deepundergroundpoetry.com
Staccato
Staccato,
Thunderheads are breaking
Over me
Sound,
Shuddering in a silent
Web
There’s certainty, I’ve found
In numbers
A dial ticks
It’s stiff mustachios
Over the headboard,
Upside down,
Or I am
Five days
On the fifth floor
Thirst in the unreachable
Gullies
Of dry bone,
No one comes
Static arcs between fingers
Crawling beneath
Canopus,
Winged,
And white
And shattering,
For reaching
In all kaleidoscopic
Dark
A listening silence,
Mast shattered and dragging,
In the wake,
Neptune pursed
Upon the ragged eyelet
In a torn umbrella
A staring silence
She’s gone
Two days and nights a hollow
Spear, breathes into
Tattered sail,
Listing,
Bespeckled in a blood,
Archipelago
Specters of steam
Curl upwards
From asphalt,
Shining hotly
In dusk light,
Pain huddling beneath
Sparse foliage,
Pressed through fissures
Rise,
Relentless towers,
In ruinous membranes
Of saturation
And to know this is all eternally
Temporary,
Gray white bones rising amidst the
Courser
Blacks, starved of
Summers
Coals
Fingers pressed against windows,
Lips I fucked,
Pursed,
In humid tempest
And to look there again,
And see nothing
And see terrible possibilities,
Arrayed in a questioning arc,
Vertebrae sprawling from her
Arched spine,
Laughing at the emptiness
We’ve suddenly left behind
All names have been shorn
From headstones,
Swallowed,
In this greenwash reclamation,
Stoic,
Physics,
Time
And in this ruin of
Rust, heaped at the Sphinx
Paws,
Bear witness,
Great yawning chasm,
Where floods beat their velvet
Angel wings,
In deciduous susurrations,
As I consider steel and glass,
Passing through pierced flesh,
Parchment, ragged at the bony pate,
To refuse the morphine,
Is knowing
Moments pass,
But a bound receptor
Never forgets
And those who come
Do not speak,
Through their white veils,
And no one comes
And yet the essence remains,
Where my pores hold
Rainwaters,
Strode through,
In routine circuits of
Newtonian motion,
Ever present, in particulate
Waves, yet glimpsed galaxies,
Permeable threads,
Blinking in a symbiotic
Regard,
Across the subatomic
Stratum, ripples the visible
Spectrum, a raised
Oculus regards,
In unfettered awe,
Hands joined in reciprocal
Orbits,
Across silent leagues
Of star ocean,
My Tycho Brahe
Autumn washes toward me,
Lowering a steely rim visor,
Salt shear gathering,
At the corners
A languorous sunset paws
At bruise hewn horizons
In machine soft revolutions
And strange colliding metronomes
Circles drowned in deep
Auburn,
Lines intersect and part
At obtuse angles
As I seek the shallows
Of finite numbers,
And she’s gone
And I rise from the sea,
With the dawn
And she’s gone
..
