, and God Bless you even more than ever so much. I have launched my prayers Heavenward on your behalf. Also sending you a PM.
I must offer my sincere and: I must offer my sincere and contrite apology for missing the point of this poem entirely. I was ill at the time (I remember the day precisely, because it was my late father's birthday), and I failed to give the poem the kind of comment it deserves. Please forgive me. I am, and will continue to be, praying for you; not only the prayer of Jabez, but also Hebrews 4:16. Again, please accept my apology, and please forgive my incompetence. I am not nearly as efficient a reader as I sometimes think I am.
Thank you for the reply, and: Thank you for the reply, and yes, I did mean my comment as a compliment.
I took one look at the Wake and never opened it again. When I was an undergrad, we were all expected to read and get all dithery over Ulysses, but I only enjoyed two chapters of it (one of them being Molly's long soliloquy). Even with liking those, I can only take Joyce in small doses, very small doses.
A great write: All to often, we can fall into the despair of wanting to be loved where we aren't, wanting to pick the flower in the neighbor's garden. We might stomp through our own field of daisies and glue thorns on their stems, just to pretend they are violent roses in order to justify this desire. Often, I think, we are not even aware of this behavior in ourselves when it happens. At least for a time, till we truly, fully, understand appreciation. You captured the state prior, so well, I think.
Pardon my jumping in, but you: Pardon my jumping in, but you make a fair point about the founders. They are sometimes turned into gods, which they were absolutely nothing near. Quite a few of them pushed for a revolution to avoid having to pay compiled debts to banks in England (large loan debts, not specifically taxes), Samuel Adams took great pleasure in leadings the tarring and feathering of his business opponents when ever he could use their loyalist ties to turn a crowd against them and Thomas Jefferson stopped talking about ending slavery after he realized - in a letter to Washington - that "breeding" his own slaves would make slavery far more profitable (which he then even proceeded to directly "donate" his own sperm to achieving).
Washington, meanwhile, participated in quite a few fraudulent land schemes in New York State (so did Hamilton) - using his surveyor license to doctor land titles and sell the same piece of land to multiple people (who sometimes had gun battles to the death while he counted cash safely in the distance, speaking of guns). That's not even close to the worst thing Washington did, of course. His massacre of indigenous people in what is now Michigan while in the British Military essentially was the powder keg for the "French and Indian" War. Of course, there were plenty of slave owners, elitists who didn't believe most people should vote, and monetary manipulators (purposely issuing worthless money) among the group. In short, the constitution and each of it's amendments needs to stand on their own merits, not on the shoulders of men who weren't quite the giants many would like to believe. At their best, they were very intelligent men. But they were, more than not, extremely flawed to say the least.
Beyond that, I don't wish to offer any other specific thoughts on guns at this current hour. But I wanted to nod to your sentiments about the founders not being infallable.
With certain frogs, there's: With certain frogs, there's no coming back from the hallucination - and you'll soon be growing mushrooms out of yourself. Glad you didn't lick one of those ; )
"On a quest to kiss the sun" is a very poetic lyric, inviting one on an adventure that seems to peel off the "long and winding road". A lot of strong visualizations thoughout (that make me wonder if this was based on a real experience), and peppered with humor along the way. It's not my favorite topic, but you managed to keep me hooked in - which, I think, says a lot for the quality of your writing.
So many break-up poems just: So many break-up poems just skim the surface, but you, with poetic sleight of hand, knew that evocative simplicity and details were the way to make it real and pierce the heart. Your resounding question carries the loss even farther and deeper. Striking work.
Starward, I'll take that as a: Starward, I'll take that as a compliment! About a month ago I had considered picking up a copy of Finnegan's Wake; but after reading a 500 or so word excerpt, I decided to let that one rest on the shelf for a few years. Had that in mind as I started to jumble up the poem I had written, which was equally as nonsensical. Funny as it is, I've spent all day trying to translate it! Not too much success yet, but it was fun to write and edit all the same! :)