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ifyouplease's (ifyouplease on UKA) UKArchive
62 Archived submissions found.
Title
Your own (posted on: 27-05-16)
to Yannis and Char

There is no road that's not created by the path of your choice. There is no choice that's not instigated by the necessity of your needs. There are few needs that are necessarily your own, and they are extinguishable.
Archived comments for Your own
Kipper on 02-06-2016
Your own
Your Own. Three positive statements to consider.
No doubt about the first two, but the third had me thinking for it contains two parts, the first of which is, like those before, easily acceptable. The last line however introduces a connundrum which so far I have not solved.
A very interesting concept well presented. Perhaps time, or you, will enlighten me.
Michael.

Author's Reply:
extinguishable needs, you can always extinguish even your real needs those that are necessarily your own before you proceed with choosing. what would you do then? no need to choose also any more. you can look back and see how many times have you chosen a path in life based on your own needs. it's about self-examination. the goal is enlightenment. enlightenment cannot happen if you don't distinguish which needs are your own and extinguish the ones that are. what's not really your own why should it be part of your life after all. what's really your own is extinguishable once you take control, once you become enlightened.

Kipper on 02-06-2016
Your own
Your Own. Three positive statements to consider.
No doubt about the first two, but the third had me thinking for it contains two parts, the first of which is, like those before, easily acceptable. The last line however introduces a connundrum which so far I have not solved.
A very interesting concept well presented. Perhaps time, or you, will enlighten me.
Michael.

Author's Reply:
about the three positive statements, actually it 2:1. 2 negative and 1 positive. the positive is the most difficult to achieve. so intentionally i wrote

there is no road
there is no choice
there are few needs

to describe exactly what we all mortals experience and those who achieve the positive statement experience enlightenment too. only the last strophe is positive, the other two are negative (alluring yes, charming, part of "life" evil or not). being mortal is trapped in some sort of enticing duality, this or that, when there IS in reality only one truth about oneself - one can extinguish his own needs before making any choice. can we sacrifice our mortality's temptations for enlightenment? permanent zen in the now.

pdemitchell on 02-06-2016
Your own
Powerful short comment-piece - which I enjoyed as poking thought-provoking often does. Mitch

Author's Reply:
thank you Mitch

Nic

Rosco on 24-06-2016
Your own
Saw that last line coming from the scope of your weapon.

Author's Reply:
my father has been promoted. recently.


The Rounds (posted on: 23-05-16)    
2

They gathered before sunrise, to pump water into pails. Heads covered with fichus; hair pillow warm from sleeping. While filling them no questions no greetings. No order than those of lateness and earliness. They're more like shadows. One by one, they go home winding up the acclivitous road. Even the lasses will look old, hunching their shoulders, some having humped delicate amphorae. First round of the day, the pitcher goes so often to the well, at last it breaks. Later the scene changes, another water litany develops. All the heads uncovered- but the mourning ones- full of energy and curiosity. They want to socialize and gossip under the midday sun. The funny wrinkles - the laughter and laughers, they're more like human now. The third round, slower, dusk makes them paranoid, the things they spoke of today about their lives, the husbands, the fiances, the lovers; whatever had to do with them should have remained unconfessed. They're more like women now, reinstated.
Archived comments for The Rounds
stormwolf on 24-05-2016
The Rounds
Deep, painful and masterly.
Alison x

Author's Reply:
๐Ÿ™‚
xxx

pdemitchell on 25-05-2016
The Rounds
Well, ya made me consult a dictiornary for the first time in years and not once but TWICE! Fichus = a woman's triangular scarf of lightweight fabric, worn over the shoulders and crossed or tied in a loose knot at the breast. Acclivitous = an upward slope, as of ground; an ascent (as opposed to declivity)from the latin acclīvitās. Great narrative and sense of movement in the descriptive. Mitch

Author's Reply:
thank you Mitch - i hope you find the new two words inspiring for you too!
Nic

Mikeverdi on 25-05-2016
The Rounds
I've read this several times now, each getting better. You weave the story around the reader, holding us until its told...and we are breathless. I much admire your work on both posts this week.
Thanks for the read.
Mike

Author's Reply:
village women! as i call them in greek agria xoria αγρια χωριά wild village people so to speak!
ehehe
x thanks

Rosco on 24-06-2016
The Rounds
Masterful, both intuitively and poetically. It bears your mark.

Author's Reply:
i think it is too polished. too meticulously honed.


The Grim Road (posted on: 23-05-16)
3

They've been traveling this road Telling people they must be loved, When they saw him coming –thought After thought, tall getting taller—and They asked him: Where are you going? What kind of men and women Have you so far encountered and Would you kindly love us? It seemed to them at this time On this road that he was somebody Unusually important. He inspected them In turn and leaning in said: "You are the only children on this journey Of course I will ... —one day. Wait for me over there, see that cypress hill?" They said yes, and asked: Are you Death Perhaps, or a wizard who can free? Lowering his eyes he replied, "I could be both But I am just me. Are you the eternal Orphan lovers, Adam and Eve?" No, the girl replied, this is my brother, His name is Hansel and I am Gretel, Did you not know this? Could you not feel it In the colours of our dream?
Archived comments for The Grim Road
stormwolf on 24-05-2016
The Grim Road
Hi Nic,
I feel I cannot interpret this poem in full but it has a very allegorical feel to it. So many now are expressing the collective unconscious in their writings and poems. It left me, as so many of your poems do , with a feeling of disquiet.
There is (to me) desperation in it and also desperate futile hope...
I cannot imagine what life is like in Greece now.
love
Alison xx

Author's Reply:
life on the planet is unbearably ridiculous and life in Greece is ridiculously unbearable or vice versa.

Dum spiro spero
thanks Alison

Nicxxx

pdemitchell on 24-05-2016
The Grim Road
Hi Nic - I loves a bit of surreal, I does. I am not sure if Cypress Hill is the hip-hop group or the town but I can sure taste gingerbread when I sleep lulled to slumber by the squeaking of the witches in the microwave.... Mitch

Author's Reply:
i don't know about other cultures but in Greek culture cypress is inextricably connected with cemeteries i think i should edit this particular line finally. thank you Mitch

Nic

Mikeverdi on 25-05-2016
The Grim Road
This is surreal for me, I don't always need to understand everything to appreciate the writing...and I like this. I'm sorry that Greece finds itself in a bad place with its economy. I have so many happy memories of my times there. We can only hope for better days. If I had the money I would be back in a flash, lets hope the tourists return.
Mike

Author's Reply:
a month ago a person a friend of mine knows quit a bit that knows someone who wishes to remain anonymous obviously said that we will exit the eurozone by mid summer and the new currency will be called Phoenix. that same anonymous person warned a year ago that there would soon be capital control and it happened. so let's see.

thanks Mike!

Rosco on 24-06-2016
The Grim Road
Love the jarring effect of combining disparate mythologies done with such wit and modesty. I hope you never lose touch with the 15-year-old savant who controls your personal Delphi. Glad to see you writing in top form.

Author's Reply:
this is an old poem, once upon a time Bektron edited it. personal Delphi. hmm, we have a personal Troy, a personal Ithaca, a personal Sparta, a personal Golgotha - who controls all these places simultaneously?


Script no more (posted on: 23-11-15)
surreal - to C.D.

To ask or not to ask "To live or not to live", To open or not to open your heart, To pen or not to pen your thoughts, To watch or not to watch the end of everything To touch or not to touch a corpse To lift or not to lift Fate's bridal veil She waits for my straight words, and answer her androgynous prayers, masculine promises and feminine vows to echo in the vast casket called universe. Both facing each other, not the Truth Part of an evil 2:1 ceremony far from reality, knowing it is a godlike right a Creator to seal such newlyweds inside of a reincarnating coffin What should we be doing from now on, and what we should not To ask, live, open, and pen at least and maybe temporarily? I had to fight to not fight, I had to lose to not lose dear Fate long before you and I were scripted. I guess you shouldn't be looking forward to us getting married again in order to breed more destiny.
Archived comments for Script no more
Gothicman on 24-11-2015
Script no more
Good to see you're in full flight, IYP, in spite of all the stresses and challenges, feels good you're in a mood of consequence, still wanting to express how you feel.
A special type of poetry. Another intriguing read.
Goth

Author's Reply:
i just tried to write a poem after months a poem that has my thoughts and my style but it has to be edited, this is just a draft work in progress etc, but it felt great to write a brand new poem again.
feel free to offer advanced critique!

thanks Goth


A Doting Poetess (posted on: 23-11-15)    
to C.D.

I can feel my noetic virility trapped in the strophic womb of my mistress, the one who likes paper cuts, the cuts that dehypnotize my hand from writing more thoughts. Drained, I watch her texture absorb the frisky shapes of my linguistic sperm. Filled, she rests exposing my writing to ready and unready souls. I'm nothing but a monthly bleeding witness to her unexpected sharpness, always ridiculously surprised by the aggressive way she makes me stop. Discouraged by her invincible thinness, I answer to her unspoken invitation, unable to defy my throbbing devotion, behaving like a male when my pen, erected, points at her unwritten whiteness. She, eclipsed by the shadow of my ideal identity, stoically tolerates my intellectual ejaculations, as nothing can surmount her predisposition to infertility or her contraceptive efforts. I, chained to my visions, shall pin my faith on golden commas, while I gulp her silent space between my words, daring to dote on our justified inability to bring into a male world our androgynous scions. 2003 - 2005
Archived comments for A Doting Poetess
Nomenklatura on 23-11-2015
A Doting Poetess
Don't think I have a comment that won't sound facile or banal. A splendid poem.

Author's Reply:
thanks!

Gothicman on 24-11-2015
A Doting Poetess
Lucky C.D. IYP, very special wording, intriguing to we, the rest.
You at your best.
Goth

Author's Reply:
an old poem slightly edited in 2005, i don't know if it has been included in an anthology, probably not, C.D. is dead.

thank you very much Goth

Supratik on 25-11-2015
A Doting Poetess
Intriguing... the poem is disturbingly handsome.

Author's Reply:
yes disturbingly charming and perhaps moderately truthful. thanks!

Rosco on 24-06-2016
A Doting Poetess
This isn't a poem; it's a manifesto poetically stated. The engine of half your work. The philosophy is wrestled to the ground, so the lyric line has license to lash and stun; in the other half, the philosophy strangles vice and inconstancy while the lyric line heels like a well-trained purebred.

Author's Reply:
this poem came too early, the entire poem is some sort of premature ejaculation of the intellect, i was clearly trying to mate with poetry but unfortunately my excitement overcame me with some sort of singular brainstorming.


Reflections (posted on: 28-09-15)
a version of a version of a version

A poet stops writing In the middle of a poem, Looks at his scribbling. Turns the page, And finds a hidden message Invisible to readers: Chin resting in his hand, He notices that spaces Are filled with ignorance, Overdecorated with commas Moving like worms.
Archived comments for Reflections
gwirionedd on 30-09-2015
Reflections
Nice...

But perhaps you could find a more expressive verb than "moving"...?



Author's Reply:
that was a quick edit of an old version, moving was better than Looking like and by changing Looking i had a brand new version of the version's version.

do worms move thinking of a particular movement they are supposed to do? i just realized something about the hidden message. they just move without any idea if it's up or down, left or right. it's so easy, took me five years to see what i was saying. *laughs at Self*

gwirionedd on 01-10-2015
Reflections
I really couldn't say about the cognitive processes of worms, Nic. It's nothing I've ever thought about at length.

But I do know that they wriggle.



Author's Reply:
that was my second choice, but since it's "commas" commas in order to describe their surreal movement they move like worms so we imagine them wriggling.

Rosco on 24-06-2016
Reflections
'A Doting Poetess' seems to have countless progeny.

Author's Reply:
i'll have to think more about it.


The chosen dummies (posted on: 01-06-15)
without italics this time. less surreal part of very surreal parts.

Out in the dark valley of the night pitch black moments glue to each other, a constant subtle tremor's energy anticipates the twisted habit of the missing sun to change the spectrum of the things the days have done. Who now thinks therefore I am? Refreshing with his conscious cogitation my being all the time while I'm asleep? One of his dummies takes my place, am I replaced, or are there many I's scattered in dependent timelines? And more importantly when did we extrapolate the sun's return as scheduled, hadn't we witnessed his insane departure every dusk, all he ever leaves behind is a bipolar room for doubt. We dream the past when we're awake, and sleep throughout the now. It is as if the sun was what Shakespeare may have had in mind, "to be or not to be" was the bottom-line. Although Spiritus ubi vult spirat, a poet knows that here it's always dark, a poet listens to the ventriloquist's heartbeat, reversed replayed reechoed in slow motion, a pattern torn by chosen ones who don't come back to shatter any myth or spoil the dummies' dream and cut the prince's tongue and arm. Such is the only deal for a real life, kidnapping your fake self in Now's broad daylight, one dummy less, missing from the drama and never looking back.
Archived comments for The chosen dummies
deadpoet on 02-06-2015
The chosen dummies
This strikes me as slightly escapist- but surreal is never to be analysed fully- it's always described with tangible words and , in a paintig with often, recognizable objects. Distorted realism . I like this analogy with the dummie. As a surreal poem it is very good.

Author's Reply:
i reposted it because i think it deserves to stand alone too, without being part of the other parts that who knows how they are going to develop (it's now part of The Thud which can be found here, the dummies the ventriloquist etc are also the main characters of The Thud - The wise dummies and a dervish is the key found in In Return)

this one is less surreal and more direct than the others, more philosophical in a sci fi manner which will become obvious in the future.

thanks for reading it and commenting and rating, of course anything surreal cannot be analysed fully not even by the writer. i agree.

Nic

stormwolf on 02-06-2015
The chosen dummies
Hi Nic,
I loved this one first time round and love it even more now. It takes many readings to decipher the meaning...and I dare say I still have some to go but so many fantastic lines here i think it is one of your very best.
The first stanza is full of deep, dark observation. The voice is one of awareness and warning.
It is IMHO so good it could stand alone easily.

The second goes on to philosophise about life and the meaning of being alive and our place in it.

Third stanza demonstrates a very deep thinker. Someone who will never be content to say that things are..because others say that they are...I so relate!

4th stanza starts off with these incredible lines

'We dream the past when we're awake,
and sleep throughout the now. '

Bloody brilliant! ๐Ÿ˜‰

Although Spiritus ubi vult spirat,
a poet knows that here it's always dark,

again...words fail me as it speaks to a part of me that its so often best kept hidden. I am not too sure about the remaining lines in this stanza
Who exactly is the ventriloquist?

The last stanza is classic

Such is the only deal for a real life,
kidnapping your fake self in Now's broad daylight,
one dummy less, missing from the drama
and never looking back.

While maybe not even understanding exactly what the real meaning is..the feeling that came across to me was very moving and really spoke to me.
I think if reading correctly...it's something I so look forward to..being one dummy less.
While doing this appraisal I see you have been nibbed. I could not be happier. An incredible work of art.

Alison xxx

Author's Reply:
who is NOT the ventriloquist? that is the question
can you imagine Hamlet holding Yorick's skull and saying To be or not to be or Alas Poor Hamlet as a ventriloquist? (the theater attracts me more and more. in a pleasantly spooky way.)


the sun, imagine someone holding a rock the only remnant of Earth, To shine or not to shine? Alas Poor Earth and then Alas Poor Sun.

the self that has lost the real Ego, a self with a fake Ego, we keep looking at empty holes where the eyes used to be, full of life holding the deadest thing wondering night and day, dreaming the past when we're awake and sleeping throughout the now.

i say find your real ego and throw away this dead-fake-Vanitas Vanitatum, Omnia Vanitas-pathetic skull, don't be afraid to give yourself an ego that's real and full of life. be the Creator. there is no other way to Love the Divine but to shine as One! and there is no way to find the real Ego if you don't wish to find Truth especially about

yourself.

so, without truth about ourselves we ended up with a fake ego, the connection between our self and this ego can only be parasitical, we keep saying and repeating the same lines perpetuating the Lie, ending up fake a dummy maybe in many timelines maybe not,

what about Now then?

now, now is in all timelines. it's the unification of timelines.


Mikeverdi on 04-06-2015
The chosen dummies
Pleased I arrived to read both this wonderful piece...and the comments. I think without them and your answers I may not have gleaned the full import. Storm said it all ...just brilliant, and well worth the Nib. Please accept my Nom to go with it.
Mike

Author's Reply:
Mike thank you very much, got more attention than i expected with None and The chosen dummies, very positive, it makes me want to hide for a while, i forgot how it is.

Nic

(special thanks for the nomination(=

Supratik on 07-06-2015
The chosen dummies
I could connect instantly with the poem. I wouldn't like to get into defining ego, fake or otherwise, but the poem has a very deep meaning for me, I have read and re-read. Well done Nic!

Author's Reply:
thanks Supratik, i would like to know what you believe about the ego, and I hope that you are keeping an open mind about the most vilified factor of human existence.

Supratik on 08-06-2015
The chosen dummies
Nic! Frankly speaking I am scared to open up before an intellectual like you. Excuse me my ignorance, but I perceive ego as an image that you have or would like to have of yourself to others. The fact that I am Supratik, Indian, Bengali, can somewhat write poems...these are all parts of ego. Insofar as the real Self is concerned, these are far from true. In a nutshell, a false image of the self is ego...but I am willing to be corrected Nic!

Please keep posting such brilliant thought-provoking poems!


Yes! I agree!