Staccato
By
Daniel Christensen
Thunderheads are breaking
Over me
Sound,
Shuddering in a silent
Web
There’s certainty, I’ve found
In numbers
A dial ticks
It’s stiff mustachios
Over the headboard,
Upside down,
Or I am
Five days
On the fifth floor
Thirst in the unreachable
Gullies
Of dry bone,
No one comes
Static arcs between fingers
Crawling beneath
Canopus,
Winged,
And white
And shattering,
For reaching
In all kaleidoscopic
Dark
A listening silence,
Mast shattered and dragging,
In the wake,
Neptune pursed
Upon the ragged eyelet
In a torn umbrella
A staring silence
She’s gone
Two days and nights a hollow
Spear, breathes into
Tattered sail,
Listing,
Bespeckled in a blood,
Archipelago
Specters of steam
Curl upwards
From asphalt,
Shining hotly
In dusk light,
Pain huddling beneath
Sparse foliage,
Pressed through fissures
Rise,
Relentless towers,
In ruinous membranes
Of saturation
And to know this is all eternally
Temporary,
Gray white bones rising amidst the
Courser
Blacks, starved of
Summers
Coals
Fingers pressed against windows,
Lips I fucked,
Pursed,
In humid tempest
And to look there again,
And see nothing
And see terrible possibilities,
Arrayed in a questioning arc,
Vertebrae sprawling from her
Arched spine,
Laughing at the emptiness
We’ve suddenly left behind
All names have been shorn
From headstones,
Swallowed,
In this greenwash reclamation,
Stoic,
Physics,
Time
And in this ruin of
Rust, heaped at the Sphinx
Paws,
Bear witness,
Great yawning chasm,
Where floods beat their velvet
Angel wings,
In deciduous susurrations,
As I consider steel and glass,
Passing through pierced flesh,
Parchment, ragged at the bony pate,
To refuse the morphine,
Is knowing
Moments pass,
But a bound receptor
Never forgets
And those who come
Do not speak,
Through their white veils,
And no one comes
And yet the essence remains,
Where my pores hold
Rainwaters,
Strode through,
In routine circuits of
Newtonian motion,
Ever present, in particulate
Waves, yet glimpsed galaxies,
Permeable threads,
Blinking in a symbiotic
Regard,
Across the subatomic
Stratum, ripples the visible
Spectrum, a raised
Oculus regards,
In unfettered awe,
Hands joined in reciprocal
Orbits,
Across silent leagues
Of star ocean,
My Tycho Brahe
Autumn washes toward me,
Lowering a steely rim visor,
Salt shear gathering,
At the corners
A languorous sunset paws
At bruise hewn horizons
In machine soft revolutions
And strange colliding metronomes
Circles drowned in deep
Auburn,
Lines intersect and part
At obtuse angles
As I seek the shallows
Of finite numbers,
And she’s gone
And I rise from the sea,
With the dawn
And she’s gone
..
Staccato
By
Daniel Christensen
Published 1st Sep 2022
Author's Note
Copyright © 2022 by Daniel Christensen. All rights reserved.
For a bit of context to make the write more accessible, above I have woven events together, one recent, one less recent and one even moreso, times I was thinking about recently and their rammifications upon now, what I thought about when I was in the hospital for my car accident injuries, the spear of glass and steel, long needles and the tube that reinflated my lung, the sail, as for metaphors present here, musings on the nature of being from across my span of time and experiences. I hope that is useful, but what is most important, I know, is how you connect to the writing and audio, in your unique way. Tell me, I want to feel you there.
Love and light,
D
For a bit of context to make the write more accessible, above I have woven events together, one recent, one less recent and one even moreso, times I was thinking about recently and their rammifications upon now, what I thought about when I was in the hospital for my car accident injuries, the spear of glass and steel, long needles and the tube that reinflated my lung, the sail, as for metaphors present here, musings on the nature of being from across my span of time and experiences. I hope that is useful, but what is most important, I know, is how you connect to the writing and audio, in your unique way. Tell me, I want to feel you there.
Love and light,
D
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 16
reading list entries 13
comments 24
reads 916
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
1st Sep 2022 6:09pm
Always an event my friend. Don’t have a sycophantic bone in my body, so it makes comment-making that little bit easier. The repeated refrain, and as denouement, “and she’s gone” is fucking heart-breaking. Stabs at the cortex of this thing we call existence. The marriage of the damaged body to the trails of the past, reminds me of “the patient etherized upon a table” of Eliot’s Prufrock. There is a sad, almost resigned, timbre to your voice which compliments the piece.
