Rearranging Spaces

Read that quite a number of times. Very dreamy, pondering, rolling into renewal. I loved it.

Jeez, what a beautiful stanza...

Awake in the far away
Morning origami enfolds
Sun into the dark nests,
Tiles of light lift hibernation
Unto anticipation head-spins

morning origami enfolds sun into dark nests.....a paragraph in one sentence. Brilliant.
I am bowing while forward rolling my hand in admiration.

I love reading yet another person say it's a full paragraph in one sentence. That's what drew me here. Lol
Pretty sure  I am ever leaving!

Sorry to hijack your comment BITS.  I just had to agree  🙂  by the way just discovered your stuff. Omgosh!!!! 🙂 new stuff to wander in! Yay!!

Many thanks BITS. Truly appreciated. Think that stanza was scribbled munching a cheese & tomato sandwich, against the backdrop of a soul-sapping soap opera. Must have found the right ingredients. Rob

The first stanza is enough really to impart an image imbued with dimensions of presence and emotion, it's an alchemical metaphor that's breath taking.  

Your second stanza has such a succinct proportion of lacunae, its equally impacting. It seems to me it's much easier and simpler to notice what's there, rather than what's missing. Everything passes from here to memory where a shadow slants against the wall, changing the air pressure, then from memory to where only gods and prophets gaze.  

Each stanza rotates the perspective in such a way its like each is its own chapter, yet united in elegy to past, remembrance, passion in its melancholy skins of animal abandon and the divinity like a trembling candle flame beneath the surface, dancing on a sinking wick, into the endless cycles our brief lives repeat, sun and it's reverse, death and birth, these distances we traverse by counting time, footprints in dust, torrents of rain leaving everything cleanly erased.  

There's this show I like Yellowstone. A woman says, Heaven is here. Hell is here too. Its one of those things you knew before someone articulated it for you.  

There's a violent ghost moving throughout the whole, and I remember why a poltergeist is terrifying to people, not because of what it is, but because of what it was.

Once again my friend, your insights are truly appreciated. It makes the the whole writing process almost feel worthwhile. Rob

This is beautiful.  Urgent
 
I am rusty, the iron and bone of me  
is weathered  
I still will leave a glass jar to soak up  beams at midnight  
And in the morning inhale the origami clouds  
and exhale colorful *chaotic* dreams  
 
"I woke in the dark and came to find you"  
Did you stub your toe? Stumble?  
 
Next time they come to visit.. Kick those ghosts in the shin!!!!    
 
(Fucking Welshmen. Geez. making me attempt poetic responses when I am happy with my consistent Wait What's!!??)  
 
Edit. Dylan Thomas??!!!! REALLY? 💕

I refrained from replying earlier for fear of decency laws. You know, Rob

Will the strangers who fuck in my haunted spaces
Handrail the walls, finger the oaken door hinges,
Left slightly open to stained absence of passion, lived?

… this is such a glorious moment of thought and it got me thinking all kinds of scenarios that may occur when I shuffle off this mortal coil. There was something beautifully human about it. The clash of that with the eternal message of living for the now makes this entire piece a resounding siren.

It was worthy. It was.

Truly appreciated Morbs. Thank you. Yip, as the decades storm past, the urgency becomes that, well, more urgent! Rob

I have to stand on other books, when I read your material.  When you write, you're tall as hell.  

This is a cornucopia of visualizations, that makes my eyes wide with understanding.

Damn.  

You are always very generous with your comments Styx. Thank you. Believe me  my friend, the respect is highly reciprocated. Rob