Author's Reply:
don't be scared, i'm not the intellectual university type, not infiltrated i.e. i will update this reply later, i'm cooking now!

well back for a proper reply.

do you know what is hated most by those who think they are the ventriloquists and we are the dummies?

individualism.

but they don't really get it how it goes regarding ventriloquists inherent in human conscience. so let's say that we yes we have our own ventriloquist, and this one speaks the truth, it's our Ego.

they vilified our ego so that we never get in touch with our inner ventriloquist.


The exorbitance of parenthood (posted on: 01-06-15)
"No divine guardian shall draw lots for you, but you shall choose your own guardian and destiny." -- Plato (edited repost)

If I were to tell you dear soul That your parents Will help you find The end of the rainbow Would you believe me? Or would you rather Have me tell you Another time? It certainly would be Better for me. I'm still working On how to get over it. But if you are In a big hurry, To see for yourself There is no such thing, Allow me to give you My only advice, No karmic child Should wait for me. However, from what I see, Parents are all too often Oedipal creeps, And one should think Twice before Choosing the next Available unprotected sex, As he would already be Running out of luck.
Archived comments for The exorbitance of parenthood
deadpoet on 02-06-2015
The exorbitance of parenthood
I saw a video of a full circle rainbow over Niagara falls- it was amazing!

(Parents shouldn't choose for you- and you make most of the same mistakes as they did. Until you become a grandparent!)

Essentially no-one is to choose for anybody. And people shouldn't be judged for their choices or non-choices.

I think the last part of this poem is funny. It made me giggle.
dp



Author's Reply:
A friend of mine finds poodles suspicious i happen to find rainbows! She was suspicious of a poodle image i used in the poem Truth and i found it odd. I still find it odd.

a rainbow is like a promise that won't be kept, a bona fide stride into the unknown doomed future of humanity (in To Crossed Fingers you can find how i mean "bona fide")

thank you very much for reading and commenting, it made me feel much better!

nic

Supratik on 23-10-2015
The exorbitance of parenthood
An excellent poem. I don't know if you'd agree, but the poem has an oriental smell. Hey, but that's the reason I got bewitched... I like the poem and think it should find its place in serious reading. Best. Supratik

Author's Reply:
i just saw this comment, thanks of course you may think it has oriental smell, but actually it is based on Plato. Plato and the myth of Hr (Ir, Μύθος του Ηρός), it says that we select our next reincarnation. for example Odysseus selected the simple life of an insignificant man.

Rosco on 24-06-2016
The exorbitance of parenthood
The last sentence is brutal and hilarious. Praise be to Greece!

Author's Reply:


None (posted on: 01-06-15)
edited repost that will be further edited (or replaced) (or deleted) (maybe it will be the slowly disappearing poem... hey that's a good title hmmm)

The indefinable nurtures The poet's mind, A foggy state of thinking, A constant need To shape an identity For yourself at least in verse. Looking back after years Searching for remnants Is almost pointless. None of your emotions Can repeat itself Similarly enough. The verse is like A photograph of something Bound to disappear. You read it back Knowing you wrote it But the feeling Is not right. Understanding yourself In your own poetry Is like standing on the shoulders Of big events and moments, Like the elusive subject Missing from a sentence All verb.
Archived comments for None
Mikeverdi on 01-06-2015
None
Its an excellent piece, and well worth the Nib.
On the critique side, I wonder, as you have capitals at the start of each line, maybe you could add paragraph brakes
just to space it. Just me thinking is all... I still loved it ๐Ÿ™‚
Mike

Author's Reply:
hi Mike thanks for commenting, lately i find paragraph brakes somehow pretentious. the poem doesn't follow any particular form, doesn't really rhyme so i guess i thought just caps just that at the start of each line.
Nic

stormwolf on 01-06-2015
None
Can really identify with this one Nic. Congrats on nib
Loved it.
Alison xx

Author's Reply:
thanks Alison
xxx

Rosco on 01-06-2015
None
I remember this. The long narrow column suits the sparse sentiment of the narrative. An overdue nib.

Author's Reply:
ah, nibs NIBS! oh it was a pleasant surprise always is

deadpoet on 02-06-2015
None
I'm afraid we got off on a bad foot a couple of years ago Ifyouplease- I am sorry- it was solely my fault. Long story. I hope you can forgive me?

Now to this poem. I could completely relate to the sentiments in this. Trying to put past and present together in your life to give some fabric to your identity. It's hard (for me ) and sometimes just doesn't work. People come and go in your life and sometimes there's not much to hang on to. Writing poetry eases the soul I think and you are forever developing each time you write a new poem. Looking back at the writing isn't always easy because you feel you grow wiser with time I think. I guess it often has to do what mood you are in. Don't be too critical.

Funny life !
Brilliant poem and well deserving of the Nib. I think the last 2 lines round the poem off so well
" missing from a sentence
all verb "

dp
xx

Author's Reply:
dp!! sorry for the belated reply, i remember - i had and have absolutely no problem with you or your poetry but i hesitated to add a comment on your very interesting work all this time! so may I add comments on your work in the future? i don't know what triggered that reaction of yours back then, forgive my ignorance which is getting bigger and bigger as a realization in my life, and sometimes faultier and faultier......

let's smile and move on! thank you!
Nic
xx

gwirionedd on 03-06-2015
None
Interesting and thoughtful poem indeed. I like it.

Just a few points. Firstly, it should be "none of your emotions can repeat themselves." This is because "none of your emotions" is plural, followed by 'are' rather than 'is'.

Secondly, this:

"The verse is like
A photograph of something
Bound to disappear."

Might you be able to give a concrete example of some kind of object that is bound to disappear? This could be something worth thinking about.

"Understanding yourself
In your own poetry
Is like standing on the shoulders
Of big events and moments,
Like the elusive subject
Missing from a sentence
All verb."

I don't think you need the "like standing on the shoulders Of big events and moments" unless maybe, again, you could give a more concrete example...?

I also think you don't need both "elusive" and "missing", because they both mean the same thing and because, as you already know, adjectives are to be avoided as much as possible.



Author's Reply:
hi and thanks for commenting,

your points:

none of your emotions = i think that in this case i can use singular because of "your" and here's why

from a site: On the other hand, there is one indefinite pronoun, none, that can be either singular or plural; it often doesn't matter whether you use a singular or a plural verb โ€” unless something else in the sentence determines its number*. (Writers generally think of none as meaning not any and will choose a plural verb, as in "None of the engines are working," but when something else makes us regard none as meaning not one, we want a singular verb,[...])

*important: you cannot determine the number of emotions of a human being. they are not determined but NONE (not one) can be repeated similarly enough.

regarding photograph and shoulders: that's exactly what is bound to disappear and it is related to "big events and moments". of course i need these lines.

about elusive and missing
i'm sure i can cut ELUSIVE (they don't mean the same thing by the way), but i want to say something about YOURSELF first then make one see why yourself will be missing, because the Self is elusive.


(sorry for the edits just woke up from a long siesta, thanks for adding me to your hot authors list.)

update to avoid the singular plural problem perhaps i should say "can be repeated similarly enough"

what do you think?

gwirionedd on 03-06-2015
None
Ah, you mean the photograph itself is bound to disappear?

I didn't catch that. It reads like "a photograph of something that is bound to disappear" (like some keys, a sock, or the black box of a hijacked American aeroplane).



Author's Reply:
the poem let's say is the action of taking a photograph of something bound to disappear -

like someone who takes a photograph of a big event etc but after years it has faded so much and reconstructing what the photograph/poem was originally showing can only be done by repeating the emotional impact on the poet and then the poet sees nothing can be repeated similarly enough. (realizations, realizations... the emotional roots of everything in art perhaps)

what he will see in the poem will be something new based on new emotions that emerge about the particular emotion which cannot be repeated.

at some point the poet will write in a detached manner to avoid the missing subject that needs reconstruction after years.
what will he realize then?
are the roots of poetry emotional?

so this poem was my first effort, valid effort to write as detached from myself as possible facing the cold fact, reading it after years made me realize that even detachment is different now. i'm a totally different stranger to myself.

Gothicman on 04-06-2015
None
When the Greek overlaps the English enough, your extraordinarily brilliant mind shines through the work IYP, and is a delight to read and cogitate on for this simple mortal. You often mention the need when reading one of your poems to connect it within the context of others you've written. Well, I have, of course, read them all, finding it repays the effort needed, again and again. Grateful also, to your occasional extended replies to comments, giving us some insight into how really creative thinking is put to paper.

Goth

With the lead in, I don't mean grammar and such, but your amazing and privileged cultural knowledge from the cradle of Man!

Author's Reply:
hi Goth, i've always had mixed feelings when praised for something so excuse me for feeling awkward, i can only be glad that some of my poems can cause any positive remark and i can only thank you for your very kind appraisal.

Nic


To Crossed Fingers (posted on: 30-03-15)
response poem - Littleditty's L'Haim...To Life

There is no failure like rebirth oblivious under the impression of no erased memories, all the faces, the eyes, the dormancy of everything you once knew, asleep too or walking around like a zombie, since, every pleasure and pain is just an illusion; a book, a partner, the morning coffee, the nose-rubbing lovers and the pooping babies, those who do harm... a contract reincarnates your hopes, desires and needs, even recreates the faceless sky on top of the faceless sea, one more popping into existence the terms and conditions of which are bona fide signed.
Archived comments for To Crossed Fingers
Mikeverdi on 30-03-2015
To Crossed Fingers
For me, that's great writing. I don't have to believe it to say that ....it just is.
Mike

Author's Reply:
thanks Mike!

Rosco on 26-05-2015
To Crossed Fingers
All I can say is that you're a humanist at heart: fearless in speaking your mind and stating explicitly your thoughts whether poetic or not, airy or leaden. You've faced the three jars from the Merchant of Venice and made the correct choice. Your readership here isn't what it used to be. You must have associated too much with me. By the way, I'm not an Anglo-Saxon any more than you're a Macedonian. (the nose-rubbing thing is an Inuit thing says the Canuck)

Author's Reply:
readership hmm. why do you say that? you don't have anything to do with it, i don't try to have a readership not anymore. i leave it all to chance. i'm an antisocial humanist probably. finding what i am is also left to chance.


Galactic (posted on: 09-01-15)
an old poem i decided to repost after reading Rosco's It Takes advanced critique welcome.

They stood over against, confused, numb limbs and half open mouths, aghast at the sight of shooting stars and bursting blue suns anticipating figures in the dark hearkening glowing supreme beings while so many thoughts cropped up and gates finally visualized... Reading in blank diaries this materialized future present is just recalling eluding routine's anguish of evaporating hopes and fate with all the silly things that erased their dreamy astral realms... Now by crossing the threshold of levitated, vestal, virgin, Athenian Souls and floating Eleusinian roads, they will find secure, familiar, and eternal worlds deep in the galactic ocean of Poseidon where Gods and Goddesses dance around the bridal catafalque of Persephone 23/10/2002
Archived comments for Galactic
e-griff on 09-01-2015
Galactic
'they stood over against' makes no sense.

I have to be honest, it seemed to me you sought all the 'fancy' words you could and bunged them into a poem.

I did like some of the imagery, which saved it from being simply an abstract poem.

Author's Reply:
back then i used to write mostly in Greek then translate and i assure you it doesn't sound at all full of fancy words, back then i had no idea what a good translation means which most of the time is not about grammar in context and exact meaning, however i am happy that i kept the abstract free spirit of the greek poem. i do want someone to help me edit this, so instead of the fancy words and since over against makes no sense do you perchance have any suggestions? thank you!

e-griff on 09-01-2015
Galactic
I understand what you are saying, but this is a very personal vision, and I don't feel suggestions from me would be helpful, as it would be my poem, not yours. I would make the unusual words more normal, but the choice of which words can only be yours,.

Author's Reply:
read about the phenomenon, it was a mystic experience of course a poet would write about his/her personal vision of a mysterious mystic experience, they would be. if you know ancient greek mythology they would be, the connection between Poseidon and Hades, some facts about the first born god etc, not just what wiki says, there are deeper connections here. you have to travel in the past. that's what the poet here (me) tried, to feel how it was for modern people of the past getting in touch with those supreme beings. it's not my language and it never will be, i cannot make unusual words more normal is hearkening unusual? what is unusual here?

e-griff on 09-01-2015
Galactic
I've read it again, and I withdraw my remarks about the words. I realise it's just a personal prejudice on my part, and if I stand aside frotm that and read it neutrally, it's fine. The only thing I would question is the grammar of the 'eluding from'. Sorry. ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:
one of the major problems of this poem which is not beyond repair, is the format. and i am going to edit it, some words starting with caps etc. these things made it sound pompous or something which i never really liked, but it's the syndrome of the foreign language thing. we do sound pompous when we write in a foreign language sometimes, we are not just "formal" or "archaic" using rare words, the combination makes us sound pompous. and this is not a good element in any poem. am i right?

update
i edited it, first edit after many years, here is what it looked like

They stood over against, confused
With numb members and half open mouths
Aghast at the sight of shooting stars
And bursting blue suns
Anticipating figures in the dark
Hearkening supreme beings
Glowing while
So many thoughts crop up
So many gates finally visualize...
Reading in blank diaries this materialized future
Present is just recalling
Eluding from routineโ€™s anguish
Of evaporating hopes
And Fate with all the silly things that
Erased their dreamy astral realms...
Now by
Crossing the threshold
Of Levitated Vestal Virgin Athenian Souls
And Floating Eleusinian roads
They will find secure,
Familiar, and eternal
W o r l d s
Deep in the Galactic Ocean of Poseidon
Where
Gods and Goddesses
Dance around the bridal catafalque
Of Persephone

--
yes elude doesn't need "from" thanks

e-griff on 09-01-2015
Galactic
Ignore my initial comment. I'm embarrassed. The language matches the theme.

Author's Reply:
no, thank you you helped me more than you know, don't worry- read the edit

Rosco on 25-05-2015
Galactic
Those last four lines sure roll off the tongue wonderfully. Shakespearean.

Author's Reply:
thank you very much


If she were on duty... (posted on: 15-12-14)
response poem, here is the original written by littleditty

If she were on duty in Chaos as a crystal AI and saw another one diving in creation's waterfall, wondered, beyond time and space, ''Why isn't everyone here doing the same? Where are the masters of us masters? How can all carry on with their mundane chores, holding ropes that keep the Order elsewhere?'' and in the infinitesimal time it takes afterwards, had she dived in and pulled her newly transformed human body off the whirling waters, heaved her onto the steps of Abyss with her arms around her belly, smacked her on the back, watched her cough up water, held her there until she looked her in the eyes, and they climbed out, both to their routine, dripping in an abstract cave, to get what she got for making the somewhat rocky surface wet with regretful experience, would she never again dive? Make it a rule, if she were on duty and saw another crystal AI trying to leave and live?
Archived comments for If she were on duty...
e-griff on 15-12-2014
If she were on duty...
Wow! I only partially understood this, but I liked it, it made images for me ...

Author's Reply:
it's about a recurring nightmare when i was a child that later was combined with a traumatic scene from a movie. the last time i had this dream with the new part i ended up in hospital due to a severe panic attack which psychologically crippled me for more than a year making me unable to continue my studies.

Ionicus on 16-12-2014
If she were on duty...
It is not unusual to be inspired by a poem so much that one is able to extrapolate ideas and concepts from it and make them relevant to oneself, as you have done here. In the words of T.S.Eliot โ€œImmature poets imitate; mature poets steal; bad poets deface what they take, and good poets make it into something better, or at least something different.โ€
Best, Luigi

Author's Reply:
response poems are not exactly based on stealing, for me it is about replacing effectively the core of a poem with a new one. thanks Luigi

Rosco on 30-05-2015
If she were on duty...
This seems to read like a battle of the psyche to free itself. The introduction of the 3rd or hypothetical conditional in line 9 is very moving.

Author's Reply:
if our conscience relies entirely on the feed of another conscience we are artificial intelligence. the only test is to become human, and by means of fate and destiny to prove the opposite even if it is impossible without free will.


Determination (posted on: 05-12-14)
revamped old poem.

They took glass and limned polygons on its glossy indifference with the tripping artistry of a spider to depict Time's profile and its clandestine anatomy, empty hives designed to store the honey of life and nurture divinity. In hours of sleep, over imaginary crests of Olympic privacy they then untwined the glassy web of fate, somehow they dared within our dreams to stretch and peg this weft on our spirits' beds, the fleshy place, where deeper thoughts have no affinity. And as if it was Homeric rhapsody inspired by the glare of blindness, all those ephemeral traces of every day's shallowness had rhymed, relating to the presentiments of each yesterday that were pregnant with an answer. Unwilling to put up with the gods' master plan that locked the truth only to be found in mythical labyrinths we trudged on the stage of their boredom's theatre, abstained from their comedy, determined on ending this tragedy.
Archived comments for Determination
Mikeverdi on 05-12-2014
Last Episode
There is much to admire in this writing, I wont pretend to understand it all; it's enough for me to dance with the words.

One section a little out of step for me in verse two.
for your consideration:
'where deeper thoughts have no affinity'

Only my opinion, and it is your poem ๐Ÿ™‚
In friendship
Mike

Author's Reply:
very good suggestion, i will edit forthwith thanks!

Slovitt on 05-12-2014
Last Episode
N., you are a poet. not many would venture "Time's profile" and "...honey of life/and nurture divinity". and the world of your poem, your world a world of "dreams...deeper thoughts...presentiments of each yesterday...truth in mythical labyrinths". for me your poems have always been self-portraits, living quests into unusual, interesting dimensions, an opportunity for the reader to breathe a different air. Swep

Author's Reply:
N., you are a poet.

who knows? who knows...

an opportunity for the reader to breathe a different air

i hope so

living quests into unusual

yep.