Author’s note fuels the Heraclitus constant flux that we never step in the same river twice. I never shy of extolling my love of popular music – that song you hear for first time and it entombs the soul in ice-heads. Your poetry delivers similarly. Glorious and good to see you back. Rob
Author’s note fuels the Heraclitus constant flux that we never step in the same river twice. I never shy of extolling my love of popular music – that song you hear for first time and it entombs the soul in ice-heads. Your poetry delivers similarly. Glorious and good to see you back. Rob
4th Sep 2022 3:40pm
The refrain has a few different meanings, each of them like a prayer, trying to let go, knowing in some ways I already have and never will. It was a subject I've touched into several times since, but I think I was creating a kind of summation here, which you've sounded out.
Whenever I'm here and engaging I think of this quote from a silly robot painter in the video game Fallout 4, "Art without honesty is simply politics." lol so many ways that statement is relevant, from propaganda to ingratiation to intent behind the crafting, which we feel and know so much deeper than we can analyze. It's something that leaves me perpetually astounded in the ways people connect to me through my writing, their perspectives that are simultaneously revelatory to me and yet intimately united to my own, it confirms for me myriad times all the truths I find in my spiritual/philosophical explorations, about the living, flowing unity of all energy. I find myself coming to understand things I was conveying that I wasn't even aware of. It's truly a gift and blessing.
I'm honored to have made this connection with you.
Whenever I'm here and engaging I think of this quote from a silly robot painter in the video game Fallout 4, "Art without honesty is simply politics." lol so many ways that statement is relevant, from propaganda to ingratiation to intent behind the crafting, which we feel and know so much deeper than we can analyze. It's something that leaves me perpetually astounded in the ways people connect to me through my writing, their perspectives that are simultaneously revelatory to me and yet intimately united to my own, it confirms for me myriad times all the truths I find in my spiritual/philosophical explorations, about the living, flowing unity of all energy. I find myself coming to understand things I was conveying that I wasn't even aware of. It's truly a gift and blessing.
I'm honored to have made this connection with you.
Hi, DC
When I saw your poem, I felt a surge of exultation because, to me, you had returned. When you have brought your thoughts and emotions to that place at which restrained expression becomes permissible, that is a major accomplishment on the way to resolution, release, and restoration—in a word, revolution.
Your staccato theme pulled me in immediately, because I have had a career in music education and taught for over 10 years at the School of Music in Jamaica. But I know staccato is more than musical articulation; it is heartbeat, experience, changing temperatures, fire, water, desert, ocean, pain, grief, incapacity, and resilience. Not many lives are legato, as we traverse our experiences to remain alive and useful. Perhaps only the idle rich enjoy legato lives—until, one day, the boat crashes in one collective explosive staccato blast.
Your tapestry is of a fertile blend, so seamlessly navigating between life hurdles harvested around a bobbin of strength, sanity, and forbearance. To use a cliché: you have taken your bitter lemons, added the water of meekness and sweetener of faith, and made refreshing lemonade. I could relate with ease, since you at least informed me about the incident with the hit and run car accident, and your time in the hospital. To have battled that, in addition to the other challenges you have mentioned in your interpretive guidelines, is a work in the art of survival against the odds.
The instrumental audio track conveys the sentiments of your journey through the valleys of the shadows of death, sympathising expertly with the vocal ballad of your presence. No one could interpret your words so well by simply thinking through the stanzas of this chamber music ensemble. Every nuance, every pause, every acceleration, timed perfectly to each unfolding moment, contrived to lift literal meaning to an emotional feast, to ultimate resolution, whose denouement is equally shared between poet and audience, for the healing of the breach.
Your “she is gone” motif is a telltale epitaph of the hit and run, I can see. But I believe, in transformation, it may also mean the pain is gone; death, which came so close as to kiss your forehead, has taken backward steps, because it is not your time for his inevitable knock on your door. The following stanza appeals to me significantly, in its oxymoronic punch, and in its conveyance of the image of the phoenix rising from the ashes.
