Poet. Poem. A given, given all that came before, yet affirmed with this piece of writing, like a page of information being refreshed, facts underlined for the umpteenth time and recognition of this truth, matured to become essential, becomes just a little more defined. The definition of a poem is somewhat abstract, at least the way that I view it, less to do with words and form than it has to do with approach, something that is, something that becomes, not something that is designed so to speak. Your writing has this natural, un-produced quality, artless art again so to speak, very much interpreted as having become, arrived, of their own accord, free flowing ink of heart, of mind, and all the more beautiful, exceptional, impressionistic and affecting for it. Received as is written and therein lies the truest beauty of the art of writing. Writer, poet, definitive, incarnate. To read you is to be awed on levels en masse.
Reading this again a few hours later, the appreciation of it has only been heightened by the time that has passed since first acquaintance. The words presented in this manner elongates them, allows them centre stage individually, elongating sounds, sharpening imagery, extending audience of each performance, deepening the poem. Meditative awareness is bestowed by layout, a breath upon each, serenity, beauty, this poem is delightful in every way.
Ms Storm, I am amazed at how well you are seeing the process behind the writing and explaining it better than I could. This piece was written without tether, so to speak, which is to say, (like Exercising my Fingers), written without constraint of thought or opinion, without need of a destination or result, but written as a frolic of words, purling over the rocks of my mind.
Thank you for helping me see beyond the words. I feel your comments are like a spigot in the park and I am hot and sweaty from a walk and craning my neck to get every drop of cold water I can. :-D
Thanks Nathan. Sometimes the image inspires the poetry and sometimes the poetry inspires the image. Either way, the relationship feels symbiotic, which is to say, I can't imagine doing just images or just poetry--the two seem made to coexist as the flower and the sun.
Thanks for the very kind word. Always appreciated.
7 comments:
LOVE the image.
Poet. Poem. A given, given all that came before, yet affirmed with this piece of writing, like a page of information being refreshed, facts underlined for the umpteenth time and recognition of this truth, matured to become essential, becomes just a little more defined. The definition of a poem is somewhat abstract, at least the way that I view it, less to do with words and form than it has to do with approach, something that is, something that becomes, not something that is designed so to speak. Your writing has this natural, un-produced quality, artless art again so to speak, very much interpreted as having become, arrived, of their own accord, free flowing ink of heart, of mind, and all the more beautiful, exceptional, impressionistic and affecting for it. Received as is written and therein lies the truest beauty of the art of writing. Writer, poet, definitive, incarnate. To read you is to be awed on levels en masse.
Reading this again a few hours later, the appreciation of it has only been heightened by the time that has passed since first acquaintance. The words presented in this manner elongates them, allows them centre stage individually, elongating sounds, sharpening imagery, extending audience of each performance, deepening the poem. Meditative awareness is bestowed by layout, a breath upon each, serenity, beauty, this poem is delightful in every way.
Ms Storm, I am amazed at how well you are seeing the process behind the writing and explaining it better than I could. This piece was written without tether, so to speak, which is to say, (like Exercising my Fingers), written without constraint of thought or opinion, without need of a destination or result, but written as a frolic of words, purling over the rocks of my mind.
Thank you for helping me see beyond the words. I feel your comments are like a spigot in the park and I am hot and sweaty from a walk and craning my neck to get every drop of cold water I can. :-D
I hope that you get your wish, Tree --
Annie, do I get more than one? :-D
Wow! I love the poems- they have a feeling that suits (that is!) the infinite nature of fractal images
Thanks Nathan. Sometimes the image inspires the poetry and sometimes the poetry inspires the image. Either way, the relationship feels symbiotic, which is to say, I can't imagine doing just images or just poetry--the two seem made to coexist as the flower and the sun.
Thanks for the very kind word. Always appreciated.
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