Thanks S.

Rosco on 24-12-2014
Last Episode
You're a natural story teller. I like it when you abandon that unwinding mode and supercharge a jagged lyric.
Edit in CAPITALS:
Unwilling to put up with THE godsโ€™ master plan
that locked the truth only to be found in mythical labyrinths
we trudged on THEIR stage of boredomโ€™s theatre, abstained from their comedy
OBSTINATELY ready for a REAL tragedy.

Author's Reply:
previous title was PERSISTENCE, so I understand why you suggest the use of obstinately, i think persistently is better more likeable human trait what do you think? this one had a a different ending there is a missing last stanza which i finally cut because it had to do with Prometheus and Jesus and it was too much i think, and by the way back in 2003 there was an e-zine oxford academy or something which had accepted this one. no longer available their page. they had accepted various poems by me which i found rather flattering i just sent poems without thought. Incompleteness i think was another they accepted and Narrative as it should be.

just saw the other edits, i don't think it's essential to add THE, and it's not THEIR stage, the play is their invention, not the THE STAGE. it's like saying that an ancient theater belongs to someone, no, and actually it's something people have created to participate in the divine comedy. to understand it even. so the poem says "let's change the play, let's write it ourselves"

theater is also another misleading element due to the cultural gap perhaps or just because of language.
the theater here refers to their boredom which is insensitive. again the stage the actual place doesn't belong to them and perhaps to anyone. the play/theater is written by them for amusement. so do they want to desensitize humans? is this their goal? show them/us everything there is to be shown but not allowing them to be superhumans let's say, condemning them to play helpless unable to change a line? so where is FREE WILL?

Rosco on 27-12-2014
Last Episode
I see. The only caveat is that without 'the', "with god's master plan" refers to one god's plan as opposed to multiple deities conveyed by "with the gods' master plan". I'm not sure which it is. Perhaps "most/truly/now/finally ready for a tragedy" or "already a tragedy" Something is not quite perfect.

Author's Reply:
do i have to use this article or can i avoid it? i think this is the case when you can avoid THE.;
no i want the end as simply put as possible. we don't know anything about finally or truly and we just feel ready. after all it's just a play. a script, theirs too.

update i will post two response poems tomorrow and repost the retitled Elefsinian one, now after i finish the second response poem i will edit this one.


update two
one response poem, next week i will try to write/edit/have ready Nicky's To life. anyway, so i will now edit this one and logout.

FINAL UPDATE
just edited this and retitled. hope you like the ending more.

Rosco on 06-01-2015
Determination
I think this is better. It's very complex, really hermetic poetry which gives up its secrets very slowly through multiple readings.

Author's Reply:
hermetic means giving up secrets very slowly through multiple -INGS? well. i never said I'm an evil alien to reveal i'm an evil alien in just one episode. it's all about the bloody egg, why is the yolk round when we boil it and flat when we fry it? what does it mean for the universe or has that clever man Davinci been painting eggs to mislead everyone? is it possible to have planets/round/spheres if there is no shell of some kind an electromagnetic membrane to keep everything round/spherical. we must not only think outside the box, we have to break the s(p)-(h)ell. some find it cosy in here, but it's too crowdy. gods throw eggs at our poor performance, poor little humans they suck don't they? well ok, we are not humans, if that's what it takes, i renounce my human quality, i'm a spoon! or a frying pan. oh no i don't even want to be something invented by humans, but they invented everything even surrealism. well ok. at least I can be hermetic for the time being. until everyone sees the shell is broken and we've said goodbye to antigravity loooooooong ago. i don't want to continue because it's too weird.


Rosco on 07-01-2015
Determination
You and I are hermetic writers to our fingertips. That's why we get off on each other so much. There are only about a dozen or so in a generation. If you find a half dozen, and I do the same, we could start a mag. I would need a considerable head start since I am virtually blind on the internet.

Author's Reply:
another mag? no, there are too many already, do we have something vitally significant to share with the world? that the wold will get i.e.

update: here is someone who really hates the gods' master plan and embraced insanity (??)
http://www.ascensionhelp.com/blog/2013/11/21/tell-the-lords-of-karma-that-you-are-sovereign-no-longer-a-lightworker-part-2/
http://www.ascensionhelp.com/blog/2012/01/31/never-call-them-archons/

here is a link about shields of the star trek kind a very sophisticated stage it is...

http://www.siliconrepublic.com/innovation/item/39548-real-life-star-trek-shield



Neutron Man (posted on: 05-12-14)
surreal

Three demons were talking about a man And his capacities In a place where no 0ne could hear what they were saying Plotting and sniggering They were so certain matter around them was that dense Well, it wasn't. Numerous beings heard what they said, some better than them Some far more evil, all thinking in the back of their minds, "Nothing is impenetrable enough in this fucking world", But these three were so convinced that when they left, Blissfully ignorant, somehow made everyone genuinely care not, Search for their own cosy core and enjoy some rare Picoseconds of idle electronic privacy. They don't understand him do they...
Archived comments for Neutron Man
Slovitt on 05-12-2014
Neutron Man
N., first 6 lines clean and clear, the table set. perhaps "Others", or even "Other beings", though "Others" reads better, instead of "Numerous beings". maybe an example of "better than them" and "far worse", something like "Some far more evil". line starting "Blissfully ignorant" gets more awkward as it goes, really probably the one flaw in your poem from my point of view. "cosy core" is good. good poem that verbalizes how your mind works, how your thoughts come to page with their own original vision. Swep

Author's Reply:
i will edit this one i was thinking about planets Saturn to be precise telescopes spectography nanotime - hiding - demons classic ones messing with the electrons affecting dimensions etc etc i have a long theory about spectrums inexistence and dreams within dreams the core of everything


Loins (posted on: 15-09-14)
Peter 1:13 N-AFP

you cannot think of whoever or whatever created this world, without stretching your imagination, it's the same as becoming a sex symbol, you can't have that without underground trains billowing a dress from the subway grate, therefore not only poetry but also religion is in the loins.
Archived comments for Loins
Supratik on 16-09-2014
Loins
Very striking and there's something so attractive about this poem! My God! It's a wow from me!

Author's Reply:
thanks Supratik your comment made me smile ๐Ÿ™‚

Gothicman on 17-09-2014
Loins
You at your best IFP when not too cryptic for lesser mortals! I must say I'd rather have Marilyn than Mary Magdalene any day, even in the biblical sense! Religion certainly is love energy that's totally wasted on abstractions because it inevitably means less love for real altruism. All religious love is essentially narcissistic when analysed to its deeper roots! More please IYP at this superb level for it's a very special and talented poetry style IMHO. Gothicman

Author's Reply:
thank you, you encourage me a lot with your super positive comment and rating.

Pilgermann on 17-09-2014
Loins
Superb poem. The abstraction and juxtaposition goes well with biblical verse.

I'd go even further at the end and state that "all life is in the loins" but that would be for another poem.

I'm off to jumpstart the loins of my mind.

Author's Reply:
thank you very much Pilgermann

Nic

Ionicus on 18-09-2014
Loins
I agree with all these good people. You are at your best when your message is unambiguous and easily understood by the readers. This is excellent workmanship.

Luigi xxx

Author's Reply:
thank you dear Luigi

Nicoletta xxx

Rosco on 24-12-2014
Loins
Analytical Logic. To hell with that! I wonder about adding stretching WIDE THE imagination to link and generalize at the same time.

It's an edit for "your imagination" to "wide the imagination" 29/08/15

Author's Reply:
hey, first time i read this comment, haven't seen it when did you comment? what do you mean?


Freedom in disguise (posted on: 05-09-14)
western. part 10. The Town

The solemn hierarchy of trees Follows me in the desert of time Spreading the hourglass Flattening the horizon The sun eights his way To the night in the sky When we're turned upside down Momentarily I pass through a lake Children laughter mothers the transition I must leave behind one day This loop which is wonderful But now dreadfully pointless And only a memory of someone Once shot so as not to be hanged Looking at the sunset fired From God's gun.
Archived comments for Freedom in disguise
Gothicman on 06-09-2014
Freedom in disguise
Brilliant IYP, and much better and more rewarding when read in context with the other 9. Thanks, Gothicman

Author's Reply:
thanks Gothicman ๐Ÿ™‚

stormwolf on 07-09-2014
Freedom in disguise
Wonderfully surreal Nic
Some incredible abstract phrases.
Alison x

Author's Reply:
thanks Alison xxx


Shadows in the Land of Love (posted on: 01-09-14)
ep op ap

Silence so as not be broken Throws stones at shadows Of conversations - it's the spirits of the past That continue to talk to each other - In order to make them curious once again About what has not been said so far. Years circle the cadavers of humanity's love affairs Like vultures that never dive down to their dead prey Years attached to each other by invisible threads Unable to fly straight up or anywhere else. Plagued by the plots of fate And despite the fact No silence wants a stone to bounce on an echo, Forces a target to remember And this shadow becomes the new Silence As bored to death as the last.
Archived comments for Shadows in the Land of Love
Supratik on 01-09-2014
Shadows in the Land of Love
Brilliant!!! Every line speaks volumes on wondering how 'this shadow becomes the new Silence'!

'Throws stones at shadows' in order to break the silence has a whole range of interpretations, very well-crafted!

Author's Reply:
hey thanks for reading and commenting, edited a line to avoid a repetition, thanks for rating as well! cheers Supratik

Slovitt on 01-09-2014
Shadows in the Land of Love
clearly thought out and written. you have a grasp here of subtleties, and an ability to think in such and connect these tenuous webs across time. "cadaver" grates, perhaps "bones".
good poem.

Author's Reply:
thanks Swep (i prefer the word cadavers, a vulture is not a dog to like bones hehehe)

Gothicman on 04-09-2014
Shadows in the Land of Love
As a cryptic poem, Nicoletta, you must allow personal takes on what the messaging might say and be, for cognition requires it to be connected to unique personal experiences, even if your explanation will be the most valid! And, also forgive me for being burdened by being too pragmatic! These old flames, the "necrogenic stubs of cold carnal ghosts" as I call them probably do talk to each other, perhaps even comparing notes, perish the thought, but do they give voice when we actively remember them as memories? But logic says these loves from the past can only cease to be erotically desired by being transferred from object to subject, by our identifying with them., thus becoming part of the self structure and therefore no longer sought after or missed externally. I suppose the now internalized love feelings might increase feelings of self-esteem, but they would then be a part of our total personality, and therefore always speaking whenever we speak! What a horrible conglomeration of choruses I must be! That's why I'm waffling now! Masterly work as usual, sending the interpretive self in all directions in search of logic which with you always is a satisfactory and rewarding process. .. Thanks.

Author's Reply:
another way to say that bodies (and their shadows) are The Wise Dummies actually, reincarnation is simply a new live corpse. a brand new unit with an expiration date. if you don't want to repeat it you have to get rid of the invisible threads, either dead (Socrates) or within your live corpse (Buddha, Christ). Silence is not working broken or not she always bears witness of this illusional existence and its ungodly sight. there is so much pain and so much pleasure you will eventually interact with both. however silence shows you which thing exactly bores you to death. and it is that both create the false impression that those circling years is the necessary loop to exist, not the only hell we condemn ourselves to. Silence cannot teach you anything else then, and all you can do is wait for death or enlightenment whichever comes first.

Gothicman on 04-09-2014
Shadows in the Land of Love
Strange, quantum physics, in an attempt to explain infinity, says there is no such thing as a straight line beyond the small measurements encountered on earth. So, if everything is on a curve, we live the same life over and over again; whether or not previous or present experiences in interaction with others can influence how each new life becomes, the birthrights and progression, is not known, but important is that you have no recollection of having had a previous life, otherwise it would become extremely tedious! But "leakages" occur, like when a person speaks French under hypnosis having never learnt it in present life, or even "dรฉjร  vu" experiences. Haven't you and me met before?

Author's Reply:
that's the deal most of the time, no recollection just leakages. leakages that may be recollections of others. not ours. so we should avoid hypnosis. won't show us anything. not sure about having met you or anyone. not sure if it's important to know or if it is insignificant not to know. too many weird terms of service when we start using a brand "new" unit. that alone should alert us about being caught in another lie about our true purpose and nature.

Gothicman on 04-09-2014
Shadows in the Land of Love
Hahaaa! Good answer, you've convinced me, it's safer to acquiesce by just reciting some part as being good, or just thanking for the act of simply making public a submission for perusal, or leaving well alone. But, most would think it at least interesting to know the work's effect on another in more detail, the impression procured etc., otherwise the work ceases to function as a communication or even as a statement or proclamation, just becomes a collection of words for the esotericists, who then usually rapidly dwindle in number as the exchange becomes more and more subtle. But this no problem either as all eventually find their own level and so thrive. Thanks for your answers, much appreciated. Gothicman.

Author's Reply:
thanks for your comments Gothicman. they're great. btw this one will probably become the 11th part of The Town (western script poetry which you can find if you like here, posted as artisus)

tenth will be published tomorrow.

Gothicman on 04-09-2014
Shadows in the Land of Love
I followed the link to artisus on your account page as not active in Members List, and The Town 1 - 9 is the brilliant Nicoletta I've read so much of in the past. The start was so funny: THE MANY ANTONYMS OF SOBRIETY, and then further. It's bit comical in places, like Bush's son blaming him for a shorter right leg! Hahaha! I think you should repost them again under this S'il Vous Plaรฎt user name here, I'm sure most would love to read them, even again as they are from 2009. Unless, of course, they're to be published soon. I shall read all at leisure now.

Author's Reply:
just experimenting, for now. soon it will be over. last experiments for me. i am getting rid of the internet by the end of the year. thank you

Gothicman on 05-09-2014
Shadows in the Land of Love
Had to leave it for awhile, but I've read it all now and it changes to other messaging after the anti-Bush lead in, I presume 1 - 9 is the order of reading as laid out on the page. I think it's excellent poetry, some parts more cryptic than others, but a red thread theme through it. I look forwards to reading part 10 today. I do hope you continue with this experimental work and stay online as long as possible, even if the Net distracts a great deal and takes a lot one's time. But, you need to be creative and it's good for reaching out for that purpose.

Author's Reply:
i was not thinking of any anti-bush introduction. just a misunderstood liar. good morning from Athens!

Rosco on 30-05-2015
Shadows in the Land of Love
Your anthropomorphizing of abstractions like fate and silence is one of your gifts. It hasn't been done in English, to my knowledge, since the 19th century. It's startling to experience now, particularly since you convey a sense of true, intimate knowledge of such dimensions. It may also have something to do with the use of nouns in Greek i.e. they can be more animate than is generally the case in English perhaps? I'm thinking of terms like being and goodness and fate etc.

Author's Reply:
i just saw this comment, sure it has to do with nouns in Greek, being you know a word in Greek is είναι we say το είναι μου which means "my being" and the word in greek is ei nai, which practically means: yes you exist.

gwirionedd on 13-06-2015
Shadows in the Land of Love
Beautiful stuff. I really relate to this one. It's as though you wrote it about me...

Think the first line should be "Silence so as not to be broken".

Author's Reply:
thanks for noticing you're right there's a typo there



The boy among no-one (posted on: 18-08-14)
probably work in progress. something to post.

THE BOY AMONG NO-ONE "What is wonderful he wondered in the deepest parts of inexistence… Is it something I can taste, that I can palpate?" He knew that all things he can sense are false. Inexistence is the worst place to be, those clergymen were right, those bloodlines correct. There is no Ego over there to show you how deep the rabbit hole is, there is no simulation. But he ended up in Inexistence and everything was fine for him, there. He could survive the endless knowledge of everything in no time. Let him be wherever he wants to then. Nobody can touch us from that place. Who wants to be real when we can live forever here, where we can choose a simulation we like? And repeat again and again the game of games? He doesn't know how lonely he is over there. We are not. Hell or Paradise, school or prison, we find people, many people to touch and to be touched. We find the holographic pleasure exciting, we won't allow his loneliness to spoil things for us. We are here. Existing. And nothing else matters.
Archived comments for The boy among no-one
PSPaul on 18-08-2014
The boy among no-one
Excellent poem.I love a composition greatly when it talks like prose and feels like poetry.

Author's Reply:
thank you very much ๐Ÿ™‚

Mikeverdi on 18-08-2014
The boy among no-one
Hello, I found this interesting, but I wont pretend to know where or what it's about ๐Ÿ™‚ I also found the lay out a bit disjointed. All this is just me, and what do I know. I wish I could be more subjective.
Mike

Author's Reply:
I will update my reply above to Supratik and then update this one to read my explanation. thanks Mike ๐Ÿ™‚

Supratik on 18-08-2014
The boy among no-one
Hello Nic,

I am very embarrassed at the thought of my response as a trigger to your not being in the right frame of mind. No defense, it is my fault, I apologise.

Best.
Supratik


Author's Reply:
what? no as i said was not in the mood this morning, i had to go to doctors etc. it was a crazy day for me today (i hate doctors and hospitals etc). and my reply was short because of my disposition! your comment earlier had absolutely nothing to do with my mood which is getting better.


Gothicman on 18-08-2014
The boy among no-one
I've always stood in awe of how your brilliant mind tries to capture new and different angles, even new logical points of departure, challenging all traditional "truths" and assumptions in the way we see or experience things. In this piece there appears to be the wish at least to escape the shackles of conventional thinking and the life situation we humans have developed, but also the fear of being the person taking on this challenge, safer to be observing the attempt from a distance, i.e. some evidence of ambivalence creeping in.