And to know this is all eternally
Temporary,
Gray white bones rising amidst the
Courser
Blacks, starved of
Summers
Coals
Yours sincerely
cab
When I saw your poem, I felt a surge of exultation because, to me, you had returned. When you have brought your thoughts and emotions to that place at which restrained expression becomes permissible, that is a major accomplishment on the way to resolution, release, and restoration—in a word, revolution.
Your staccato theme pulled me in immediately, because I have had a career in music education and taught for over 10 years at the School of Music in Jamaica. But I know staccato is more than musical articulation; it is heartbeat, experience, changing temperatures, fire, water, desert, ocean, pain, grief, incapacity, and resilience. Not many lives are legato, as we traverse our experiences to remain alive and useful. Perhaps only the idle rich enjoy legato lives—until, one day, the boat crashes in one collective explosive staccato blast.
Your tapestry is of a fertile blend, so seamlessly navigating between life hurdles harvested around a bobbin of strength, sanity, and forbearance. To use a cliché: you have taken your bitter lemons, added the water of meekness and sweetener of faith, and made refreshing lemonade. I could relate with ease, since you at least informed me about the incident with the hit and run car accident, and your time in the hospital. To have battled that, in addition to the other challenges you have mentioned in your interpretive guidelines, is a work in the art of survival against the odds.
The instrumental audio track conveys the sentiments of your journey through the valleys of the shadows of death, sympathising expertly with the vocal ballad of your presence. No one could interpret your words so well by simply thinking through the stanzas of this chamber music ensemble. Every nuance, every pause, every acceleration, timed perfectly to each unfolding moment, contrived to lift literal meaning to an emotional feast, to ultimate resolution, whose denouement is equally shared between poet and audience, for the healing of the breach.
Your “she is gone” motif is a telltale epitaph of the hit and run, I can see. But I believe, in transformation, it may also mean the pain is gone; death, which came so close as to kiss your forehead, has taken backward steps, because it is not your time for his inevitable knock on your door. The following stanza appeals to me significantly, in its oxymoronic punch, and in its conveyance of the image of the phoenix rising from the ashes.
And to know this is all eternally
Temporary,
Gray white bones rising amidst the
Courser
Blacks, starved of
Summers
Coals
Yours sincerely
cab
4th Sep 2022 3:45pm
Cab you've given me a deeper understanding of what it was I was doing with this write, the choice of musical score, how the two blend together, and it's something I find invaluable, having been granted the depth and erudition of your perspective here, I find it soul fulfilling and humbling.
The final two paragraphs I wrote under the comment to StrangewaysRob above are equally relevant. You've understood far more than I had hoped, more than I did in the crafting. Thank you.
The final two paragraphs I wrote under the comment to StrangewaysRob above are equally relevant. You've understood far more than I had hoped, more than I did in the crafting. Thank you.
2nd Sep 2022 1:56pm
Dear D,
I think your reader can definitely feel the pain, discomfort, confusion, and loss throughout the poem. The title fits brilliantly because a staccato is an articulation of striking a key in a short detached motion and relating to life and its not so grand events and tribulations is exactly how it can feel. I’m very sorry about your accident and worse the isolation it created with the hospital stay etc. The write is exquisitely written revealing many segmented feelings and sensations I think apply for many of us. It’s wonderful to see you back! For a difficult subject it was excellently written. Your formatting made the read flow very well. X
H🌷
I think your reader can definitely feel the pain, discomfort, confusion, and loss throughout the poem. The title fits brilliantly because a staccato is an articulation of striking a key in a short detached motion and relating to life and its not so grand events and tribulations is exactly how it can feel. I’m very sorry about your accident and worse the isolation it created with the hospital stay etc. The write is exquisitely written revealing many segmented feelings and sensations I think apply for many of us. It’s wonderful to see you back! For a difficult subject it was excellently written. Your formatting made the read flow very well. X
H🌷
4th Sep 2022 3:48pm
Honoria thank you so much. It's truly wonderful to connect with everyone, and it grants meaning and purpose to some of the worse things I was conveying here. Always we are in the midst of joy and sorrow, pain and pleasure, everything happening simultaneously, it's a terrible and beautiful existence. What I wrote in the final paragraphs to Strangeways Rob above is equally relevant to you. Thank you.
