This is wholly unintelligible and I do apologise, but I’m at a point in which trying to curate a thought ends up harming more than helping when it comes to composing. I don’t know what path to take besides continuing writing and hoping the problem sorts itself out before long.
Thank you (and sorry) for reading,
João-Maria.
(CALIATH) 
No apology required. I love this – my mind was enjoying the imaginative leaps on the journey.
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As one is taken….can I move in this…
Please do not be sorry. How many of us both now and across time wonder this very thing…can I move in this…
You give voice to this very sense. Your writing is full with the moment. Do take care 🌷
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It’s more-and-more a veritable sentiment of the sensitive ones; there’s a monumental paralysis in having everything share such a magnetic symbolical force. Everything is so much, now.
The sister poem to this one, in Portuguese, explores the innocent cruelty of forgetting, which is how, I believe, many still move in this.
Thank you, Ellie; you are beyond kind to me, truly.
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Me: Almost there… per-dur-a-ble… wait, where’s my dictionary…
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Hahaha… I’m sorry!
I chose perdurable because, in Portuguese, it means something that is close to permanent but isn’t necessarily permanent (from long-lasting to ever-lasting).
90% of my “harder” vocabulary comes from being too lazy to use a translator and trying make a Portuguese word sound English: melhorar – ameliorate, asseverar – asseverate, perdurar – perdure, perdurável – perdurable. There are many more, and some from French as well.
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Please, don’t apologize for your exquisite poetry! I loved the elegant chaos of its structure – it captures the feeling beautifully – your imagery, such as “the architecture of stiller stillness”, is profoundly evocative and rich!👏
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Oh, thank you so much, Veronica. It means the world to me that you’d find my imagery rich, or textured, or evocative. That’s the precise purpose of my poems, at least, while I write them; to be these tenuous lines vibrating with sensory force; not so much to have a message, because I have none worth passing.
Again, super-thank you, you’re awesome.
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It seems we have a similar poetic vision! I’m looking forward to seeing more of your works. ☺️
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I used to write poems full of complex images I really liked, but then, when I read them back years later I couldn’t understand exactly the train of thought that would lead me to the place the poem was supposed to guide me to. In other words, I didn’t understand my own poem. I call it ‘nibbling’ Picasso; just because it sounds weird and wonderful, doesn’t mean it’s a masterpiece! To stop this happening, I would try to write a short piece to explain each poem, and often by doing so, I would make alterations, often losing or altering the one ‘immovable’ line in the poem that I really liked, realising that even though it was a lovely image, it belonged to a different poem, one I would write another day. I enjoyed your poem, and there were some lovely vivid images in it, but I suspect that you might need to explain the whole to yourself to make it your masterpiece….
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I always have a clear neurolinguistic and mythopoetic picture of my poems; after all, I’ve written them, I must at least know which sentiments inspired them. I don’t know about train of thought.
This clear picture doesn’t concomitantly mean that I view it as adequate communication, which is what Art purports to be, at least outwardly. That much, I understand is entirely inept, but that would be salved by the ability of explaining the poem to you, not to myself.
I think. But I can’t explain it, because if I could, the poem wouldn’t be so strangely put together to begin with, you see the conundrum?
Also, I love Picasso.
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Well, I’m thoroughly enjoying this luscious tumbling sensation; so, please, carry on!
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Is it that bad? Oh dear. We must all act the fool, at times. I’m a bit lost in all of this.
My creative future is prosaic, I just need to get over how dull it is to be enchained by congruency.
Thank you for reading, and I’m sorry Nick, haha.
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🙂 🙂
You’re funny!
It’s ace, you fool!
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It sounds like shards of glass that flew in all directions. What are you fighting, I wonder?
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The wilting of the spirit, I suppose. Thank you so much for still reading me, Ivana!
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Oh my…I think I’ve been through all possible states of mind. I am wrong but I got to know inner landscapes well. No fear.
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This is a gorgeous poem!
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Oh, thank you, Gabriela; being complimented by you is a certain honour.
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My pleasure. I’ve read you for some time now without saying anything. I want you to know your writings are gorgeous. You are one of the top poets. The complexity, the beauty, and the depths of your pieces are mind-blowing.
Yours
G.
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I feel precisely the same, Gabriela! I’ve been reading you for a good deal of time, here and on Spillwords, and you are always filled with texture, festooned with richness and potency; your talent is undeniably sublime.