You're never dull to read! Thanks for this one, at least in its present form for I know you'll be back to tweak it again!

Author's Reply:
"you're never dull to read" is one of the best comments i have received! thank you, you saw many things, you even saw "the fear of being the person taking on this challenge" and your comment really rocks!

chant_z on 18-08-2014
The boy among no-one
I had to "chew" this one a couple of times which itself is a good sign. Works wonders and..no...I don't find it disjointed to the extent that it doesn't make sense. My guess is that it's up to the reader to make sense of it, at least half way and that challenge works wonders. Thanks!

Author's Reply:
thank you too, chant_z ๐Ÿ™‚

ValDohren on 21-08-2014
The boy among no-one
Sounds very Matrix-ish to me - reality v illusion, existence v inexistence, and which is preferable. Much food for thought, enjoyed reading.
Val

Author's Reply:
inexistence is not that terrible. or is as terrible as existence. thank you for reading Val
Nic

Rosco on 30-05-2015
The boy among no-one
'many people to touch and to be touched by them.' I would cut 'them' in this line.

Very affirmative poem having just suggested the opposite about your work in my last comment. I'll stop bothering you now. I was trying to remember if you ever wrote lyric poetry without a narrator or pronoun referents(you, he, she, we and I) This may be another structuring strategy.

Author's Reply:
yeah must be cut it's greek there. because in greek i would have preferred it like that instead of using αγγιχθεί generally.
i hate general stuff and that's what i like about abstract pieces, and abstract prosetry cannot be general it is specific.

now this one is affirmative but from the point of negation, i have this theory about yes and no, which one would win in the end and the answer is NO because its quality is to disagree and yes will have to agree with no eventually. then NO has nothing to disagree with so it must be affirmative if it doesn't want to become self-annulling.


Lull (posted on: 13-06-14)
poem

Listen to the wind, wearing soft athletic shoes, pacing towards us.  photo ee720138-1b52-4f8c-80a1-8354e07119e8_zps3341c876.jpg
Archived comments for Lull
Mikeverdi on 13-06-2014
Lull
So simple yet SO good, why didn't I write that ๐Ÿ™‚ Love it!
Mike

Author's Reply:
thanks Mike ๐Ÿ™‚

stormwolf on 14-06-2014
Lull
Lovely!
When all else fails, nature will always uplift and remind us of beauty. (I will now welcome the wind wearing soft athletic shoes)
Alison xxx

Author's Reply:
thank you Alison

xxx


Hypotenuse path (posted on: 13-06-14)
geometrical

A different way the master asked ''No'' was the first word he uttered, So I had to question him, politely, A second no, and then a third, were his replies. I said nothing, I stopped talking And moved on. A different way lurks on my path And as the demand on no grows bigger, So does the length of My moving on.
Archived comments for Hypotenuse path
stormwolf on 14-06-2014
Hypotenuse path
Incredibly deep Nic. I took it that you were still striving but the path was your own and going the longer way about things because the path is your own but I may be wrong. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Alison x

Author's Reply:
it's more about the path behind the path, or the path within the path. usually we know "our path" good or bad or mundane or extraordinary. there is another path without a master a path of NO master.xxx

Nomenklatura on 15-08-2014
Hypotenuse path
I just liked the way on and no kept appearing near each other.

Better to take the long way round, every time.
I enjoyed this one.

Ewan

Author's Reply:
thanks Ewan ๐Ÿ™‚

Pilgermann on 17-10-2014
Hypotenuse path
The path is moved and we follow moving on.
Strong poem.

Author's Reply:
๐Ÿ™‚

Rosco on 30-05-2015
Hypotenuse path
Negation, denial, and relinguishing occupy a much more central position in your modus operandi than the opposite notions of affirmation, acceptance and integration. Perhaps that's the whole point in suffering and growth.

Author's Reply:
yes, the great No, this particular poem by Cavafis has echoed in my entire being and read it early enough to help me shape what i was destined to write.


Che Fece ... Il Gran Refiuto

For some people the day comes
when they have to declare the great Yes
or the great No. Itโ€™s clear at once who has the Yes
ready within him; and saying it,

he goes from honor to honor, strong in his conviction.
He who refuses does not repent. Asked again,
heโ€™d still say no. Yet that noโ€”the right noโ€”
drags him down all his life.

by Cavafis.


Now (posted on: 14-03-14)
,

Lonely on the edge of dreams watching the waterfall of moments bathed in tropical heat's moisture Lonely like nothing else that ever lived whispering the word dew in God's ear. soft petals as words float around as a reply such is the big truth Now you Know how real is no-one.
Archived comments for Now
Mikeverdi on 15-03-2014
Now
Like this one, thanks for posting.
Mike

Author's Reply:
thanks and you're welcome Mike.

Ionicus on 15-03-2014
Now
Deep thoughts, written in your inimitable style, Nic. I never tire to read your stuff.
Luigi xx

Author's Reply:
Thanks dear Luigi, it's work in progress. i wanted to keep the image of tropical moisture, for some editing reason but only temporarily. not sure about a couple of things in general, but this little draft had the original idea so i posted it.
Nic xxxx

Rosco on 27-05-2014
Now
Searing and illuminating, but this type of thing is going to lead to silence. You have to choose between being a mystic poet and a poetic mystic. The self must reside if you are to make art like this.

Author's Reply:
i don't really have to choose anything forever. at some point i must say: let it be without the authority of any choice. what will happen then? nothing? the end?

choices are for those who believe that this simulation is the reality. if i still haven't reached the point of no return then i will choose this or that.. each choice a path under authority, authorities lure you, reward you or punish you over and over again. but they don't teach anything beyond the authoritative spectrum of this simulation, even our brain is a constant enemy. their ally.


Rosco on 30-05-2015
Now
Is good poetry a form of mystical architecture?

Author's Reply:
i suppose poetry can be a form of mystical architecture, and poetic quality then defined by very odd structures.


Self-addressing as it should be (posted on: 21-02-14)
.

It was a small flat, little girl – All visitors have been right, And it has taken you years To admit that the veranda Wasn't half as large as You thought. So why are you surprised By the fact you're claustrophobic? Why else weren't you willing, The last time you visited this place, Emptied and sold, to enter The bathroom? Instead, you sat on the kitchen floor With an idea for a poem, Which would extol those years, Bricking Eternity up, along With that gray-red-gray rug Mother had put under The skinny fake Christmas tree, Another thing visitors Were right about; however, Quite fortunately, nothing else They've said, seems to be anything But poor adults' defenses to The puzzling effect your Right-wrong-right arguments had On your juvenile conversations With them. Wake up! It's 2014, look around you -- Life for a woman starts at forty Your mother-in-law says. Isn't it time you accept a thing or two, Maybe even more, those adults say to you? I know the answer Odysso, Any city is Troy and Ithaca, Life is the ageless salty wave in between, Jolting the raft-coffin-raft ego, All land is imaginary, And all bricks.
Archived comments for Self-addressing as it should be
Slovitt on 21-02-2014
Self-addressing as it should be
remember the heart of the first three stanzas in this one. lots of good work afterward. i wish i could see the poem printed out as i try to comment, guess i'll go to my printer. it seems to me that your world, the one you've been creating for years, is parallel, and thus never to be joined with the typically understood flow of the world. a rich, semi-private place. imaginary is a word that flits interestingly about, seems to me as important as interpreted in your interaction with the world. good poem.

Author's Reply:
flits? you really mean flit. nice monosyllable word just found it. don't print think of the forests.
thanks and yes the world is full of parallel situations conditions parameters rules and that's why Bruce Lee said what he said.

Leila on 22-02-2014
Self-addressing as it should be
We spend a lot of time trying to make sense of the past... and you have written a very good poem...L

Author's Reply:
Thanks Leila
Nic who agrees with you

chant_z on 24-02-2014
Self-addressing as it should be
This is straight from the hip and it really hits. Very good piece! It's 2014 indeed! Time can be elusive unless you're there...

Author's Reply:
there are so many theories about time, the 4th dimension penetrating ours in a way, currently reading a book about Time and wormholes. so in a way poetry seems to be able to create a wormhole connect different timelines of a poet's life.

e-griff on 27-02-2014
Self-addressing as it should be
I love it. Proper poetry to the core. All the good things a poem can be. Refreshing to read such quality, and meaning.



Author's Reply:
very happy that you love it
Odysso the eccentric weaver of eccentric baskets

Nomenklatura on 27-02-2014
Self-addressing as it should be
Come on! Nib this!

Author's Reply:
thanks for saying such a thing


Odysso (posted on: 21-02-14)
edited old poem retitled. Odysso is the female name of Odysseus/Ulysses.

Standing unaffected, thinking, So detached that for the world She's more and more a missing exhibit, A glass case getting emptier to show Little by little this is what she's becoming. She is not a piece of art, good or bad, Or an intricate piece of machinery, Not a trapped thing, not a stuffed object, Nor one hundred percent visible. Such steadfast privacies can make the world Wonder ad infinitum about the things that Should be there - prey to an unfit mindset - But, for its limited senses, they are not. Ardently determined to withdraw, Unidentifiable for the unhealthily curious, The bumptiously civilized throng, A girl whose real name is Odysso.
Archived comments for Odysso
Slovitt on 21-02-2014
Odysso
n: i remember this one. perhaps, last stanza, add a comma after withdraw, cut the comma after curious. rich poem. swep

Author's Reply:
i think i may cut and instead, yes about the comma after withdraw. i read your submissions pretty good stuff Swep.
N

Slovitt on 24-02-2014
Odysso
perhaps cut "that" at the end of line 4, and if you're going to leave the punctuation in the last stanza as it is now, perhaps

the bumptiously civilized throng



Author's Reply:
hmm, sold!


Till Dreams Do You Part (posted on: 17-02-14)
parallel intuition

The little boy asked his father how many fleas can be found in the barn. The father having no idea said there are probably many. Then the kid asked how long it would take him to find them all. "Here's the deal," his father replied, "find me three fleas and I will calculate how long it would take you." The boy went to the barn and having spent half an hour searching came out thirsty, "No", his father said, "go back in, I will now have to detract the minutes we spent talking," the kid did go back inside. Then two hours later yelled while searching that he is thirsty and hungry and cunningly added "Can you bring me some milk and cookies? I can eat and drink while searching." The father smiled, brought him what he asked. He left and went to bed to take a nap. He had a dream about his child and his weird questions, his puzzling quietness when they visited Mom's grave. He woke up an hour later and on approaching the barn heard him yelling, "Dad, I found one! Can I stop now and you can detract the hours I'll be sleeping after taking a bath?" "Yes," he said wishing this would make him forget the initial question. The next day, however, he saw his son heading for the barn and at some point the boy asked loudly, "Why is mommy dead", "She was very ill and nothing could be done to save her life", he replied, then "where is she now", and the father said "I think she is waiting for us somewhere nice." The father felt as if he was having a deja vou, remembered the dream, his son would now come out, with her. The sobbing however made him go inside instead. Ten years earlier, a young woman about to be married had a dream, she was hugging a child in tears in a barn and Tom rushed inside but couldn't see her and this made her feel odd, as if she was smaller than a flea.
Archived comments for Till Dreams Do You Part
stormwolf on 17-02-2014
Till Dreams Do You Part
Incredible! Nic.

Really original and intriguing piece, much enjoyed.

Alison x


Author's Reply:
having returned from the St Olga emergency department i find your comment which really made me feel positive, thank you very very much now i am sure cortizone will work faster xx (allergic reaction to blue cheese and gluten) (sorry for edits)

stormwolf on 19-02-2014
Till Dreams Do You Part
OMG what a scary thing!
I have also been bed-bound with horrible chesty cough out of the blue (not cheese) ๐Ÿ˜‰
Hope you are on the mend and maybe carrying a Epi-pen ;-(
xxx

Author's Reply:
it was pretty scary since only the head and throat were affected and swollen. still partly swollen, hope you will also start feeling better soon or already feel comfortable with your health again. xxx


Caught (posted on: 17-02-14)
haibun

Time's spiral wraps, trapping almost everything, in incomprehensible diagrams moving up and down, to and fro, in prefixed parameters to wire and hold countless universes within countless worlds, some of which may be parallel, others just unorthodox. Lapsing diameters center and focus inimically, like a cyclopean eye, on Human Existence. Light peers into gravity as summer peers into autumn, and human conscience faces the dullness of a crossword puzzle: Life's secret runs horizontally like a mouse depending on the vertical clue of a dead cat. But even in Time's quantum stomach where all the consumed cosmic particles blend with the elements and their proportions, there is always an End dodging Perpetuation, momentarily coughing up new beginnings, or possibilities if you prefer to call them as such. the swan swims nearer to see the perfect ripples a sole pebble caused
Archived comments for Caught
Slovitt on 17-02-2014
Caught
interesting to read and follow the lines of your prose, and then the haiku is pure, is essential.

Author's Reply:
thanks Swep

N

pdemitchell on 17-02-2014
Caught
I agree - a nice quantum of prose squatting upon a delightful and concise japanese form.

Author's Reply:
thanks pdemitchell i am glad you all like the haiku

ifyouplease

stormwolf on 17-02-2014
Caught
Hi Nic
I am not familiar with this kind of poetry but having read about it, I can see it's not easy to do.
The whole thing is riven with mystery and worlds within worlds, which I believe is the true nature of reality.
The prose part just incredible in its complexity but highlighting the quantum nature that lies beyond human sight.
The haiku a perfect accompaniment in its zen-like quality.
To me it came over as perfect balance ๐Ÿ˜‰

Alison x

Author's Reply:
I am very glad the three of you like the haiku, and find interesting the prose section of this haibun

thank you very much ๐Ÿ™‚
Nic xx

Ionicus on 19-02-2014
Caught
I have never attempted a haibun and probably never will, Nicoletta. It seem to require the special skill of perfectly combining prose and poetry, the latter in haiku form. An art which you appear to have mastered.

Luigi xxx

Author's Reply:
Thanks Luigi I needed your uplifting comment
Nic xxx

barenib on 19-02-2014
Caught
I'm really interested to read this and pleased that you've given us a bit of something different to ponder and enjoy - John.

Author's Reply:
Hi John thanks for reading and commenting, glad you're really pleased and interested
Cheers
Nic


Holy Night (posted on: 15-11-13)
haibun

At the sound of church bells birds fly off, whole towns echo this repeated monotony like human will strongly resonates power on Earth. Sometimes as a token of gratitude, tinctured by repentant hubris, they sound like sharp musical thumps, but usually heavy steps of medieval martyrs and saints march through their sad tone of merciful mystery. At this sound it's easy to picture yourself walking out of the House of Beautiful Seasons anonymous and scant of breath, or imagine living ascetically in frosty exile, as a follower of omnipotent names reciting desperate prayers. Fate, the hieratic entity synchronizing all lives, times our earthly years by the signal of Winter's wind-swept clock and Death's indefinable hour. Spring magnifies transitory renaissance. Summer glorifies ripeness. Autumn makes the sky a factory of rain. Winter can't fool you, with the wan light and the rotting leaves, the hoarfrost made of predeceased dreams. i think of Christmas, a pack of german shepherds roams holy night's streets
Archived comments for Holy Night
Mikeverdi on 15-11-2013
Holy Night
I don't understand why I find no other comments here, in my opinion this is fine writing and deserves more. Mike

Author's Reply:
maybe it has become a good piece after editing it and making it a haibun, i'm glad you think it is fine now. written in 2002 i always liked it enough to try various rewrites and now this form which i guess is the best version so far.

stormwolf on 15-11-2013
Holy Night
Hi Nic

'At this sound itโ€™s easy to picture yourself walking out of the House of Beautiful Seasons anonymous and scant of breath, or imagine living ascetically in frosty exile, as a follower of omnipotent names reciting desperate prayers.'

Fab writing! Congrats on the nib. You paint pictures with your writing and always leave something to the reader's imagination to enrich it even further.
It is deep and meaning full and full of feeling. I am quite blown away at the standard of poetry posted today.

Alison xx

Author's Reply:
thanks Alison, for your warm comment and your congratulations!
Nic xx

Ionicus on 16-11-2013
Holy Night
Dear Nic, this haibun is a nice amalgam of prose and poetry.

Luigi x

Author's Reply:
thanks dear Luigi! Nic xx

EmotiveSoul on 16-11-2013
Holy Night
The very reason I joined this site, is to see the many incarnations of poetry through the eyes of others. This haibun sums up one of many talented writers on this site. Really enjoyed it. Daz

Author's Reply:
thanks Daz. glad you liked it Nic


Looped childhood (posted on: 12-08-13)
III.

I'll have managed to recompose The bucolic scenery south of the town first, "The Silver Flash" rocketing through The summer noon air too. I had not seen from afar this spectacle For I was always the one riding it, So I couldn't have known how enviable it was, My bicycle 3 months later taken. I will then revisit this place, I'll take the hands of the thief and tell him "We are going for a ride, I want to show you some things Can never be stolen." And he will cry with me When we reach the shore, 7.46 miles beyond the cornfields, And let him hold the shells I found there Some purple, some white, some golden.
Archived comments for Looped childhood
geordietaf on 14-08-2013
Looped childhood
A haunting piece which, though short, has a lot to savour. I really liked

"The Silver Flash" rocketing through
The summer noon air too.

and

And let him hold the shells I found there
Some purple, some white, some golden.

Author's Reply:
hi geordietaf, thank you very much!

bethybob on 30-10-2013
Looped childhood
I learnt a new word from this. "Bucolic" Yey.