Anonymous
- Edited 29th May 2023 7:45am
2nd Sep 2022 5:23pm
<< post removed >>
4th Sep 2022 3:52pm
When I started assembling this piece, it was as yet untitled, the title jumped out at me without my thinking about it, but everyone has been helping me to understand it's relevance to the writing, which is a soul enriching gift. You always reveal such depth of understanding of our interconnections. What I wrote in the closing paragraphs to Strangeways Rob is equally relevant to you. Thank you my friend.
2nd Sep 2022 11:17pm
Great to hear and read one of your poems again, Daniel. The pace of delivery is gripping and conveys the truth of coming from a deep place -- means and ends as 'one-thing'.
I think we're more afraid of life than of death, and the careful language of the poem gave me the imagery of walking a tightrope between the two, which I'm sure it was literally, as well as figuratively in the composition.
Stay tuned in, best regards, Josh.
I think we're more afraid of life than of death, and the careful language of the poem gave me the imagery of walking a tightrope between the two, which I'm sure it was literally, as well as figuratively in the composition.
Stay tuned in, best regards, Josh.
4th Sep 2022 3:54pm
Josh it's great to hear from you as well. You've given me a more full understanding of what I was feeling and my intention in crafting this write. It can be difficult to look at what it is we're truly afraid of. What I wrote to Strangeways Rob above is equally relevant to you. Thank you for connecting with me here.
I love taking my time with your poetry.... letting it marinade and soak through into all my little sensitive nooks and crannies. It's hearty tendrils wrap me up in it's potent affects of kinship and eloquent human heartache. I read it a few times, deeply love getting my heart perfectly broken by the impactful emotional abundant 'mise-en-scène', if you will. Then the pièce de resistance that brings the entirety of the dense beautiful poetic landscape into high-definition clarity, is your audio.
I first try to read along as I listen; quickly give up, as your voice takes ahold. l know I'll lose myself listening and bask hearty in that knowledge. Definitively rapt, I find myself ensnared by the raw brute emotion that flavors each word and peppers the recording in an almost hauntingly profound way. Even now, I can still hear your voice's inflection upon your chosen repeated line "and she is gone." The sheer depth of feeling is massive and a line that still resonates within. It's metaphoric usage, a true poetic triumph.
Just some small takeaways, as there's so much vast and glorious architecture here.
To say it's a pleasure to once again have your poetry at the ready, is putting it mildly.
What an exhilarating heady and exquisite treat, Daniel.
I am reminded of how lucky we are to have you with us, adding your voice.
(Missed you, my dear)
🌹 - 💙
I first try to read along as I listen; quickly give up, as your voice takes ahold. l know I'll lose myself listening and bask hearty in that knowledge. Definitively rapt, I find myself ensnared by the raw brute emotion that flavors each word and peppers the recording in an almost hauntingly profound way. Even now, I can still hear your voice's inflection upon your chosen repeated line "and she is gone." The sheer depth of feeling is massive and a line that still resonates within. It's metaphoric usage, a true poetic triumph.
Just some small takeaways, as there's so much vast and glorious architecture here.
To say it's a pleasure to once again have your poetry at the ready, is putting it mildly.
What an exhilarating heady and exquisite treat, Daniel.
I am reminded of how lucky we are to have you with us, adding your voice.
(Missed you, my dear)
🌹 - 💙
4th Sep 2022 4:48pm
Your audio work has really brought wonderful dimensions across as well. I have been short in review and messages because my lower back and hip joints have been acting up a bit. I just took a break from replying to lay down and read and then I made a fruit smoothie.