I’m beyond glad that you feel such way about my little poetic shards.
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Thank you so much for your kind words. One day I hope I will be as good as you are.
Have a fabulous rest of the day.
Gabriela
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Sometimes,
it’s just there, like some oversized manta ray, gliding its dominance over my own personal sky…
overwhelming me,
so much so that I have no idea now, here in its echoes, whether I want to even attempt the writing of it.
Perhaps I’d rather it stayed there, in my private place, woven so much wider than any page.
But something of it simply insists in slipping out, doesn’t it?
Like a treasure and a curse, when you’re standing in the middle of it.
But you have a place to pour it,
and you have people who will continue to be drawn here by the light that feels too overwhelming to see right now.
Breathe, and enjoy the glisten as they shine it back in memorable pieces of fellowship.
Or something like that.
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Woodsy, did my poem inspire this, or did you write it previously and thought it fitted?
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Just wrote it now in response to your poem.
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I just asked because I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a poem-reply; as in, no poem of mine ever inspired the creation of another, as far am I’m aware.
It’s a magnificent feeling, though; it has always been a thing I aspired, a milestone of sorts. That my small craft could, as a cold spring, energize the voice of another.
You’ve made me strangely giddy.
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Whatever you are doing, go on. I am very glad I read this.
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Oh, thank you so much, Basilike.
I am very glad that you have…
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Joao-Maia, provocative, yet instilling, flowing through the veins of the reader’s soul… great depth and imagery!
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Oh, I thank you, truly. I’m not quite on your level, but I do as I can. Hopefully, growth is as illimitable as the willingness to grow.
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It is an honorable pleasure to read you. We’re all at different levels, always learning… always a need to read the famous poets; always we should uplift, support and encourage. Peace and light. Stay safe and be well, my new poetic friend.
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This is really beautiful! It brings to mind the poetry of Adrienne Rich.
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Oh, thank you so much. It is a great compliment indeed, to be compared to Adrienne Rich; although she wrote better at twenty-one than I do now, at twenty-four.
I also must say that, in the magnificent pantheon which is that of female American poets, Marianne Moore owns my heart and my soul.
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You are very welcome! Your writing is exquisite!
I have not read much by Marianne Moore, but she was quite the wordsmith. It would be quite difficult to pick one favorite out of the multitude of amazing poets, but if I had to I would have to say Mary Oliver.
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I can safely say your work brings nostalgia to me, of a time from my childhood days and nights which were full of vivid dreams and weird textures. I feel inspired and I am glad that I found your blog and I hope such magnificence is here to stay. Best wishes!
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I’m so glad. It is true that much of my own nostalgia runs through my poetry, and my days too were filled with the surreal and quixotic.
I’m happy to inspire you, and I sure do hope that I’m here to stay!
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The only way through writing is through:.. so we keep going – things unravel in their own time.
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Wow. So many raw feelings. Love this
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Thank you so much, Fatimah. It does have a certain rawness to it; a certain urgency.
Most of my poems now do, as I write them a bit “over-the-knee”, but I’m still beyond glad that you love them. 🙂
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Thrilling! I loved this piece, please don’t be hard on yourself, you are an amazing writer.
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Thank you so much, Mrityunjay; I’m not a writer in the strict sense, but I’m glad you find me amazing at it. You’re amazing yourself!
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So kind of you say that🙂 Take care, always❣
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Thanks for taking an interest in my style of writing. Never say sorry for putting yourself up on the screen. I was guilty of this a few days ago. I found the conversation thread here interesting. I hope to gradually get to know more of you when I settle down with my Muse Thalia in Bloggers Vale. You haven’t heard of BV? New upmarket suburb in Bloggers Land. Affordable rent. Nice landlord is WP
Now to your poem Joao. Everything was crystal clear.
To me INHABIT made lotsa sense
Each stanza crafted full with deep bliss
Marasmus a withering? good golly
Good heavens! thought I what is dis?
You didn’t understand a word…..
Go home…
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Do not apoligize for such raw, and vulnerable emotion. No sorry for being brave. It is clear that you opened a vein, to write in blood, the truth of your conflicted sorrow. It is beautiful in its somber melancholy melody.
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Oh, thank you so much!
WordPress is such an awesome place for this, because people are so appreciative of expression.
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