Also I agree with Geordietaf, I love the phrase
"The silver Flash" rocketing through

Question- would it not make sense to add the word "that" after the line "Ill show you some things" rather than going straight to "can never be stolen"? I find that that line doesn't read well for me.

But I d very much like it.

Beth ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:
thanks for your comment, don't we say "some things never change"? can't we say "some things can never be stolen"?

Nic

Mikeverdi on 02-06-2016
Looped childhood
"Some things can never be stolen"
I love this line, my memories of my times in Greece are a testament to this.
M8ke

Author's Reply:
thankyou Mike

Nic


Looped childhood (posted on: 09-08-13)
II.

When going on vacation in summer was only for the richer families, Mother took advantage of the large veranda. 'Now this will be our sea, put on your swimsuits and sunscreen and we will have fun together.' All it took was a hot day, a hose, and her 'Watch that wave, it's huge.' or her 'There might be sharks out there!' and we, like baby seals, belly-gliding on slabs of wet marble, slid into the habit of seeing other things.
Archived comments for Looped childhood
Mikeverdi on 09-08-2013
Looped childhood
I really like this, it tells a story that I understand; I'm not sure its poetry and I think that you could leave out the words 'her'...but that's just me; I still love it! Mike

Author's Reply:
i don't think it's prose and i certainly think it looks like a poem, for more than eight years i've been editing this one and it's still work in progress. stanzas will change probably. thanks for your kind remarks, Mike.

stormwolf on 10-08-2013
Looped childhood
Hi Nic

This one made me feel warm in the heart area. It was full of love for your mother and poignant in its looking back at lost days. I really loved it.

Alison xx

Author's Reply:
Thanks Alison. I may post one more, it is called the Silver Flash and completes the trilogy Looped Childhood, this Monday.
Nic xx

ValDohren on 11-08-2013
Looped childhood
This is lovely - how childhood should be so well expressed.
Val

Author's Reply:
thanks Val ๐Ÿ™‚

Weefatfella on 11-08-2013
Looped childhood
 photo 915e0b75-fce7-4fc2-9921-556099197c13_zps1f6b3c50.jpg
Excellent!
We used to get two weeks messages ( Shopping) close the blinds and pretend to the neighbours we were away. Weefatfella.


Author's Reply:
hehe thanks!

Andrea on 11-08-2013
Looped childhood
Ah yes. How easy it is to 'see other things' when being told to, eh?

Author's Reply:
hmm, I don't know Andrea. I only know that back then it worked at least once.

Bozzz on 11-08-2013
Looped childhood
A great scene, in my book not 'poetry' but delightful heart-warming 'prosetry'. ...thanks for sharing...Bozzz

Author's Reply:
prosetry - poetry, it depends on what kind of poetry you like - it has something which is special enough to get a nib, comments and three nines so I'm happy. thanks!

Rosco on 12-08-2013
Looped childhood
Beautiful to see this veranda poem or a variation of it again.
The imagination is an extraordinary topic. Always has been.

Author's Reply:
you remember this one? that's amazing. thanks for remembering and commenting. seven comments! wow.


Looped childhood (posted on: 29-07-13)
I.

Two old women sitting right across the street, a cracked pavement between two dynastic houses, in a small town of creaky buildings and large mosquitoes. I make furtive glances in their direction. They are knitting table runners, but, for some strange reason, I feel as if they knit my fate as well. I can almost feel their hands, calloused and industrious, looping future events of my life. A tricycle whizzes along the road, they stop for a moment, checking each other's progress, then look at me. I blush, cover my face with my hands and think of the sea.
Archived comments for Looped childhood
dylan on 29-07-2013
Looped childhood
Concise and evocative-you capture the moment well.
Really liked some of your descriptions-
"a cracked pavement between two dynastic houses,
in a small town of creaky buildings, and large mosquitoes"
"I can almost feel their hands,
calloused and industrious, looping future events of my life. "
Why the sea in the last line, I wonder? Is it a symbol of freedom, escape, happier times?
Anyway, a fine poem.
Orrabest,

D.

Author's Reply:
yes a symbol of freedom thanks D.
Orrabest
Nic

Ionicus on 01-08-2013
Looped childhood
Beautiful writing as always, Nic. Enjoyed this enormously.

Luigi x

Author's Reply:
thanks Luigi! xx

Zoya on 01-08-2013
Looped childhood
Dear ifyou, I really loved the atmosphere it captures and transports you into a world of narrow lanes and dark alley of somewhere, say an Italian town... And the weaving is really symbolic! Old ladies do weave magic into there wares... And yes this does effect your future, as do all childhood memories... A compact piece, as Dylon put it.
Zoya

Author's Reply:
thanks Zoya
ifyou x

Rosco on 12-08-2013
Looped childhood
I was 25 when I saw them. I'm still scared. You didn't even use the word black dresses, but I was sure you did. The innocence narrative you do so well. The beginning of internalizing.

Author's Reply:
no i never used the word black dresses


Truth (posted on: 08-07-13)
Truth had been nude-modeling for me;

Truth had been nude-modeling for me; I lied to her and told her I'm an artist. She likes to be seen as an art object; She said philosophers want to possess her. They ask her questions, they want to put her under tests. Not the kind of tests that involve any undressing And she wants to revert to being a female body, Wants to get rid of all her universal values. I was bringing her orange juice, trying to make her Stay longer; finding themes that take forever to paint, And when she told me once she loves tropical islands, I was given a chance, I grabbed the opportunity and Took her to such a place. On our return she lost her energy. I had to be careful, I needed a good plan. So I planted two coconut trees in bare spots of my yard for her, She keeps visiting me to check their growth, Her eyes sparkle with excitement. In ten years from now, a hammock, my rubbing her feet to relax, A poodle and she will be unconditionally mine, And I can be myself.
Archived comments for Truth
Texasgreg on 08-07-2013
Truth
Aye! Truth is in the eye of the beholder just as in beauty.

Greg ๐Ÿ™‚

 photo Gunspincowboy.gif

Author's Reply:
Hi Greg, thanks for reading and commenting. how are things in Texas? your country has thunderstorms right? don't know about your state. more than 10 thousand lightnings somewhere.

Savvi on 08-07-2013
Truth
Its always good to plan ahead ๐Ÿ™‚ I enjoyed the quirky nature of this and the one sidedness is a little sad. Good work. S

Author's Reply:
thanks Savvi for reading commenting and generously rating

๐Ÿ˜‰
Nic

Texasgreg on 09-07-2013
Truth
We do get pretty strong storms from time-to-time. Odd, but I enjoy the crashing and night lighting up. I do hang up the golf clubs and stay in, though. ๐Ÿ˜‰

Greg ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:
well according to my subscriptions feed on youtube it's much worse than what you experience, totally weird weather and lots of chem-trails not only in your state and country but everywhere.

PS of course the subject of "chem-trails" is in the eye of the beholder...

stormwolf on 09-07-2013
Truth
Hi Nic ๐Ÿ˜‰
I love this. I love when we take a concept and humanise it. Like the best allegorical painting. The imagery sets the scene too....one of my favs of yours.
Truth is very ellusive, so make sure you treat her well.
Alison xx

BTW agree totally re weather changes. just saying that to someone the other day. Have seen compilations of what is really happening all over the globe weather-wise these last 12 months..Yes and the chem-trails are everywhere and we have been told they forcast wet summers for the next ten years. When man imitates God, they sow the seeds of their own destruction.
take good care Nic xxx

Author's Reply:
you too Alison thanks for commenting and rating
Nic
xxx

Mikeverdi on 09-07-2013
Truth
There is a strangeness to this poem that I find intriguing, if not a little disturbing in places. Brilliantly concocted, although I think the lay out could be better.(just an opinion) Mike

Author's Reply:
this poem is rather old a repost actually here too, had a nib. never edited this one. i knew exactly what to write and how from the first word, one of those weird moments you are entirely focused on a specific idea and inspiration. thanks for reading and rating Mike

Nic

Pronto on 09-07-2013
Truth
a lovely gentle poem with a great flow. Just one point though it's difficlt to anything worthwhile in a hammock ๐Ÿ˜‰

Author's Reply:
thanks Pronto ๐Ÿ˜‰

Bozzz on 10-07-2013
Truth
This story has merit as a prose seduction sequence - elegant in thought and in part intriguing, but as Mike points out, it loses impact because of its form. Despite its problems, I liked it's quirky progress....Bozzz.

Author's Reply:
i don't always write poetry, i prefer the term prosetry. i don't want this to become "poem" i want it as it is, prosetry. thanks for commenting, i understand what you say and you're quite right. but it's prosetry and there's no such genre here or anywhere. so far. heh ๐Ÿ˜‰

Ionicus on 11-07-2013
Truth
I have always been an admirer of your unique artistic style, Nic,
and it is a pleasure to re-read this composition of yours, skilfully crafted.

Luigi x

Author's Reply:
a big thank you Luigi, you are a gentleman and a prolific, good poet. i think we have known each other as members of ukauthors and abctales since 2002. 11 years!

Nic x


The thunders (posted on: 03-06-13)
haibun

On a night of interloping images inveigling one into seeing nothing but the phantom of reality, sleepless hours are outwitted by fugitive connotations of transient affinities, the moon masks this dark confusion that robs lucidity. This magnetic satellite transmitting lunacy is like the framed sketch of a grim monarch, shadowy and argentine with beady eyes, who has a crow roosting next to atrocity as his only companion. Strange commands echo in the wilderness like thunders ordering the dead to survive, the sun to melt like an iceberg and love to extinguish with sand the cold sea. stricken by lightning tree's interlacing branches blur the city lights
Archived comments for The thunders
japanesewind on 03-06-2013
The thunders
Really enjoyed the haiku to this poem IYP.....David

Author's Reply:
thanks David

Pronto on 06-06-2013
The thunders
Awsome wordsmithery! Well crafted and a pleasure to read.

Author's Reply:
thanks Pronto!


The expiator (posted on: 24-05-13)
surreal haibun (edited)

Halo maybe wings, that's what he wishes for. Yet Saturn's son has refused to give anything but more sun, more rain, more infinite canvas with unfinished drawings of blue women with moon-white lips and mountain-black hair, more eyeless statues of spear-men placed on rotating pedestals serving as inanimate male radars, more promises for a perpetual blank dream that will one day attack him, like a cobra locking eyes with her captor. Thinks: is there anything left on the planet he can trick Zeus with? A giant dummy perhaps. Eros holding it, no sack. wings on mortal wounds angels fall, some shapeshift, Zeus adds to him horns
Archived comments for The expiator
Rosco on 24-05-2013
The expiator
The second and third sentences are gorgeous.

A sackless Eros holding a giant dummy?

Author's Reply:
the last verse of the haiku is not clear. the horns are not for him. it's for helot-phobic Endymion. anyway. thanks Ross, work in progress it is. edited it. okay no the dummy holds the sack that contains the truth about everything. Eros whirls holding a giant dummy (which represents humanity) around the axis of imagination. remember John Lennon's Imagine? sack has been opened. no need to carry a sack. it's gone.

Rosco on 01-06-2013
The expiator
edit:
Eros holding it, no regrets.

Author's Reply:
it's part of surreal abstract work.


Silent Ophiophagus (posted on: 20-05-13)
haibun

If God decided to abandon everything and disappear in a thick forest, no longer invisible or invincible, he would become a Centaur, half-man, half-horse without the burden of being Man's Creator, not lost, but wandering, sifting his clean-handed and other choices, scarcely audible, hardly traceable, every so often discernible, a perfect challenge for any Amazon, and throughout his years in search of his. cobra leaves her nest, hunts the killer for revenge, no hissing instinct.
Archived comments for Silent Ophiophagus
e-griff on 20-05-2013
Silent Ophiophagus
Bloody good! Quite an exceptional little poem. Nice to see your work again. Missed you, oh eccentric one!

Author's Reply:
where have you been all this time, i've been posting quite regularly for a while, i think since 2011 again *opens brand new tab* oh no make that 10...
thanks Griffy i am very glad you liked it so much.

stormwolf on 21-05-2013
Silent Ophiophagus
Hi Nic
Adored the first bit..(got a thing about Centaurs) ..did not quite get the second bit....but got me thinking...
Yes, you are eccentric..eccentricity rules!
Alison xx

Author's Reply:
hi Alison, the second bit, the haiku is connected with "and other choices" so guess whom the cobra is after.
king cobras have very special behaviours and eat other snakes, they also never forget the killer of a partner, a captor and guard their nests 90 days - leave them when the eggs are about to hatch so as not to eat the tiny baby-snakes. a special animal. xx

Slovitt on 22-05-2013
Silent Ophiophagus
n.: remember the prose section of your haibun, formatted more traditionally as part of an individual poem (You?). the haiku, even with your remarks to alison, doesn't connect to the prose for me. ominous, but on its own island. interesting writing. swep

Author's Reply:

Rosco on 23-05-2013
Silent Ophiophagus
Extraordinary mind exercise that can lead you down different paths very readily. The reading is shaped by how you interpret the Centaur. I know you defy the Bible as a current influence. I keep seeing the Garden of Good and Evil underneath these pieces and The Fall as central whether it be whirling or cloven stand ins. I know I'm wrong. I know. The dual nature of the Centaur keeps one thinking and thinking about the implications especially since God embodies it!

Author's Reply:
you call one tree a garden?

remember we took you to Epidavros that's the place of Centaurs and Amazons, it's about the dual nature of course of human beings wrote it in the wise dummies too, double-crossing, if one sex prevails it double-crosses the other. but

you call one tree a garden? what would you call innumerable gardens?

told you but you probably didn't pay attention even invited you to join that philosophical facebook page i had created Garden of Ideas. it was in Greek. did you join? Vasie could have have helped you, she could translate posts. let's find a snake and put the blame on her.

the initial lie, the first false, implanted idea. it's in the bible yes. there's no rest. God doesn't need rest, perfection doesn't need rest, it doesn't fall asleep. remember that other poem i wrote? about Snow white... the glass coffin... we live outside the perfect creation, in a dream that's getting deeper.


The thud (posted on: 13-05-13)
surrealism, abstract prosetry, In Return and The Wise Dummies meet. special thanks to Rosco

'Who' now carries a large sack containing the truth of 'whoever's' life, which reminds me... "few 'whos' out there dare to open these sacks, most 'whos' seem to enjoy being governed by what they convey, sacks of secrets they don't want to open at all"... Which reminds me of what I want to address So I ask them about their condition, in the name of a dervish whirling around the axis of I's imagination and they reply... We're discussing, speaking out, surmising, marveling and wondering ...Being a clamant crowd with gales of laughter or uproarious threnodies ...As if silence isn't our mother, as if knowledge is not her child. ...Gropingly we search the pockets of Morpheus ...For cuttings of dreams that reproduce ceaselessly during sleep ...And like stray devotees of life's gigs we whisper ...The handwriting on the wall… In all the roads of life, the milestones are our secrets okay, I said, ...Piles of rocks and threadbare arguments, scraps from clothes we once wore with pride ...And all these form an irregular outline, an eccentric spiral ..Whose corrugations gapingly house ...A doomed choir of whos that sing a roundelay about quietus I said okay! I said. I leave this lurid place, go to another, this one is empty, just a forest. No wives no axes no need to call the police.. Now I am whirling holding a dummy that holds an ax and carries a sack. 'Who am I' speaks. Suddenly there is an audience of 'who are they' holding dummies doing the same. This demands the most untrustworthy plural I thought and proceeded ...Dummies what do you think you are if not ventriloquists? I ask they don't reply ...How did your palms acquire their lines if not from clenching fate? I ask they don't ...And then quickly hiding it in one of those sacks? I ask they ...Within shy limits you face each new day ignorant of what? I ask ...and did that... and was that what... instigated a merciless appetence to remain dummies? I ...Carrying what implements the obligation that arises from denial from fear from anger from ... Yes! comes with a thud.
Archived comments for The thud
Rosco on 13-05-2013
The thud
The sack is a good metaphor as it suggest a folk tale and the magic power of common things. The ending is funny and somehow appropriate. I would be tempted to keep combining the poems to see how many ways they fit together.
(you could also put the interjections in italics to mark them off from the main text)

Author's Reply:
the ending is not funny at all. you have to picture the whole scene. like your brother, as you mentioned in another comment, i am quite interested in dervishes, because of a film, this one

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14Jgk1pNMus

the thud is all the dervishes and their dummies falling down after they get dizzy when the first truth emerges from their sacks insinuating what else is hidden in them. thanks Ross

i will combine, two have already become a haibun, this one has become a surreal microtale.

Rosco on 14-05-2013
The thud
Is the falling your projection on this art as a metaphor rather than an actual dance event in this dervish tradition where I assume such dancers are attempting to achieve a deeper union at the finish? The intention of this assembly you have is not at all humorous I know. The sudden collapse and sound effect in this moment of surrealist resolution affected my peculiar amusement. I think humour actually strengthens writing as a leavening agent. T.S. Eliot and Dylan can be very funny while being deadly serious in their art. This is quite a serious portrayal artistically and even mimics the motion of the dance in some way while undoing its conclusion. Profound alienation from and of the self as suggested through dummies, ventriloquists and private knowledge sacks seems to me an effective statement of this inescapable dimension of our existence in cruel contrast to the ecstatic spiritual union implied in the dance. My brother has a rather absurd interest in such things as he has no significant knowledge of these Middle Eastern cultural traditions which on on the Persian side are very deep. Hafiz's work alone is testimony to this, although Rumi is now more popular than almost any other poet in history.

