PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

God within you:   In you God resides He is your guide. He will tell you what to do, imo.

Hi:  You are so right thank you for your sweet comment it's the nights that are so lonely all of you on Postpoems are great 

Make the call, fellow.   Then: Make the call, fellow.   Then go for that walk down the street. You might start it alone, but you might end it connecting with someone.   We're not made to carry on alone, on and on. So it's easy to sympathize with the well of emotions you share here. I hope your call, your cry, is heard soon. I'd say, if it's alright, that a good place to start is by picking up that phone, or - if possible, even better, combining that walk with a trip over to a friend's house.   All the best to you. Little by little, chip away at the void.  

Typhoon!: This is Fantastical Fact The Wrightwords World The Friendly Soldier The Haunting of Herb~  

Equally troubling, the: Equally troubling, the worship party that saw said woman as Lady Peace despite the Raytheon and Boeing tattoos on her left wrist. I'm hiding in the woods.

Thank you.  My posts on this: Thank you.  My posts on this site actually run from 1981 to present day.  I like to leave the older work as unedited as possible.  I want the passion and folly of youth to come through warts and all.  Glad you liked it.

Although, like Stevens,: Although, like Stevens, Patricia often places a poem's center of gravity away from the beginning, in this poem the first line leads with it.  (As I proceed, I should like to excuse the wording of my comment---it may be briefer than usual---due to the my reaction, which they tell me is normal, to the first dose of my Covid vaccine.  I feel like I have been run over by a freight train.)   The poem shows us that we dwell between and among phenomena that seem contrary, like dual poles in opposition to each other:  she gives us a diluted lake but a sky that is a haven.  Remember, though, that the poem summons us to find th gift---between the triumphs and the countless deaths, and the diamond cutting pain.  (In this comment, I borrow several of her phrases.)  What the poem shows the astute reader, as the reader moves among the many symbols that she deploys as representatives of her vision, is that the existence given us is, when we really examine it, the gift.  In one of the most striking comparisons of the poem, and of her entire collection, she states that the stars themselves seem desolate when compared to the enormous value, beauty, and joy of the gift that our very existence bestows on us.     When I was a grade-school youngster, one of my chief annual joys was Easter at my grandparents rural residence.  That was one of the most bucolic places I have ever visited; and no arboretum or formal garden that I have ever seen can compare to it.  My grandfather delighted in hiding Easter Eggs that always led to an elaborate Basket, and all of it was hidden with a shrewd skill that required that I actually look and examine the immediate surroundings.  Patricia's poem reminds me of that experience as it shows me, and every other reader, how to search for, and appreciate, the hidden Easter eggs in our common existence.  I can give a poem no greater compliment than a comparison to my grandparents' residence:  this poem reminds me of what, I think, my grandfather was attempting to teach me:  that some of the eggs are well concealed, and some are obviously placed.  It is a joy to collect and collate them---and this is, in my opinion, the most important function of the greatest Poetry.  So of course we can expect Patricia's poems to trace the contours and the contents of this experience.