An aloof cryptographer, nexus point braille reader of neuron labyrinths, sends out optical fibers to sense within memory. Outside the vectors, of logic gate impressions hyper-linked in magnetic domains, a sight of hazel keys releases these mahogany locks. The heart has been too long ensnared in a mental tower of solitude, within this ivory scholasticism. Look for the soft pink aureole, reminds the auricle. Foreshadowing melts this blight of hoarfrost, as the rejuvenating breath of a glowing lover disables all defenses. Molten streams escape eyelashes as she begins her fire dance, searing through layers of black ice, the dragon of conceptual treasures writhes trying to protect guarded feelings. Before turning up the heat she dons brazen armor of leather and copper-scale. An ambidextrous light-show ensues as she whirls her fire-dipped poi chains, limitlessly purifying the inner currents.
Good poem, but I thought it lost some momentum toward the end. Very complex language, holds the interest very well. Shows lots of creativity. Some of the visual elements might be better constructed to draw more distinct images in the mind. It has a gratifying flow to it, though, with lots of interesting twists and turns.
Very useful info, OneUndone. Yes, the end leaves quite a bit of room for the imagination. Thank you for the comments on creativity and the gratifying flow. Sure the images could be focused or sharpened, which ones caught your eye as being blurry. This is one of the wonderful aspects of the poetry forum, the constructive feedback that leads to better poetry.
Well, this is nothing personal at all, but I'm not a poetry critic, and tend not to like poetry criticism of any detail. My comments were offered less as criticism, and more just as concepts that I've considered in my own work and found to be helpful. Obviously, everything depends on what the poet intends, and improvements are not improvements at all if they depart from the intent of the poet. About imagistic poetry though, sometimes just a little space can be a big factor in the developement of in image in the mind's eye of the reader. It's not necessarily a matter of focus. Negative spaces play as big a role as any proponents. Anyway, I can never resist to talk about images, as I find the imagination endlessly fascinating. Sorry I can't be more specific, and people see that as a weakness in criticisms, but I personally find vague criticisms to be more valuable in poetry. I wouldn't want to presume to be able to write the poem better than it's originator. It seems to me that poetry is cheapened by close dissection, and there are so many angles that a poet can take on an idea. I even feel guilty offering loose criticisms sometimes, as poems take on a life of their own in the mind of the poet. Don't take my words seriously, as they are there to accept of reject based on your own experience. I enjoyed the poem thoroughly, though, and thanks for posting it.
enjoyed this alot, sylvan! it seems to depart a little from your usual style.... a little more surreal, almost. I liked how all the images used were of a scientific style in the beginning and then of a more earthly or mystical nature in the end; it made for a nice contrast. thanks for sharing it great stanza!!
Wow, Oneundone, thank you for your expansive insights. I really do value your effort and will continue to let your offering sink in.
"Foreshadowing melts this blight of hoarfrost, as the rejuvenating breath of a glowing lover disables all defenses." I love how poetry hits certain chords within - this could be a summation of my surrender to love. I love a poem that makes me have to close my eyes and visualize!
i love this puzzel of life and love in words... you should follow on with more... lovenpeace from saff
Call to rise Awakened to shards, these silent splinters drip with the ashen agony of a long crippled sleepwalk. Battered and beaten, the heart softly glows with hopeful embers of newly gathered virtues. My love, my child, echoes the call, it is time to arise; accept the mantle of duty. For the Greatest Work is that of actualizing the eternal essence; we were all surrendered to the great initialization of birth. Open in humble majesty, child of the ethereal vistas, take your rightful place in the secret heart. For it has been said that 'the mind and the body are famous for holding the heart ransom,' and you are the new torch-bearer. As I awoke, to the unity of All That Is, my depression turned to dharmic anger, what you would call divine cause. No longer conditioned, by the justice standard of men, my friends now speak with multi-species tongues. Each star caresses me, with fond remembrance, as insects and plants whisper priceless secret medicines... a balm of interlaced vulnerabilities fragile continuum of light bodies changing free-flow in energetic eddies, my since of I dissolves into limitlessness. Thus I marveled in awe at the darkened intelligence grasping the land with ignorance, the suffocation of controlling debts. Tears stream down my cheeks as I see holy gardeners lost, in the mindless amusements and illusionary material pursuits. A residue from the age of darkness still clinging like pre-programed routines clanking on in slumbering awkwardness; I shout in urgent compassion... into void. Please come play, for all the doors are open. Let us dream together a waking dream of remembrance. As opalescent clouds, of luminescent clarity, a new combination is tried to unlock the same old chains. We are unbounded light, with wings of imagination, gifted with the freedom of shape-shifting passions.
it is indeed alot of work but so worth it when you get there... its so hard to remember though in the clutter and chaos within ones own experiences....hard to seperate from them.... very beautiful....your words work like an indian charmer on my own serpentine parts, charming them into gentleness and love.