Thank you so much for putting so much feeling and consideration into your experience with the work, it's meaningful to me in the most soul enriching way. What I wrote to Strangeways Rob in the final paragraphs of my reply above applies equally to you. It's a joy to be here when I can. I was texting with a friend about the construction of this write and my technique overall last night and I was planning to send if to you before I sign out for the day, though I'm going to be on again tomorrow.
Thank you so much for putting so much feeling and consideration into your experience with the work, it's meaningful to me in the most soul enriching way. What I wrote to Strangeways Rob in the final paragraphs of my reply above applies equally to you. It's a joy to be here when I can. I was texting with a friend about the construction of this write and my technique overall last night and I was planning to send if to you before I sign out for the day, though I'm going to be on again tomorrow.
4th Sep 2022 4:52pm
Yes, Please send it, whichever is easier for you. Just know I'm incredibly interested!
Thanks;)
🌹
Thanks;)
🌹
6th Sep 2022 3:51am
I actually shed a few tears on this one. We all can relate in some way here, all of us. This hit me hard. I totally love you for sharing this. <3 Hope you are well, babe. <3
15th Sep 2022 5:14pm
Thank you. 💖 Doing alright sugah. I tell people when we're talking about writing, when you speak from the voice of your pure humanity, we are able to hear it our own voice, feel it in our own heart. It's something I hope to achieve and experience in everything I write and read.
18th Sep 2022 6:15am
I could only dream of being on the same level of writer as you. When I read what you write, I feel it Thats why were all here, isnt it? Thanks for always sharing. love ya. <3
It's so good to see you Daniel, you were missed. I am sorry to hear you are still suffering from the accident. It was obviously a really bad one, the kind that makes you think about mortality and life. So thankful you are still here with us and all my best wishes for your continued recovery. As for the audio, it's incredible as always and the words... well let me try to capture some thoughts for you on that. Sorry this turned out to be pretty long.
I absolutely love the intense imagery. Somehow the delicate beauty of silky threads of life holding up to the booms of thunders overhead. Vibrating silently as if playing a tune about how fragile life is, but also showing the incredible strength and resilience.
"There's certainty, I've found In numbers" As someone who works a lot with statistics, correlations, patterns, and all forms of information to anticipate requirements and needs this line was exceptionally meaningful. Sometimes it's very easy to see things in the numbers that are almost always overlooked. Often people will say how did you know or come to that conclusion and the answer is in the numbers.
I definitely got the feeling of being in a hospital bed from the next part. 'Upside down, Or I am' I get the feeling of confusion from this. Disoriented. Five days on the fifth floor, and unreachable gullies definitely gave me the cold feel of a hospital where perhaps it seems like you are the only one there. It feels dark and lonely, and faced with this mortality and all the thoughts that accompany that. Thinking of the people that rely on you. I imagined the hallways being dark and lifeless as if in Limbo waiting for judgement. Are you worthy to keep living? What will this judgement bring?
That white sterile feel of this place and perhaps the wings are that of an angel, perhaps here to take you. 'In all kaleidoscopic dark' Absolutely beautiful imagery of this constantly changing beautiful kaleidoscope representing so many shades of black and grey. The mirrors reflecting so many dark thoughts but also the beauty of life that can only be found in the darkness sometimes.
'Mast shattered and dragging' has the feel of a broken body to me. 'She's gone' initially made me feel like there was a fatality so I truly hope that wasn't the case. But I see how that could mean so many other things as well.
'hollow Spear, breathes' made me think of the spears of glass puncturing a lung. blood, Archipelago is another amazing image like your blood painted this beautiful pattern of islands in crimson. Perhaps each one means something different. You have to wonder if your tattered sail can carry you forward on this journey of life or will you sink.
