deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Beyonder
A living ideal vacuumed her from actuality while my arms propped up a slab of tri-aether polymer.
Of the spiders caught, released from their Ozark clear bottles
when knocking at the seemingly open air
by bate of a fingered illusion horizon
through to that fracture in the buttery leaves of palpable observation
traverse,
her screech broke through the layer of a house and shingles slid near and with a hunched tree
in cheetah claw resolve,
and the North before her broke
which she peeled out to the cosmos.
I hold a slab.
Don't drink but the spooned mud brew of the day
as it repeats in converging hourglass laps.
A council of fireflies pieced to a daisy moon,
drew her by the gravity straight by the blossomed wheel of the lady's hips,
and
the empirical truth reduced to insulation on my plane of words.
I cough up screams to crack of the film of my perched lips,
but the abdomen seeps but gulf unbearing will.
The partial cavity re-balances aside her insomniac whitewater.
Tear the rod. Tear the canoe. Tear the stones of the brooding mountain.
Even with the barrier mauled into my tiny hands,
neither the ladybugs amass to another sun
that would release me from out this world into her,
for which bad luck I ought farewell.
Of the spiders caught, released from their Ozark clear bottles
when knocking at the seemingly open air
by bate of a fingered illusion horizon
through to that fracture in the buttery leaves of palpable observation
traverse,
her screech broke through the layer of a house and shingles slid near and with a hunched tree
in cheetah claw resolve,
and the North before her broke
which she peeled out to the cosmos.
I hold a slab.
Don't drink but the spooned mud brew of the day
as it repeats in converging hourglass laps.
A council of fireflies pieced to a daisy moon,
drew her by the gravity straight by the blossomed wheel of the lady's hips,
and
the empirical truth reduced to insulation on my plane of words.
I cough up screams to crack of the film of my perched lips,
but the abdomen seeps but gulf unbearing will.
The partial cavity re-balances aside her insomniac whitewater.
Tear the rod. Tear the canoe. Tear the stones of the brooding mountain.
Even with the barrier mauled into my tiny hands,
neither the ladybugs amass to another sun
that would release me from out this world into her,
for which bad luck I ought farewell.
Published 29th Dec 2018
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29th Dec 2018 6:44am
you're such an interesting writer. i admit it's taken me some time to grok what you're doing but it's really grown on me. you encourage me to take very careful reads and read again- and i want to.
great imagery and heavy symbolism. sometimes they don't make sense next to each other but that's an effective way of leading the reader down an un-expected path of juxtaposition. still thinking about this one.
thank you.
great imagery and heavy symbolism. sometimes they don't make sense next to each other but that's an effective way of leading the reader down an un-expected path of juxtaposition. still thinking about this one.
thank you.
29th Dec 2018 3:43pm
Thank you for seeing something good in my work. And thank you for putting so much effort in commenting. 😁
It took a long time to find my own style. I like to evoke emotions and let those emotions lead people through the scenes instead of being very autocratic about where the reader should go.
In the end, I don't want or expect people to find absolute meanings from my poems. Instead they'll find what they feel, and no one will be able to say to any other reader that a poem definitely means this or that and can't mean the other because the meaning is different because of each person's associations.
But the readers might experience similar feelings because of the expressive tone in the imagery, so they can all unite in that way while having freedom with the meanings. And even if a poem is not understood by a person logically, the poem is always accessible by its feeling.
At least, that's what I aim for.
It took a long time to find my own style. I like to evoke emotions and let those emotions lead people through the scenes instead of being very autocratic about where the reader should go.
In the end, I don't want or expect people to find absolute meanings from my poems. Instead they'll find what they feel, and no one will be able to say to any other reader that a poem definitely means this or that and can't mean the other because the meaning is different because of each person's associations.
But the readers might experience similar feelings because of the expressive tone in the imagery, so they can all unite in that way while having freedom with the meanings. And even if a poem is not understood by a person logically, the poem is always accessible by its feeling.
