Stunningly beautiful words arise from your pain. No consolation , I know , but the vapor trails that you are leaving in the sky are lovely. Thinking of you and sending xoxo.
Brilliant, T. So much violence and pain contained inside these hard, shining lines with their hooks flashing ... That you should craft these poems with all their fine rhythm and sounds in the face of your anguish is incredible. I love '...bait//so deadly sweet/she would ripply upriver/endlessly just to nibble/at his dangling hook.' Her passivity there in the face of such cruelty- the beautiful one caught - and then the second poem where she is the one with the power to slaughter - the way she 'jigs' and 'ponders'. Simply terrific. Go T!
T is for Therese (I wish I could put the accents in). . . it is also for Tall, Terrific and Triumph. . . which is what these poems are, T - and you in them. Brilliant. As Mary says 'Go, T." xo
i read this earlier today, T., and didnt know what to say; had to sit with it awhile. you have write with such strength and power here. poetry as spectator sport, and i am cheering you on from the sidelines. Come on now, she says, gasp just a little for me... whoa!
such exquisite language...your metaphors work well for your circumstances. the words tell the story in all its gory glory. Damn fine work, T. No doubt, good cleaning out of the psyche as well.
My daughter, my baby girl was devastatingly hurt (just as you are) a few years ago. What I loved about her during this was her utter refusal to be rendered in-vulnerable. She told me..I will NOT, not love again. This will NOT put me in a place where I will not offer myself totally and completely to someone again. She survived brilliantly and beautifully and loved again...she is my hero.
T. these poems are an astonishment. They would be were you suffering from less or little anguish, but to know you can have written these in the midst of all the pain, shock, dislocation and turmoil of the heart you've suffered is purely amazing. You've grasped the power of your own rage--and it is the strongest fire on earth, hang on to it for dear life because it keeps you out of the black hole of despair. Write it, T. Oh, my, write it. xo
Clarity of expression when the emotion is so strong is a wonder to behold. They are a remarkable pair. Cheering from the sidelines, too, with much admiration. xo
Amazing--powerful compression, vivid images, that violence and the beauty, the lures. I hope writing them did help--even if just a little for just a minute or two. Hugs to you--and yes: Go T!
oh yeah! love the two together.
ReplyDeleteStunningly beautiful words arise from your pain. No consolation , I know , but the vapor trails that you are leaving in the sky are lovely. Thinking of you and sending xoxo.
ReplyDeleteBrilliant, T. So much violence and pain contained inside these hard, shining lines with their hooks flashing ... That you should craft these poems with all their fine rhythm and sounds in the face of your anguish is incredible. I love '...bait//so deadly sweet/she would ripply upriver/endlessly just to nibble/at his dangling hook.' Her passivity there in the face of such cruelty- the beautiful one caught - and then the second poem where she is the one with the power to slaughter - the way she 'jigs' and 'ponders'. Simply terrific. Go T!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful words, chilling message. From pain comes much beauty.
ReplyDeleteT is for Therese (I wish I could put the accents in). . . it is also for Tall, Terrific and Triumph. . . which is what these poems are, T - and you in them. Brilliant. As Mary says 'Go, T." xo
ReplyDeletei read this earlier today, T., and didnt know what to say; had to sit with it awhile. you have write with such strength and power here. poetry as spectator sport, and i am cheering you on from the sidelines. Come on now, she says, gasp just a little for me...
ReplyDeletewhoa!
such exquisite language...your metaphors work well for your circumstances. the words tell the story in all its gory glory. Damn fine work, T. No doubt, good cleaning out of the psyche as well.
ReplyDeleteMy daughter, my baby girl was devastatingly hurt (just as you are) a few years ago.
ReplyDeleteWhat I loved about her during this was her utter refusal to be rendered in-vulnerable.
She told me..I will NOT, not love again. This will NOT put me in a place where I will not offer myself totally and completely to someone again.
She survived brilliantly and beautifully and loved again...she is my hero.
I particularly responded to the spoken words in the second poem - the feeling of intimacy that speech offers. Great stuff!
ReplyDeleteStunningly raw. We all quest for survival.
ReplyDeletewow T. !
ReplyDeleteMy mouth, my heart, feel jerked by those lines.
ReplyDeleteYet you continue to have words, you continue to have agency. You continue to be beautiful.
Love, C.
T. these poems are an astonishment. They would be were you suffering from less or little anguish, but to know you can have written these in the midst of all the pain, shock, dislocation and turmoil of the heart you've suffered is purely amazing. You've grasped the power of your own rage--and it is the strongest fire on earth, hang on to it for dear life because it keeps you out of the black hole of despair. Write it, T. Oh, my, write it. xo
ReplyDeleteClarity of expression when the emotion is so strong is a wonder to behold. They are a remarkable pair. Cheering from the sidelines, too, with much admiration. xo
ReplyDeleteBrilliant; I've saved these for my flyfisherman husband!
ReplyDeleteYou're a survivor! xa
Amazing--powerful compression, vivid images, that violence and the beauty, the lures. I hope writing them did help--even if just a little for just a minute or two. Hugs to you--and yes: Go T!
ReplyDelete