The specters of steam and asphalt taking me back to the moment of accident where time seemed to stand still. The intensity of pain and fissures dominating the mind and body. It feels like remembering it vividly while in the hospital. So many incredible expressions of mortality. Fingers pressed against the window, stuck in this nightmare... but peaceful in a way. It reminds me of this time whitewater rafting where I was caught by a hydraulic that slammed me to the bottom and held me there with incredible force. But while I was down there it was the most peaceful time of my life that I remember. The guys threw a rope with buoy down the hydraulic and I was able to grab that so they were able to pull me out. Everyone was pretty freaked out but me I suppose.
'Vertebrae sprawling from her arched spine" Again, I first read this more literally as someone else involved the accident that was very badly or fatally wounded. I truly hope it is more symbolism, that everyone has recovered to the fullest extent possible and will continue to get better.
Again with the expression of the mathematical equation of life. I love the incorporation of physics so incredibly illustrated by the destruction conveyed in your vivid imagery. Physics and time are absolutes. They both teach us that there are some things that just don't change.
'bound receptor Never forgets' My first thought is of drugs or even things that act like drugs such as the thrill of exhibitionism, BDSM, and other things. Each of these addictive in it's own right. They can modify our perception and reality perhaps forgetting our mortality while also testing it. Made me think of this time I got injured and on the way to the hospital I kept laughing. I can only think that a huge amount of endorphins were released which caused that response.
Followed again by so much on mortality, and the mysteries of life. 'Hand joined in reciprocal Orbits" seems like all these people we come into contact with during our life. Even the paramedics, nurses, doctors, others involved in accident, lovers, friends, etc... Swimming in this ocean of stars that defines our existence.
And again back to the mathematics of it with geometry, obtuse angles, and finite numbers expressing the loss.
Anyway, I saw a lot in this so I wanted to try and give you more feedback but it's always hard because the writing can take you in so many different directions. :)
I absolutely love the intense imagery. Somehow the delicate beauty of silky threads of life holding up to the booms of thunders overhead. Vibrating silently as if playing a tune about how fragile life is, but also showing the incredible strength and resilience.
"There's certainty, I've found In numbers" As someone who works a lot with statistics, correlations, patterns, and all forms of information to anticipate requirements and needs this line was exceptionally meaningful. Sometimes it's very easy to see things in the numbers that are almost always overlooked. Often people will say how did you know or come to that conclusion and the answer is in the numbers.
I definitely got the feeling of being in a hospital bed from the next part. 'Upside down, Or I am' I get the feeling of confusion from this. Disoriented. Five days on the fifth floor, and unreachable gullies definitely gave me the cold feel of a hospital where perhaps it seems like you are the only one there. It feels dark and lonely, and faced with this mortality and all the thoughts that accompany that. Thinking of the people that rely on you. I imagined the hallways being dark and lifeless as if in Limbo waiting for judgement. Are you worthy to keep living? What will this judgement bring?
That white sterile feel of this place and perhaps the wings are that of an angel, perhaps here to take you. 'In all kaleidoscopic dark' Absolutely beautiful imagery of this constantly changing beautiful kaleidoscope representing so many shades of black and grey. The mirrors reflecting so many dark thoughts but also the beauty of life that can only be found in the darkness sometimes.
'Mast shattered and dragging' has the feel of a broken body to me. 'She's gone' initially made me feel like there was a fatality so I truly hope that wasn't the case. But I see how that could mean so many other things as well.
'hollow Spear, breathes' made me think of the spears of glass puncturing a lung. blood, Archipelago is another amazing image like your blood painted this beautiful pattern of islands in crimson. Perhaps each one means something different. You have to wonder if your tattered sail can carry you forward on this journey of life or will you sink.
The specters of steam and asphalt taking me back to the moment of accident where time seemed to stand still. The intensity of pain and fissures dominating the mind and body. It feels like remembering it vividly while in the hospital. So many incredible expressions of mortality. Fingers pressed against the window, stuck in this nightmare... but peaceful in a way. It reminds me of this time whitewater rafting where I was caught by a hydraulic that slammed me to the bottom and held me there with incredible force. But while I was down there it was the most peaceful time of my life that I remember. The guys threw a rope with buoy down the hydraulic and I was able to grab that so they were able to pull me out. Everyone was pretty freaked out but me I suppose.
