hell

The pain in this is palpable, Kitts.  Grief is a dark, cold day despite summer's heat.

Yes it is Ahvanti. When i remember that time in my life, strange creatures are born in the world of my thoughts.


luv's
buddhakitty.

"strange creatures are born in the world of my thoughts."
... reminded me of "wierd scenes inside the goldmine" (Jim Morrison/The Doors) and I always wondered about that (for 50 years now!). In some way (though I say it very tentatively) suffering seems connected with creativity though I would never say it's the only way. Most suffering leads to overwhelm but it seems it can also open a door to heightened creative responses. (just a thought)

Thats an excellent thought. Pain is unavoidable.  Each individual processes it differently. You are correct.  Pain can destroy, or create .


hugs,
buddhakitty  

This poem captures so much and (in my reading) with a deep mature observation from a processed distance (if I can put it that way). I love the stringent clipped imagery revealing the starkness of the situation, and the guttural expression and extension of a 'person not there' answering back. No hint of self-pity is conveyed, which is what gives the poem real power.

You are correct.  There was no self pity. Good insight Josh. Thank you .



hugs,
buddhakitty.

Dear BK,

I felt lonely reading this. It reminded me of times I was not particularly likeable to myself.
“talking to
myself
but hearing
you
answer back”

I’ve been there too. This is a hugely powerful write. I’m moved to tears BK and that’s not an easy feat. H🌷

All i can say is that i am undeserving of such praise. Thank you Honoria...and bless you.


100 hugs,
buddhakitty.