At least, that's what I aim for.
29th Dec 2018 11:11pm
well said!
I have a terrible memory for rote and quotes. but i almost always remember how a literary piece made me feel. the most base connection you can evoke.
i will attempt to open myself up on the journey of your writes and be less cerebral. sponge and radiate.
be seeing you around, dear.
I have a terrible memory for rote and quotes. but i almost always remember how a literary piece made me feel. the most base connection you can evoke.
i will attempt to open myself up on the journey of your writes and be less cerebral. sponge and radiate.
be seeing you around, dear.
29th Dec 2018 4:14pm
Interesting evocative piece Really kept my attention👏👏
"when knocking at the seemingly open air
by bate of a fingered illusion horizon
through to that fracture in the buttery leaves of palpable observation
traverse," interesting imagery and extremely imaginative👏👏
"when knocking at the seemingly open air
by bate of a fingered illusion horizon
through to that fracture in the buttery leaves of palpable observation
traverse," interesting imagery and extremely imaginative👏👏
30th Dec 2018 4:07am
Thank you.
I really admire Aestheticism. With more special effects, spectacle and colors in visual media and narrative techniques in scripts, poetry, which has always been pretty magical, may have to draw on more imagery as we keep the medium potent.
Poetry has faced still visual media in paintings, sculptures and the like and it faced the early television and cinema. Each time, it has been able to evoke something the medium couldn't express. But now, we are facing a more reputable contemporary in an era of copiuous sci-fi and high fantasy elements in film along with narrative that evokes powerful emotions over hours of time. Eventually, we as poets will shape a new avant-garde that will be able to push the envelope further.
It's a big experiment we're all apart of 😄
I really admire Aestheticism. With more special effects, spectacle and colors in visual media and narrative techniques in scripts, poetry, which has always been pretty magical, may have to draw on more imagery as we keep the medium potent.
Poetry has faced still visual media in paintings, sculptures and the like and it faced the early television and cinema. Each time, it has been able to evoke something the medium couldn't express. But now, we are facing a more reputable contemporary in an era of copiuous sci-fi and high fantasy elements in film along with narrative that evokes powerful emotions over hours of time. Eventually, we as poets will shape a new avant-garde that will be able to push the envelope further.
It's a big experiment we're all apart of 😄
never thought of poetry dying. it can't, can it?
i am alarmed. i feel like i have to set up a literary bunkhouse, like asap.
i am alarmed. i feel like i have to set up a literary bunkhouse, like asap.
Poetry might not die, but it stagnates. Instagram poets are at the forefront of current popular written poetry and use extremely short, plain "woke" poems that suit the current attention span for poetry. Poetry with more craft is being read mostly by other poets and academics. Slam poetry is listened to, but not well preserved, due to its dependence on audio and visual effects. Poetry meant for slam isn't often distributed in its written form because it reads less impactfully than it performs, and currently written poetry is easier to save and archive than videos of performances.
Those forms of poetry aren't bad for being convenient for the majority and for their time, but their reduction of content makes each unit of poetry easily forgettable among a mass of similar poetry. In comparison, the written technique of poetry falters and remains in a shrinking academic bubble.
Cultivating literary techniques and promotion to gradually free poetry from the limitations of short attention spans and lack of visualization is the task of current experimentation and the 21st century avant-garde.
I don't know if my poetry will help at all with that, but I'd like to help push forward the poetry community with whatever I can.
Those forms of poetry aren't bad for being convenient for the majority and for their time, but their reduction of content makes each unit of poetry easily forgettable among a mass of similar poetry. In comparison, the written technique of poetry falters and remains in a shrinking academic bubble.
Cultivating literary techniques and promotion to gradually free poetry from the limitations of short attention spans and lack of visualization is the task of current experimentation and the 21st century avant-garde.
I don't know if my poetry will help at all with that, but I'd like to help push forward the poetry community with whatever I can.