'Vertebrae sprawling from her arched spine" Again, I first read this more literally as someone else involved the accident that was very badly or fatally wounded. I truly hope it is more symbolism, that everyone has recovered to the fullest extent possible and will continue to get better.
Again with the expression of the mathematical equation of life. I love the incorporation of physics so incredibly illustrated by the destruction conveyed in your vivid imagery. Physics and time are absolutes. They both teach us that there are some things that just don't change.
'bound receptor Never forgets' My first thought is of drugs or even things that act like drugs such as the thrill of exhibitionism, BDSM, and other things. Each of these addictive in it's own right. They can modify our perception and reality perhaps forgetting our mortality while also testing it. Made me think of this time I got injured and on the way to the hospital I kept laughing. I can only think that a huge amount of endorphins were released which caused that response.
Followed again by so much on mortality, and the mysteries of life. 'Hand joined in reciprocal Orbits" seems like all these people we come into contact with during our life. Even the paramedics, nurses, doctors, others involved in accident, lovers, friends, etc... Swimming in this ocean of stars that defines our existence.
And again back to the mathematics of it with geometry, obtuse angles, and finite numbers expressing the loss.
Anyway, I saw a lot in this so I wanted to try and give you more feedback but it's always hard because the writing can take you in so many different directions. :)
15th Sep 2022 5:21pm
Thank you. It really means a lot to me, to see so much of where I was going with this. And to take so much time to explain your experience, it's the most amazing gift, because it allows me to experience the writing in a new way, through your perspective.
It seems like we pass through so much of our lives distracted and rushing. I avoid so many collisions on a regular basis. There was no fatality in the accident thankfully. You hit on the experience giving me pause to think about my life, life in general, people I had lost. The five days alone in that room, 2 of them unable to move from the bed, I thought about the love I had lost a few years back, where we might have been at that point if I hadn't fucked it all up, I pictured her coming in and sitting with me, and ever since that loss and earlier heartache in my life, to wake in the morning and that sober realization comes to the forefront sooner or later, that I'll never see her again, it's a kind of death.
I'll try to be around here and there. *hugs*
It seems like we pass through so much of our lives distracted and rushing. I avoid so many collisions on a regular basis. There was no fatality in the accident thankfully. You hit on the experience giving me pause to think about my life, life in general, people I had lost. The five days alone in that room, 2 of them unable to move from the bed, I thought about the love I had lost a few years back, where we might have been at that point if I hadn't fucked it all up, I pictured her coming in and sitting with me, and ever since that loss and earlier heartache in my life, to wake in the morning and that sober realization comes to the forefront sooner or later, that I'll never see her again, it's a kind of death.
I'll try to be around here and there. *hugs*
15th Sep 2022 9:29pm
We've all dealt with pain and grief at one point or another but you bring a sense of spirituality and logic. Given the notes, I didn't know how badly you were injured in your accident, and that those hours spent recovering gives you a deeper perspective and reflection. Amazing work as always, profound and unique in your own style.
6th Oct 2022 2:19pm
Thank you brother. I suppose we go through these things and can either shrink or grow, we always have choice, even when the choice is how to react where we have no choice.
26th Sep 2022 10:31pm
Such an Amazing & intriguingly beautiful, highly visual, thought provoking, most wondrous & masterly crafted or freely spilled out write SIR CHRISTENSEN!!!
6th Oct 2022 2:18pm
5th Feb 2023 12:08pm
I am still absorbing all the wonderful metaphors presented here! Loved it very much.
5th Feb 2023 12:12pm
💖🙏🏻 I appreciate your presence Paulo. I've got something new underway, I woke from dreams at 6am to continue the writing.
