(Memnos I) – Alluvium


        I was vanished; A most egotistical subterfuge, but naught without its proper cost. Approaching my date of birth by last December, I suffered a massive plunge in my mental integrity, followed by some level of tragedy, anguish, and some sparse instances of recuperation. This is most common to me since my early childhood, yet, still incredibly difficult to pull through. I am yet to fully pull through…

          I cannot outwardly write in such deep chasms of self, and my emotional sensibility becomes convoluted, nearly surrealistic, without a geometric nor organic form, which is a common symptom of a hindered artistic performance. Some find beauty in that hindrance, and to some degree, so do I; It is different, however, when one is the recipient of such chaos. To augment a fragmented emotional self is a perilous task, as it differs from the plenitude of wholesome transmission — where the emotion is left in the rear-view mirror — and instead magnifies the locations of shattering.

         Although I may not claim to be as rejuvenated as I would like, I still very much miss this sumptuous community of poets which I adore so dearly, and counted each second to return; For now, I will publish only small and unambitious inklings of poetry that I shape from memories of my childhood, as the one displayed above, as to ease myself into descriptive views and then transition into the emboss of emotional production once I am more prepared to do so.

But I’ve missed this so much; I didn’t think I would be as happy as I am now, but it truly bathes me with joy…


Published by João-Maria

A tick clinging to the bristles of a purple boar.

50 thoughts on “(Memnos I) – Alluvium

    1. Thank you so much! Rarely have I’ve felt an act of appearance to be beautiful, but now you’ve claimed it, it feels as real as anything; The beauty of Minerva’s owl may only be seen at dusk.
      Thank you so much…

      Liked by 2 people

    1. It is… introductory, perhaps; I designed it as a mute missile, as that of Pharis to Diomedes, which almost feels as a pathetic howl to a distant form. Me, pleading to my youth, which exists… Beyond, bellow, and within me.
      The language is somewhat archaic, haha; I’m Portuguese, and I know English only from reading a catalogue of older english-form books, which gave me this maugre vocabulary that barely connects outwardly, my apologies for that! I’m glad you found it beautiful, thank you much.

      Liked by 4 people

  1. Bem vindo de volta Jonhnny.
    Confesso que já me tinha perguntado o que era feito de ti. É bom saber que poderei continuar a ler as tuas poesias, as quais são magnificas.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Infinitos agradecimentos, Irina. Esta coisa de criar é um engenho ardiloso, quase demente.
      Sabemos o abstracto extrópico e sabemos as linhas da forma concreta, mas tudo entre isso é um planalto branco feito de sons; É difícil de navegar, especialmente quando estou mais frágil.
      No entanto, sempre adorei ter-te aqui do meu lado, especialmente partilhando algo tão belo como uma cultura. É um milagre para qualquer alma mortal.
      Obrigado, Irina.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Compreendo-te um pouco, nestes processos criativos, embora noutros campos.
        Eu é que te tenho a agradecer. E continua, sempre que possas.

        Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you so much Aaron! I’m very glad to see you still standing; It is special to return to familiar faces, almost as if resurfacing at the backyard pond after being thrown at a violent sea.

      Liked by 2 people

    1. Jade, my sweetest! I missed you just as much. It truly is a tendril reaching out, I couldn’t have explained it better. Looking back is a arduous yet tempting thing, but there is still so much to live now, isn’t there? I try to not lose sight of that.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Personally, I think you are doing that already. When we are true to who we are, others intuitively get it anyway. What we say and do has such power . . .

        I don’t remember Latin much any more, but would love to know what Alluvium means?

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Thank you!
        When it was an actual Latin word, it meant “to be washed away”.
        Now, it was imported into English to describe a plain created after a river floods, made of sediment and clay, remnants brought by the stream which then become flood plains.
        The poem itself draws from both meanings; the former in thematic, the latter in cosmetic.
        Thank you for taking such interest, I’m quite the babbler.

        Liked by 2 people

      3. I love that background information. It gives more depth to the poem. You are quite a formidable poet. Not in a meancing way, but powerful in a very positive way.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Oh, thank you endlessly, Dr. Deb. That is one of the kindest things once can say. I’m very glad you’ve found me, for such kind words are not commonly received, but so tenderly welcomed…

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Josh!
      This return has been nearly equal to an obscure and surreal poem crafted under Italian sunlight. Never in two hundred lifetimes would I imagine to be so warmly received.
      Thank you tons, it is great to share this experience with you; It feels almost literary.
      Again, thank you, Josh.


      1. Thank you. Yes, I’m still going. I hope you are feeling better. I recently wrote an article about how writing has helped me through difficult emotional times and how supportive the blogosphere can be. Glad to see you back. 🙂


    1. Loquats are very absent from poetry in general, but they were very common in my youth. I loved eating them akin to none other.
      Thank you, dearly.


    1. Thank you! I’m surely a bit rusted, but I’m hopeful that, with some movement, the iron will shed.
      I’m still trying to grip a balance between words that directly surge in my mind and demand a space, and overly straining a composition with archaisms. Patience, and Time, my biggest allies, and deepest foes.
      Again, thank you so much Anne.

      Liked by 2 people

  2. my favorite: “In shortest breath, child, you were me (And I was mine/most gloriously…)”
    i have been too busy to think, but in taking a moment to breathe (and consume poetry), was happy to see that you are still here, still unveiling the mysterious poetry of life…

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Another beautiful poem. And beautiful writing. Your work is some of the best I have read in past few months since I started to blog. And looks like you too are a Sagittarius ♐️

    Liked by 1 person

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