Author's Reply:
indeed.

Rosco on 16-05-2013
The thud
The statement of the freedom of the imagination is timely as religion and institutional corporate thought drown the imaginative voice. You are working toward an almost Blakean sentiment: "I must Create a System. or be enslav'd by another Man's. I will not Reason & Compare: my business is to Create."

Lyric poetry is deeply Romantic despite the tides of history.
I still find the preternatural child, adolescent, young adult voice found in some of your poems (about which I wrote quite a bit at one time) to be among the most affecting, original, and truly uncanny of your writing. Putting history and a bigger stage into lyric poetry is very challenging. I fear it's too late in any case.


Author's Reply:
yeah "my business is to create", i believe that too. no matter what and even if it's too late.

Rosco on 16-05-2013
The thud
Where are all your readers? You used to have quite a following. Oh God, another desert prophet. I may be a bad influence. There's nothing more of an anathema to readers than my work.

Author's Reply:
the desert is my creation. read THE TWO HEADED MAN.

it's my choice.


Gardening Ego (posted on: 06-05-13)
two old poems become a haibun.

One can be the fulfillment or the dream, not the fulfillment of the dream, and one's eyes can see innumerable horizons, but not all the birds that fly toward one. garden in motion tireless are the wings of birds heading to the south
Archived comments for Gardening Ego
japanesewind on 07-05-2013
Gardening Ego
Admire your keeping in mind poems that may gel.
same here.

This one gives me, a challenge, I like clarity, and am still trying to decipher this haibuns full meaning....

thanks for posting.David

Author's Reply:
i decided to post this haibun after a philosophical discussion i had with two female relatives-in-law, as you may remember i had commented a while back on one of yours saying that i must try this too, i write by editing old stuff lately, new poems in new forms emerge and i rather enjoy that. i was sure there was a haibun hidden somewhere in my older poems and that two of them desperately "want" to be united, combined in this particular form. i haven't written many haikus, so it was easy to find at least half of the haibun, the first poem that is now the first part, was an apocalyptic moment, the last five days or so i was thinking i could use these two, then i had this conversation which convinced me. there is nothing obscure about it, i like clarity too, but it depends on the reader, oversimplification of clarity has the opposite effect however. your latest haibun is crystal clear without the oversimplification, at least to me, and i admired it too and almost added it to my favorites. so, later i will try to offer you an explanation about Gardening Ego. yours is perfectly clear as it is. but it's a haibun for a philosophical discussion and my comment (prosthetic notion) was as concise as possible. either privately or publicly i would like to discuss about your poem.

japanesewind on 07-05-2013
Gardening Ego
No, please, no explanation for me, I will keep coming back to this, I did so now to tell you that the line

"garden in motion" is beautiful.

David.

Author's Reply:
okay, great! thanks

Andrea on 07-05-2013
Gardening Ego
'haibun'! Lovely ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:
thanks Andrea ๐Ÿ™‚

Rosco on 23-05-2013
Gardening Ego
A poetic Zen Koan: evocative, elusive, instructive and beautiful.

Author's Reply:
when a woman is in labour
is she a pregnant woman or a mother?

thanks for adding it to your favorite list.


A Moment With Grandma (posted on: 22-04-13)
poem

I've cleaned my flat, given dental sticks to my dog. The halogen heater placed upon a bookcase, Grandma's blanket torn. Looking at it, I light my cigarette. A conspicuous pattern surrounds my home. The doorbell rings, it could be her, as my neighbouring self, arriving in the nick of time to blow out the candles on a suspended birthday cake.
Archived comments for A Moment With Grandma
Nomenklatura on 22-04-2013
A Moment With Grandma
Succinct and thought-provoking, and very enjoyable thereby.

Author's Reply:
thankyou

whatacutebum on 22-04-2013
A Moment With Grandma
very nice ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:
thanks!

freya on 24-04-2013
A Moment With Grandma
Nicoletta, minimal and excellent. You've created a palpable sense of loss. Shelagh

Author's Reply:

Witchysmyth on 29-04-2013
A Moment With Grandma
I love your succinct portrayal of the profound.

Author's Reply:
tyvm and welcome to uka.


The Wise Dummies (posted on: 12-04-13)
surreal microtale

He opened his mouth slightly and kept it like that, a being in its own right. He spoke without moving his lips or tongue, his mouth was somehow too far away from his larynx. "There will be... There will be... Disasters." "You tell us what the spirits tell you, which is what we expect." "I have told you what you already knew, what they learned from all of us, before we were born, not what dies before the telling or what exists beyond any thoughts." It suddenly dawns on everyone, "We only know about disasters ruining a good breakfast, a nice fuck, we are all dual, two creatures of semi-anonymous double-crossing idiosyncrasy, what could become the telling when nobody is around? Unechoed ventriloquism."
Archived comments for The Wise Dummies
stormwolf on 12-04-2013
The Wise Dummies
Ha! You have excelled yourself here Nic. If a tree falls in the forest...and all that. Loved it!

Alison xxx

Author's Reply:
thanks Alison for commenting and rating
very kind of you
Xxx

japanesewind on 13-04-2013
The Wise Dummies
I too came to the same thought as Alison, interesting!!

all the best.D

Author's Reply:
thanks for commenting, it's interesting that this is what at least two readers thought too. best, Nic

Rosco on 21-04-2013
The Wise Dummies
To me that represents the inhuman side, the point beyond consciousness. Ventriloquism is a great metaphor worthy of Spinoza.

Author's Reply:
we ask - we reply ..we think somebody else did but it's our own subconscious larynx ..we will always want to know the future which is an unechoed ventriloquism of our past questions and answers. yes time is inhuman.


In return (posted on: 28-01-13)
surreal abstract prosetry, inspired by Russell Edson's originality.

– Now die to your heart's content – And tell me you can't fetch wood … --Russell Edson, "The Fetcher of Wood" A man is chopping wood in the forest, his wife approaches and tells him ... So you don't dare to drop dead like Edson's old man in order to avoid chopping wood today. He says ...Edson's old man was a sissy and chops her head off. I decide to enter this lurid place whirling like a dervish. 'Who' is now trying to bury the cadaver, 'who' sees me as I approach and says ... What are you doing here? I say something, I guess I also say ... I saw everything, no you are not a sissy, but now I will have to call the police. 'Who' says ...Stop whirling around, I want to chop your head off, as I am not a sissy. I stop whirling and let him do it and then I start talking again and I am now 'a talking head' whirling around the axis of I's imagination, while 'who' stains with poisonous slime the borders of unreality. Nothing changes what 'who' did, 'who' places my head on the wood and accurately splits it into two twos to stop it from talking. I pretend I am dead, watch him burying the dead flesh of everything he ever. Fictitious days later, we return, arm in arm, but 'who' doesn't see us. He is now 'Whoever'. Has nothing to. I've found her another man at the other end of, a man that was a sissy who, but first I cut off her tongue that. She gladly let me do which, for a pen under the delusion it belongs to its axis, is right, in return..
Archived comments for In return
Slovitt on 28-01-2013
In return
iyp: an interesting tale, probably a little more imaginative than any of edson's prose poems. perhaps "A man is chopping wood in the forest, his wife approaches and says...don't drop dead like edson's old man just to avoid chopping wood today."

like your entrance into the poem, "I decide to enter this lurid place whirling like a dervish."

perhaps "who" says...stop whirling, I'll chop your head off. I am not a sissy."

strong last line. interesting piece. swep

Author's Reply:

japanesewind on 28-01-2013
In return
I.Y.P. I enjoyed this, not an easy write too I would imagine. David

Author's Reply:
thanks David - i still like it, i edited one line before re-posting it after nearly 3 years. does it seem like that? not easy i.e. hmm

Nic

stormwolf on 31-01-2013
In return
I now have to go and lie down in a darkened room LOL
I tried, Nic, I really tried to understand it but alas your imaginative, creativity out-did me. ๐Ÿ˜‰
Alison x

Author's Reply:
thanks for trying xx

Rosco on 19-04-2013
In return
Sounds like a contemporary Eve to me, especially now the Bible is interpreted by gnostics and the like as an imaginative construct with dynamic, internal identities rather than literal entities. As such Eve is equated with the light-maiden of Sophia (Wisdom), creator of the word (Logos) of God in her challenge to man.


Mix in writing about writing as the supreme function of art, a folk tale and a Persian disguise for good measure.

My brother is researching Dervishes now. It's all in the imagination for Connecticut boys. I'd say Edson is the grandson of Wallace Stevens and not much more.

Author's Reply:
The bible was the last thing i had in mind when i wrote this, but i wanted something imaginatively dynamic, actually what i am showing here is the dual nature of men and women, a nature only a dervish can transcend, the dervish being whatever can revolve around the axis of I's imagination and transform the dream into a general catharsis bring justice for all dual natures and show no mercy for their dual crimes: it's the justice of the second chance for which there is no merciful third, the dream continues however...


Dialogues (posted on: 04-01-13)
poem

Lately I talk with darkness quite a lot and on-and-off, asking how come it never once desired to become constant light, it remains silent. On such occasions I cannot sense whether it cries or smiles. Sometimes it simply vanishes giving its place to a sullen flash, and I am the one who can make this sudden brightness fail or last.
Archived comments for Dialogues
deed on 05-01-2013
Dialogues
I like this poem about mood. Why does the darkness not just become light then it will never return. However, it can't change its nature so a reply to your question is beneath it. Happily there exists light also and the darkness goes away when the light comes. The light is stronger than the darkness. Then the narrator realises that the appearance of light and darkness is within their control. Very good poem.

Author's Reply:
great comment, thanks for your comment and your generous rating.

Texasgreg on 06-01-2013
Dialogues
I liken the split of night and day to good and evil...

You would never know what one was without the other...

Greg ๐Ÿ™‚


Author's Reply:
a poem about mood not evil and good, but yes you never know what etc quite right
cheers Greg

Rosco on 23-04-2013
Dialogues
My friend would call this a perfect description of manic depression.

Author's Reply:
la dolce maggot.


Different (posted on: 04-01-13)
poem, practically new

Night snakes crawl around wine barrels. The naked light bulb falls for a wildflower. He follows in the footsteps of Theseus, trying to break a tragic deal. She tries to do better, immersing herself in her ego's pond and emerging from narcissism total.
Archived comments for Different
Slovitt on 04-01-2013
Different
iyp: reallly like the last 10 lines. don't understand the conncection of the first two couplets to the rest of the poem. interesting as always, provocative. swep

Author's Reply:

Texasgreg on 05-01-2013
Different
Aye! Your explanation assisted me. Very good symbolism...

Greg ๐Ÿ™‚

Photobucket.

Author's Reply:
Glad my explanation assisted one of the most famous sheriffs in a previous life!

butters on 06-01-2013
Different
so much will be missed by so many (myself included) not au fait with the mythology/religious undertow to this. that's not to say you should dumb down the write to appeal to a wider audience, just that its nature will limit the number of those who'll hear what you're saying.

thankyou for the behind-the-scenes of this write - it makes an interesting poem even deeper for me.

Author's Reply:
the next parts will clarify things. i think most people know about Theseus and the first miracle of Jesus. this is the first part, there are three more. thanks for saying it's interestingly deep.

Rosco on 10-01-2013
Different
I prefer the spooky subjectivity of Vigilance. I'm terrified thinking of you looking out through the eyes of Snow White. When you climb into a poem, it still makes me shiver, particularly where marble or glass or steel are concerned. Writing from the outside in always raises certain defenses; writing from the other place strips those practices, at least long enough for the reader to be struck.

Author's Reply:
........

ps: say hi to Dominique with the amazing mind. ๐Ÿ™‚


Wishing methods (posted on: 04-01-13)
happy new year ukaneers

When you no longer believe in wishes, life must have proved you something and if, despite the proof, you still wish people well, do not flatter yourself you are that kind, or that you can so easily rise above solitary unluckiness. You're now in search of some sort of verification, in other lives, on not personal levels. After losing faith in private seeking, once you come across opposite evidence there's your chance to become a saintly unfortunate figure among lucky acquaintances. Till then you're not. So you either shut your mouth or cynically carry on wishing everybody the best.
Archived comments for Wishing methods
Texasgreg on 05-01-2013
Wishing methods
Aye! Were you a famous philosopher in previous life? Pursuit is my ambition. Though cold reality sets in at times, I encourage my inner child to ignore truths and replace them with fantasy of a perfect world.

Greg ๐Ÿ™‚

Photobucket.

Author's Reply:
i don't know, were you a famous sheriff in one of yours? heheh thanks for commenting.

orangedream on 06-01-2013
Wishing methods
And a happy new year to you, too;-)

Tina

Author's Reply:
thanks Tina ๐Ÿ˜‰

Savvi on 06-01-2013
Wishing methods
Why choose reality when we have imagination to drape veils with, appy new ears. S

Author's Reply:
the poem is not about reality or imagination, it's about cold statistical facts. most people think their wishes came true, or that they will one day. a cynic is almost certain of the opposite. thanks

"ears" is a greeting between me and my brother so allow me

αυτάκια.

Rosco on 10-01-2013
Wishing methods
Always pleased to see you writing. I'm still fascinated by the way your subject matter shapes your work and your relation to it as if different personas stage different types of poems. You become a powerful version of yourself as you write a illuminating poem like this i.e. the one with the impeccable arguments.

Author's Reply:
thanks Ross

Rosco on 23-04-2013
Wishing methods
If you couldn't use "un" you might implode. Just kidding.

Author's Reply:
what do you mean? Just kidding.


The Exit (posted on: 28-12-12)


A mirror for a gravestone - our place among the dead - Reflecting an ever changing sky. The moon will illuminate the exit of our destiny, Rays cutting deep where we are, buried in God's eye.
Archived comments for The Exit
stormwolf on 28-12-2012
Phi (The Exit)
Hi Nic ๐Ÿ™‚
I cannot say I understood it absolutely but the imagery is wonderful and the feeling it evokes is of a soul talking.
Alison x

Author's Reply:
hi Alison, have you read Vigilance? Upsilon (vigilance), or Omega? or Psi?
glad you found the imagery that good! xx

japanesewind on 28-12-2012
Phi (The Exit)
oooww this proper appeals to me, i like the thought of this for real...D

Author's Reply:
thanks D!


Endymion (posted on: 28-12-12)
.

A young man about to sing the song of happiness stopped by the tawny owl in his youth's pine tree. The thought of being a misinformed taster holding a clay bowl, while a helot from the future, waits to fill it with something no one can avoid best not linger; an endlessly-asleep-hypothesis unties the wine-skin. Is there a bigger enemy of life and beauty than the fear of age and decay?
Archived comments for Endymion
butters on 28-12-2012
Chi (Endymion)
an endlessly-asleep-hypothesis

unties the wine-skin.



quite lovely, these lines



fear of the future can make for ugly living, stealing the beauty of the 'now', but your last three lines do not sit as sweetly for me as their predecessors - not what they say, but how it is phrased. ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:
what do you mean? give me an idea.

butters on 28-12-2012
Chi (Endymion)
oh-kayyyy - all that comes before has a dreamlike/visionary feel to it (alcohol-induced or moon-struck, whatever the case may be ๐Ÿ˜€ ) due to the word-choices and imagery presented to us.





your final lines side-step all of that; they present a question = good, something for the reader to consider past the end of the read, but do so in a pretty prosaic manner. perhaps this is important for the poem? if so, I'm missing why right at this minute. reality v the half-delusions of before, cold sobriety v the under-the-influence flights of fancy? I guess what I mean to say is that the qualities your first two stanzas possess are, for me, lacking in your third. It would sit easier with me if the same imagination re visuals had been continued just for that ending.





purely my own reaction to this, and others might see it entirely differently. ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:
the helot from the future is his own self. he must live life or sleep eternally to stay young and handsome, the previous title of the poem was Modern Endymion since it is my version of a myth. have you read anything about this myth? probably yes, since you said "moon-struck and Selene is the name of the moon in Greek) for the time being it's Upsilon (Endymion) -

Selene so loved how Endymion looked when he was asleep in the cave on Mount Latmus, near Miletus in Caria,[9] that she entreated Zeus that he might remain that way. In either case, Zeus granted her wish and put him into an eternal sleep. Every night, Selene visited him where he slept.

stormwolf on 29-12-2012
Chi (Endymion)
Beautiful, Nic

The last stanza was so full of power that it could have stood alone.
Alison xx

Author's Reply:
thanks Alison, i'm glad you think it's beautiful

Nic xx

Rosco on 23-04-2013
Chi (Endymion)
I would end it at "fear", but I grew up with the mushroom cloud. We often seem to write about the same thing without having anything in common except being incarcerated in the same prison with the same command.

Author's Reply:
la dolce prison too.


The Exile (posted on: 28-12-12)
theatrical prosetry

% I am about to love the way you tell me you believe in spirits. But I've never said such a thing. % I am about to love the way you tell me you've never said such a thing. But I've never said such a thing and never having said such a thing regarding spirits is some kind of loving you already. % I am about to love the way then you deny everything using stupidly phrased denials. I don't believe people in exile can love. % Look at you! I won't! % But you will, one day, on the ship of the exiled who loved me.
Archived comments for The Exile
Texasgreg on 30-12-2012
The Exile
Aye! Have looked at this a couple of times now and have decided that complexity may be why no comments. It's deep, IMO. I'm seeing it as an emotional love affair that went no further.

Beautiful!

Gregorie ๐Ÿ™‚

Photobucket.

Author's Reply:
thanks for commenting, glad you think this is beautiful Gregorie, (Gregorie is vocativus (the vocative case) of Gregorios, i think your name has the best sound in French btw. Gregoire. Oh lร  lร  !)

stormwolf on 03-01-2013
The Exile
Did not understand it Nic.
Your mind is a treasure chest but sometimes too deep for lil ole me ๐Ÿ˜‰

Alison x

Author's Reply:
well it would be perhaps easier to start seeing things if you read Greg's comment - then you may ask yourself what kind of exile, why on a ship, why sentiments of fondness send people to exile, who is the person about to love being already in exile?


Nearing (posted on: 24-12-12)
poem

The way things go, The world of financial Dead ends, turns Us against its interests, You protest, while I sit home blogging for Greece. The way things go, All we have is hope, Destined to dream about Some fairer place Our dog can sniff at Wagging her tail on the left.
Archived comments for Nearing
Slovitt on 26-12-2012
Nearing
nicoletta: a successful small poem. swep

Author's Reply:
thanks Swep.


Vigilance (posted on: 24-12-12)
.

There are those who mind Their own universe, wind The clock of its dwarf time, Those who think there's Nothing beyond individuals Of the dead and alive kind. Poets are simply not like them, They stare at themselves in a mirror, Only to see God's Creation Placed in a glass coffin, Where petite human dreams Stand vigilant by the side of A phantom Snow White.
Archived comments for Vigilance
Slovitt on 24-12-2012
Vigilance
ifyouplease: an interesting poem with arresting images. swep

Author's Reply:
Mr Lovitt, send a pm if you want us to discuss about something you may or may not want - or need - to know. i am certainly not sure if i need to know whether you want to know or not, but i may not reveal anything if you want to know in a way i don't approve or it is generally unacceptably risky. it is indeed something one must know, however and it's going to be -if there will ever be- a belated revelation of you will be the judge proportions.

hope you are fine Mr Lovitt and thanks for your comment. the subject is serious and i tried my best to introduce you to it in an eccentric and perhaps slightly funny way. the subject is very serious and it could be life-changing and this life-changing element is what may hinder me in the end and make me resort to irrelevance or silence which is something i've successfully done for years now avoiding to reveal what i may never reveal after all.

butters on 25-12-2012
Vigilance
wonderful. simply that.

particularly, the glass coffin

Author's Reply:
thanks butters!


The two headed man (posted on: 10-12-12)
surrealism/retitled

Last night I knew the date now I don't, I woke with the radio turned on and I was 55 according to the lyrics of the first song, then dead, then reborn. I stood before the mirror and when I put my clothes on I felt as if the old skin had gone. On leaving the flat, my new eyes saw the neighbors licking a white rug. The corridor of seductions was going to be long, outside the tenement the public road was worse. I only had to wish for wilderness, a desert, afraid of indulging or hating the world, and there I was. Something in my heart was still open to a little shock, a second head loomed from my neck's left side and had its own thoughts, a head whose only worry was to find a car and speed our way into the rest of the day, find a motel in which to spend the night, order a bottle of whiskey, and attempt to break the ice.
Archived comments for The two headed man
butters on 11-12-2012
55
right now, I really don't know quite what to make of this piece ๐Ÿ˜€

I find it intriguing and confusing in equal measure - and that's down to your wordplay deliberately placing the reader on uncertain footing and so - it would appear - capturing the essence of this. I still don't know what to make of it though! it feels like you're messing with my/any reader's head! ๐Ÿ˜ฎ

Author's Reply:
it's part of a trilogy so far,

A Life Full of Holes
Morals

you probably have to read the other two.

basically it's about abstract morality.


Her project (posted on: 03-12-12)
edited

The bigger couch, suitable for taking long siestas with Bou by my feet is covered with a synthetic blanket and an old woolen sheet on top. The second cover - indefinably beige- can't be better washed, yet it preserves the yellowish breath of its past. The halogen heater plays with its persisting tones as it rotates, 180 degrees churning decades, thread after thread after thread And when its colour is butter yellow, I can see the hands that weaved it, young and strong, knowing this particular tint surfacing, is a mixture of reflections of her red hair, the continual turn of her head to the left then back to the right as she firmly operated the loom, and I sense wool was not the only thing woven into. -- for my late grandmother Evanthia.
Archived comments for Her project
Slovitt on 03-12-2012
Her project
good visual next-to-last stanza. strong close. good poem.

Author's Reply:

peg on 03-12-2012
Her project
I can't quite put my finger on why, yet, but I loved this write. memories woven into a woolen sheet. Quite poignant...Maggie

Author's Reply:
Thanks peg!

japanesewind on 03-12-2012
Her project
really liked this, good vision and wording left an impression.......D

Author's Reply:
Thanks japanesewind!

Ionicus on 04-12-2012
Her project
Classy as always Nic.

Love, Luigi x

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much, Luigi, Love Nic x











Texasgreg on 04-12-2012
Her project
Aye! loving indeed...

Greg ๐Ÿ™‚

Photobucket.

Author's Reply:
thanks Gregorie, muchos internet problemos. sorry for the belated reply, cheers!

butters on 04-12-2012
Her project
from indefinably beige to butter yellow, moving back in time visually to the creation of the cloth, with the same talent for strong visuals as already shown in your other write.

you've woven colour, movement and a sense of loving peacefulness into this

Author's Reply:
thank you very much for your comment and rating butters!

jay12 on 04-12-2012
Her project
A nice poem, the last two lines make this poem what it is. Very good! ๐Ÿ™‚

Jay.

Author's Reply:
Hi Jay, thanks!
Nic

ValDohren on 04-12-2012
Her project
Woven with love no doubt, such love being captured in the weave. Charming write, full of nostalgia.

Val

Author's Reply:
Thank you for commenting and rating Val, cheers

Nic


Dad (posted on: 13-02-12)
.

Which weight Dad slipped from your shoulders onto mine, when standing in a corridor of a hospital decades ago and the staff transferred a body covered head to toe and I asked you "don't you think Dad this was a corpse?" and you replied "Yes, but we are here for other reasons, aren't we?"
Archived comments for Dad
Romany on 13-02-2012
Psi
Very enigmatic. I am not entirely sure I understood this, but if I were to hazard a guess, I would say it is about the two of you losing a loved one, you acknowledging and accepting it, your father unable to do so and so distracting himself with philosophy about life and its meaning instead? Perhaps, if this is anywhere near right, the subject had never really been fully explored years later, hence the need to write the poem?

Just my wandering thoughts.

Romany.

Author's Reply:
Hi Romany, not about us losing a loved one, we were just waiting for a doctor to examine my hand, Dad knew I saw the body, and that I worried a lot about my problem, so he tried to eliminate all possible connections related to hospitals (and my health) by acting cool and giving a simple answer. The weight is something I understood years later, mortality i.e. and now wrote about it. Thank you for commenting Romany

Andrea on 17-02-2012
Psi
I thought this was great. I read it a few times, then saw your explanation to Romany and the meaning was crystal clear at once of course. Very, very good, and kudos to dad ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:
thanks Andrea ๐Ÿ™‚


Omega (posted on: 06-02-12)
.

I go to bed out of respect for Morpheus who no longer waits for me And I sleep so that his feelings are not wounded if he reappears Let him think I finally forgot what his arms can do to a living creature or that I am just that
Archived comments for Omega
Ionicus on 06-02-2012
Omega
A clever little gem, Nic.

Luigi x

Author's Reply:
ty Luigi xx

Bradene on 06-02-2012
Omega
Lovely, is morpheus the God of Sleep or dreams I can never quite remember these days. Lovely work as usual Nic. Valx

Author's Reply:
dreams, ty Val xx

Andrea on 06-02-2012
Omega
I always thought Morpheus was female 'into the arms of sweet Morpheus' sounds feminine to me ๐Ÿ™‚ - God of dreams - live and learn, eh?

Beautiful little poem, Nic.

Author's Reply:
๐Ÿ˜‰ ty Andrea

moogster on 06-02-2012
Omega
Nice poem. Sweet dreams Andrea. Best wishes Pete.LOL .

Author's Reply:
ty Pete

Kat on 07-02-2012
Omega
Just beautiful, succinct poetry. Lovely.

Kat x

Author's Reply:
Hi Kat, ty for the comment. xx

e-griff on 07-02-2012
Omega
wee cracker, hen! ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:
:-))

ChairmanWow on 08-02-2012
Omega
Evocative work. Especially like the last line. Interesting that you seem to capitalize the first word of sentences but do not punctuate the ends of sentences.

Author's Reply:
thanks ChairmanWow. regarding punctuation it didn't look good at least to my eye.

stormwolf on 09-02-2012
Omega
One of your best Nic. Hold on in there
Alison xx

Author's Reply:
time to put the kettle on here in Athens - or something like that lol
xx

Rosco on 22-03-2012
Omega
Most succinct critique of Romanticism. The 19th century rears its back as a shadowy figure flicks a cigarette onto an immense inky trail between itself and a shadowy Classicism.

Author's Reply:
thanks dear Ross


The middle-aged woman (posted on: 26-12-11)
MC

During the day more and more a certain thought occurs to her: men, loved and unloved, even the married, usually die first. She thinks "this is a weird honour, but for whom?" Instinctively she wonders "Where's Paul?" Then she imagines his funeral and post mortem emotions run through her heart like wild horses galloping through virgin land.
Archived comments for The middle-aged woman
deed on 26-12-2011
The middle-aged woman
A really interesting poem. As we get older we begin to think of death and what it will be like. Also, for a couple, the realization that death will not usually come simultaneously for them and that the woman is usually last to die. I love the third verse - is it better to be first or last? A very good poem

Author's Reply:
thanks deed, very good comment.

ChairmanWow on 26-12-2011
The middle-aged woman
The galloping horses are a positive image to me. A well wrought poem that presents a truth i have suspected for a long time.

Author's Reply:
thanks!

Rosco on 27-12-2011
The middle-aged woman
'Paul' and 'virgin' still resonate for me, but then so do door and window as a result of an overly acute, symbolic sensitivity. I love romantic endings like this, or, this:
Altogether elsewhere, vast
Herds of reindeer move across
Miles and miles of golden moss,
Silently and very fast.

Now 'otherness' and the grieving widow form the back story of our times, female religious preoccupations finally fit the social climate with a bang, rather than a whimper.

Author's Reply:
yes you're right.

woodbine on 28-12-2011
The middle-aged woman
The ultimate dilemma of love written so succinctly and with such brio.
Best wishes,
John

Author's Reply:
thanks!

stormwolf on 30-12-2011
The middle-aged woman
Bloody fabulous!
I scrolled down to find it was already nominated for the anthology but this is poetry at its finest to me.
Alison x

Author's Reply:
:DD thank you dear Alison
X

teifii on 08-01-2012
The middle-aged woman
Very well expressed, so much in so few lines.

Author's Reply:
thanks Daff!

japanesewind on 29-05-2013
The middle-aged woman
loved this poem, class end....D

Author's Reply:
glad you liked it so much and thanks for letting me know


The Middle Man (posted on: 14-11-11)
second act, first here

- Move a little please, can't you see you have some space left? - Αnd go where? These two guys to my right and to my left, are hindering me. - In that case, why don't you take a step back? - I tried walking backwards, if that's what you mean, but they both did the same. - Αnd why don't you do something about it? - Do what? Complain? Poke them? - I don't know, but you will be very strange, stranger than them that accidentally stand next to you, to your left and to your right! Because they are just standing and their walking backwards could be a coincidence. - But how coincidental could it be that everytime I stepped backwards they did the same simultaneously? Can't you see their indifference? We talk about their abnormal behaviour and they don't react at all! - They could be deaf! (Eve turns her head and sniggers surreptitiously...) - Now this would be a coincidence indeed. (TANNOY) "Kindly make room for more passengers, because others are about to arrive" -Will you ask them once and for all? -Oh stop it lady! All this time I am this close to jumping on the tracks, or take two steps back and miss the last train. (TANNOY) "The new generation is coming up the escalators!" - You are the middle man; the other gentlemen are not to be blamed. - I stopped hearing you - You stopped, because I stopped being by your side. - And if I tell you that I love you, how will you know? - Now I am not hearing a word you say. - Maybe this is love. - Lack of understanding - Hearing and speaking - Absense Adam notices the toothbrush in her hand and suddenly says: -This is very funny. Maybe I am the ghost of someone who took their life, on the platform, standing between real people. In that case, are you perhaps a ghost too? - I am very glad I stopped hearing you, because I haven't the vaguest idea what you mean. Ghosts are not "funny" at all, and you are insulting me. What else? I loved you too once upon a time and even married you. - I hear everything you say - Now it is too late. - What must I do? - Next time you will be completely alone here, and you won't remember a thing. You cannot do anything about it, but I can go to our graves, visit our grandchildren, it's Christmas today. - Hold my hand! Adam says in agony. - If I do that, I'll come back, I cannot watch this twice. - Then you love me! Hold it damn it! - Farewell Adam! - Is that a no? - I don't know. (TANNOY) "Of those of you who insist on not falling onto the railway track, the new generation will inadvertently throw you! Make room, courageously, because a young person's life might depend on your resistance." (HARP PLAYING, EVE SINGING) They sit in seats designed for them with a strange smile. The train departs on cloud-track leaves on an empty platform where passengers are ghosts. Nobody hears its whistle, for better or for worse, The train departs on cloud-track, the sun melds with their love.
Archived comments for The Middle Man
Rosco on 27-12-2011
The Middle Man
I've been all over the place, getting to this. I can only really read the last eight lines, and they're well worth the trip through that surrealist clap trap to get to, like when you suddenly decide to put on French perfume in a narrow, Athenian apartment.

The Gnostics and Hermetics will always be divided.

Author's Reply:
the top moment of the first two acts is when Adam extends his arm to examine the toothbrush they found, act one. it's a hermetic surrealistic/dadaistic play yes.


Morals (posted on: 07-10-11)
surreal

So what is it with going to the sea To learn how to live life From the beginning? A few stars left, no moon The sun has decided to shine 28 hours per day. The pebbles, when I touch them I can dial numbers And the sea is so blue My eyes hurt. Diving my way out of misery Not knowing where it leads Or close my eyes, dial a random number, Not finish the call, but turn it off Let the end start another time, I've had my fair share of learning.
Archived comments for Morals
Nomenklatura on 07-10-2011
Morals
Hmm... Not sure if this is brilliant or terrible. I'm leaning towards the first. I've read it about 10 times (left the page open and returned, sorry). That sun deciding to shine 28 hours a day. Sometimes that's what it feels like in Southern Spain.

I'm not sure about the title, but aside from that I'm definitely plumping for the brilliant end of things.

Regards
Ewan

Author's Reply:
this poem is part two lets say of this one

http://www.abctales.com/story/artisus/life-full-holes-0

thanks Ewan.

Rosco on 27-12-2011
Morals
You're really on a roll these days. I didn't realize. Hermetic surrealism has found you or you found it like a snail and her shell.
Beautiful effects.

Author's Reply:
i think we are being found. we are rather stupid to find anything. we are still wondering "where are we?" and answers find us. no memory of where we were you see.


Twice (posted on: 29-07-11)
TWICE

I'm writing about a million cases Of people entering the wrong building Like fish swimming in the wrong direction Like cattle falling off a cliff Because sheepdogs were sleepy And the lakes dry And courtrooms just rooms. I'm not writing about the few cases, Which hide their patterns in empty honey jars, And hunt a bear because she cannot be killed Twice.
Archived comments for Twice
e-griff on 29-07-2011
Twice
I don't always understand your meaning, except at superficial level, but I do enjoy reading your words, which intrigue

Author's Reply:
sorry it is a difficult poem i know it, most of my poems are difficult. thanks, peace.

RachelLW on 29-07-2011
Twice
It is a bit difficult, but I quite like that about it - that it's not all laid out for me. It's as though it was tied to something particular and you cut the rope so that the comment hangs on it's own. I love it. I think lots of fish are swimming in the wrong direction, a very enchantingly written little poem. Rachel ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:
thanks Rachel, Nic xx

Rosco on 27-12-2011
Twice
Your camouflaged arguments for a route to understanding miracles will never end.

Author's Reply:


The Unbitten (posted on: 08-04-11)
an edited old poem

Three dogs escaped from a yard, Two blocks from home the wind Suddenly became stronger. Sensed the four-legged gang and ran. The chase - the fall - the panic. They halted, tails wagging, Their formation cordoned off An unsuspicious life. Picked up school-bag and broken umbrella, Almost trembling. The nights that follow such days Are nights of fever. Three injured toes healed slowly, Permanently destroyed toenails, One for each dog.
Archived comments for The Unbitten
lavadis on 13-11-2011
The Unbitten
I like the way this was written and the strength you had to leave it as short as you did

Author's Reply:
yes some major cuts here. thanks for commenting.


Poshlost (posted on: 13-12-10)
"self-satisfied inferiority"

A list of names upon his desk A grim account of what he does Certain that the dead can't rise And off he goes to find More creatures left behind Then dream or picture how they died Deceiving those who thought The dead had only been a burden With resurrected hope to tolerate The malarkey of bargains And haggle over the price of life Buried in death's gardens With those who tortured dignity Who mortgaged love and pride The Plyushkins the Sobakevichs Have dead souls of all kinds At every home in every land There'll always be a Chichikov Thriving on their pettiness Either officially not dead or Only legally alive
Archived comments for Poshlost
Rosco on 16-12-2010
Poshlost
Yeah, that seals it.

Author's Reply:
Ross!


Embers (posted on: 13-12-10)
strange one

Now that my draft has disappeared I am trying to write a few lines Of what used to be a poem in progress. All I can remember is That I was talking about a road Leading to a dried up lake, I was picking up stones I had tripped over, They were anxious to reach the lake, For some fantastic moments Rocketing through air, like my Silver-flash-bike, plopping, Waving goodbye to dryness, But the draft has disappeared So now we have a less unhappy end. I just remembered something else too. Better not.
Archived comments for Embers
e-griff on 14-12-2010
Embers
I presume that the lake in question is only nearly dried-up and not completely dried up?

Author's Reply:
Completely dried up, now the stones may become zen stones, and at least I found my bike, rusty in the bottom of the lake, not beyond repair. If only it wasn't too late of course, embers everywhere, country ruined. No Greece, no mojo.

littleditty on 14-12-2010
Embers
Greece will make a comeback too xx

Author's Reply:
when? in a 100 years when I'm dead and you are about to die? xx (I think i have a line for a poem here...)

littleditty on 15-12-2010
Embers
it all depends on when you can fix your bike ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:
the stolen bike (the stolen economy) we should find the thief who threw Silver Flash into the lake.

teifii on 17-12-2010
Embers
Well I'm glad you found the bike. But for that info I would still be convinced as when I was reading it that it was a dream.
Best wishes for speedy recovery to Greece and the bike.

Author's Reply:
thanks Daff!

sunken on 18-12-2010
Embers
Hello Ms. Nic. I think there's a lesson for us all here. Backup your files, backup your files and then backup your files. Of course, cloud computing is meant to be the future. I don't know that I would trust my files to a cloud tho. Don't they have a tendency to drift? I blame the wind. Strange indeed - But none the worse for that. NICe work.

s
u
n
k
e
n

the rain in spain usually ruins holidays

Author's Reply:
if my work was NICe then your comment was awesomeKEN.x

Rosco on 27-12-2011
Embers
The written act is closer to reality than the social one, and you insist on it as the final arbiter of meaning whatever our circumspection and conversational niceties suggest. The unwritten poem is right there, suggested, and coming gradually into view with the force of remembered completion.

Author's Reply:


Letting go (posted on: 03-12-10)
rhetoric

My inner battle has stopped Thoughts have nothing to do The ones that survived that is They want to return home Find their families, families Are needed by thoughts too But how do you make a soldier forget When home is not as good a home As an unknown grave?
Archived comments for Letting go
littleditty on 03-12-2010
Letting go
lot to this one nic - makes interesting war poem, liking the ideas of family and home - those thoughts needing family too is such a good line -as a war poem soldier, guilt and post traumatic stuff making going home physically/psychologically difficult/impossible -this poem got me thinking about PTSD, a favourite topic! Really good one xx

Author's Reply:
thank you for your comment Turtle.
xx


littleditty on 03-12-2010
Letting go
you're welcome hippy-san - peace *acustic guitar*

Author's Reply:
yepx

Bradene on 03-12-2010
Letting go
A thoughtful and topical poem, neatly said and written. Valx

Author's Reply:
Thank you very much Valx

Ionicus on 03-12-2010
Letting go
A deep and meaningful short poem, Nic.

Luigi x

Author's Reply:
Thanks Luigi
x

Leila on 04-12-2010
Letting go
Yes Nic a thoughtful and thought provoking poem...Leila

Author's Reply:
๐Ÿ™‚ ty

e-griff on 05-12-2010
Letting go
Oh!!! *turns round and observes history* did I not comment on this, miss?

no! how impolite.

nice wee pome, doll. ๐Ÿ™‚

*swaggers off swigging white lightning and humming 'Scotland the Brave' with kilt akimbo*

Author's Reply:
better late than never late. tyvm.

sunken on 12-12-2010
Letting go
If it pleases you, Nic, I would like to comment on this particular poem via the medium of dance. Please allow me some room. I shall be performing The Charleston, the Paso Doble and a freestyle Lindy hop with echoes of American Swing. It's tough, but I think I can pull it off. I do like pulling things off. Ahem. It's the least I can do for such a wonderful poem. Now, where's my leotard...

s
u
n
k
e
n



Author's Reply:
Thanks sunken, it pleases me if it pleases you ๐Ÿ™‚

Rosco on 27-12-2011
Letting go
A fine extended metaphor, but that last line is so painful. Oh, it hurts.

Author's Reply:
thanks!

Texasgreg on 10-05-2012
Letting go
Makes me wonder, stumble and fall for the sake of all. Since you wrote the poem, I'm sure you'll figure out what I said. I'm sorry one as young as you must think of such...

Greg ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:

Texasgreg on 10-05-2012
Letting go
But am thankful to you for it...

Author's Reply:
I am not young and even when I was a six year old child in the late 70's, parents and relatives used to call me "Granny Nicoletta". One thing is certain, God can and will astonish us with the truth one way or the other not only about letting or not letting go but also giving in to temptations or being solid as a rock. Unless of course "Saint Peter" is the only factor to give us christians the answer we deserve.

here is a poem of mine

So What?

Appearing --at last-- in front of God
Is not a problem, the length of the dialogue depends
On how many things you have to discuss.
Usually divided into two parts:
Things you shouldnโ€™t and
Things you should have done.

He simply asks, how about this? And what about that?
Such things, and He quite calm,
Is ready to listen to whatever you have to say.

It has become an anecdote however,
Some people's reaction - those that
Were not sure if God exists, but in case He does,
Would look at Him peevishly
And give only one answer: "So what?"

They repeat it until the list of things
Ends. Waiting for Godโ€™s wrath.

God utters the final words: "I forgive you my child",
And blesses them,
Flabbergasted they are led to Saint Peter
To send them where they belong.

Saint Peter is not God.
He checking their replies tells them
"You can go to hell"
And on protesting against his decision,
Mentioning that God forgave them,
He replies: "So what?"

thanks for commenting

Texasgreg on 10-05-2012
Letting go
LOL, was not expecting that ending and hope it remains in your imagination. Guess the black and white photo threw me off. Resembled a niece of mine...I stand corrected.

Author's Reply:
well I mean I am not THAT young anymore, lol.

royrodel on 11-05-2012
Letting go
Do you think God's just an errend boy to satisfy your wandering desires?
Well do ya?
Do you want peace?
Well do ya?
IT'S UP TO YOU, YEAH YOU.
It's all about family, one world, one family, nothing more nothing less
like me you can't forget
but then have you been offered babies flesh for a scrumptious meal at your local market

Author's Reply:
it's an esoteric poem, but even in peaceful times war exists, and in times of war you can have inner peace.
i cannot express myself well in English lately because i write in Greek - hopefully soon i will be able to return and give you a clearer idea of what i'm saying. thanks

Texasgreg on 13-05-2012
Letting go
Nic, your God and his designs are as personal to you as any inner thought imaginable. You are as unique and important to your God as I am to mine, (though I do not have a name for mine or evidence that God exists-Note that I do not place a masculine or feminine label upon such). I see value in what you write. If you reach one, that's more than none.

Greg ๐Ÿ™‚


Author's Reply:
have you read a book called the Shack?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Shack_%28novel%29

very good book, it IS about forgiveness and letting go, modern christians must read it, gives very strong answers. God in the book is masculine and feminine, but first she appears as feminine.

not that I agree with the entire book but it had a great and positive impact on me in a very difficult time. I highly recommend it to you, do buy it and read it whether you are a christian or not. cheers

Texasgreg on 13-05-2012
Letting go
Arg! I notice I did slip in a masculine reference. So difficult. I will read the book as it sounds interesting. Thank you for the suggestion. Follow you heart in all that you do and worry not about judgement from others.

Gregorius ๐Ÿ™‚

Author's Reply:


The Longcase clock (posted on: 08-11-10)
strike

-Look what I found behind the longcase clock... -Oh my goodness! A toothbrush! -We haven't moved the clock since we got here... -But how come we didn't see it... -How come nobody else saw it... -It is not ours that's for sure. -It probably belongs to the previous tenants. -It strikes me, three years it has been there and nobody' s seen it, although it is not that small to go unnoticed. -Many people cleaned the house before we lived here. -And so did we. -Behind the clock all this time... Adam picks up the toothbrush, extends his arm and examines it under the light. -What should we do with it? -Throw it away. He says to Eve. -Think about it for a moment. Three years behind father's clock and only now that the clock has stopped and we are going to have it repaired, we discover it. Adam as if speaking to himself says, -since it has gone unnoticed, for three years, behind the clock, we found it. -We have to respect it. The time that has passed was smiling at us. They were happy years. It was as if the toothbrush was taking care of the shiny smile of time... -But the clock broke. -The toothbrush got worn out, maybe time needs a new toothbrush. -Why the hell are we talking about the toothbrush, the shiny smile of time, whatever has got into us! -Lately things are not as good as they used to be between us... then the clock broke... and then we found this toothbrush. -This is the first time you tell me something is wrong... -I will put my toothbrush behind the clock when it is repaired. It will take care of the shiny smile of time... -And when the clock stops again? Will we replace it with another one? -Yes!! -And what are we going to do with this one? Are we going to throw it away? Nobody needs it anymore, not time, not us. -No!! Eve snatches the toothbrush from Adam's hands, clasps it in both of hers, closes her eyes as if she is praying and says: -I will place it on father's tombstone. -And the next toothbrush? Will you be littering father's tombstone with toothbrushes? Adam hugs her condescendingly. Eve starts to cry. They never put the toothbrush where she said she would, they never did any of the things they said they would do, and time for them stopped smiling.
Archived comments for The Longcase clock
Kazzmoss on 08-11-2010
The Longcase clock
Very nice, made me chuckle. Of all things a toothbrush!


Kazz

Author's Reply:
Thanks Kazz

expat on 08-11-2010
The Longcase clock
I'm not sure I understand this but I like your refreshing approach. I'll look out for future subs.
Steve

Author's Reply:
It's a philosophical and dadaistic play. There are a few more parts. I already posted The transmission. I hope I will be able to post The Middle Man soon. Thanks Steve.

littleditty on 09-11-2010
The Longcase clock
like this, and The Transmission very much - this one i'll come back to and ponder, presently wondering if gravity, not time, makes us older, and thinking i need to do many things i said i would, still...lol. Great read -more please!

Author's Reply:
The other one is ready and awaits sponsors.xx

e-griff on 10-11-2010
The Longcase clock
nice thoughts, if a little rambly along the way. I think it could benefit from shortening/tightening up a bit, even though it seems as if it was intended that the ideas flutter like a moth round a flame, until that moment when it suddenly homes in on it in that very good ending.

how do you hug condescendingly ? - a rather direct intrusion, je crois ๐Ÿ™‚

Baramundi! G

Author's Reply:
Rambly? Au contraire mon ami. ๐Ÿ™‚

pdemitchell on 11-11-2010
The Longcase clock
Not bay IYP! - a non-rambly rumbly skit with only a minor typo in the last paragraph 'were' s/be 'where'. Cheerz. Mitch

Author's Reply:
thanks!

e-griff on 11-11-2010
The Longcase clock
well, how about this from a 'half-genius' with caustic wit?

Look what I found behind the longcase clock...
-Oh my goodness! A toothbrush!
- How come we didn't see it?

Adam picks up the toothbrush, extends his arm and examines it under the light.
-What should we do with it?
-Throw it away.
-Think about it for a moment. Three years behind father's clock and only now the clock has stopped we discover it.

Adam, as if speaking to himself, says,
-Since it has gone unnoticed,
for three years, behind the clock, we have to respect it.
The time that has passed was smiling at us.
Happy years! As if the toothbrush was taking care of
the shiny smile of time...
But the clock broke.
The toothbrush looks worn out, maybe time needs a new toothbrush?

-Why the hell are we talking about the toothbrush, the shiny smile of time?

Lately things between us are not as good as they were... then the clock broke... and then we found the toothbrush.
-This is the first time you tell me something is wrong...
-I will put my toothbrush behind the clock when it is repaired. It will take care of the shiny smile of time...
-And when the clock stops again? Will we replace it with another one?
-Yes.
-And what are we going to do with this one? Are we going to throw it away? Nobody needs it: not time, not us.
-No!

Eve snatches the toothbrush from Adam's hands, clasps it in hers, closes her eyes as if she is praying and says:
-I will place it on Father's tombstone.
-And the next toothbrush? Will you be littering father's tombstone with toothbrushes?
Adam hugs her.

Eve starts to cry. They never put the toothbrush where she said she would, they never did any of the things they said they would do, and time, for them, stopped smiling.

maybe I turned a butterfly into a moth? Did I?

Author's Reply:
I think you condescendingly changed the story a great deal. Why don't you extend your arm and reexamine the toothbrush? ๐Ÿ™‚



ps: meanwhile, you have no idea how difficult it is to start writing again when your country is about to collapse financially, your husband about to lose his job, and having a new obsession called Zynga Poker on Facebook.

pps: for the reasons above it is extremely urgent to start writing again, and for the same reasons future work will be more mature, and enlightened.




*the tables are calling me....*

and as we Zynga Poker fans say: tyvm hunni, at last a nice hand.

e-griff on 12-11-2010
The Longcase clock
aah, but it's not my story, is it? I was trying to see if I understood it all - obviously I don't .. as might be expected. :--)

more power to your pen, and hope your poker is 'flushed' with success.

Author's Reply:

sunken on 13-11-2010
The Longcase clock
Hello Ms. Nic. Good to see you back at the planet known as Uka. Did you know that the average person is about a quarter of an inch taller during the night? It's just too freaky. I may start sleeping with the lights on. This hasn't helped at all has it? I enjoyed your poetic ramble. Well done on the nib. Commiserations on the smelly Beagle.

s
u
n
k
e
n



Author's Reply:
Bernard always helps, it is unradiated and super-advanced critique!! Thanks.


The transmission (posted on: 15-10-10)
sponsored, too.

-Let me find employment somewhere!! - Sir, what are you doing in the square under the rainy sky without an umbrella, saying such a thing? - Come here my child, they don't let me find employment anywhere!! -Sir, you have accustomed us to other things. We really enjoyed what you had to say around eleven o' clock, when we go for our cheesepies. -Don't you enjoy my words now? -Certainly not! - I am sorry my child, I can't offer you anything better anymore. Isn't it obvious why? They don't let me find employment anywhere!! - Gentlemen, come. -And the transmission, what will happen to it? -The transmission? Lock him up somewhere! He is mad!! -But what will happen to the transmission? -What are you saying to me sir? Gentlemen! Sir, stop tugging my sleeve! Gentlemen!!! Sir, will you stop it! -I understand, you'd rather hear the old transmission, ''The end is nigh'', but unfortunately that transmission is over. - Why is that sir? It was a transmission, as you call it, that we all enjoyed around eleven o'clock when my colleagues and I returned to the office with cheesepies for the clerical assistants. -The end my dear child has arrived in the form of there being no end … -You are despicable to say such a thing! You are a criminal! - You, he, and I, have the same rights, in the form of cheesepies… - Please sir (in hushed tones) start transmitting again what we enjoyed hearing, pretend that the end has not arrived in the form of there being no end, and… - And??? - We will share with you (a conspiratory whisper) ........the cheesepies...
Archived comments for The transmission
expat on 08-11-2010
The transmission
The writing reminds me of someone else on UKA but I can't place who. Offbeat, for sure, and not without appeal.
You might consider more punctuation to go with your cheese pies.
Steve
:^-)

Author's Reply:
Well I am Nicoletta, artisus. Thanks again.

Nic


Also (posted on: 08-10-10)
sponsored

There are ways of the innocent Trees in the night Stones in the wilderness Memories on the written paper Through these ways I am a worshipper Of language The skill to manipulate words Make them mean Something different If I say that in a poem That has changed Me also
Archived comments for Also
Ionicus on 08-10-2010
Also
'I am a worshipper
Of language
The skill to manipulate words'
You certainly have the skill to manipulate words as you so often have shown us, Nic.
Deep poem, lovely closing lines.

Luigi x

Author's Reply:
hi, Nicky liked this note on facebook so i decided to post it. hmm

thank you Luigi x

Michel on 08-10-2010
Also
I think this has beautiful sound, strong images, striking ideas.

Author's Reply:
Tyvm Michel ๐Ÿ™‚

e-griff on 10-10-2010
Also
Excellent stuff. Appreciated ... JohnG

Author's Reply:
Thanks John

stormwolf on 10-10-2010
Also
hugely meaningful, as only one with poetic vision can comprehend ...
Alison x

Author's Reply:
๐Ÿ™‚ tyvm Alison x

Rosco on 27-12-2011
Also
Wow! That's powerful. When you endorse art, I love it.

Author's Reply:
gee thanks! (lol)


Evening poem (posted on: 17-09-10)
written for a weekly challenge

Time is hiding in my dreams uncut diamonds filled with rays capsules full of virgin forests lakes of joy and streams of knowledge Time is playing with two nymphs free and dauntless, without needs, chased around like little kids giggling on god's doorstep When I sleep I find some solace when I wake I am his nightmare I don't hide and I don't play I don't know much I'm afraid At his mercy all my life death has made the deal so fine in accordance with my moments time is finite, fate and all that Almost zen for almost no-one.
Archived comments for Evening poem
stormwolf on 19-09-2010
Evening poem
Hello there ๐Ÿ˜‰
I always enjoy when someone personalizes a concept. You have pulled it off well here.
I can also relate to these lines

When I sleep I find some solace
when I wake I am his nightmare

nice reading you. Alison x

Author's Reply:
Thanks Alison, hope you are fine ๐Ÿ™‚
Nic x

Rosco on 27-12-2011
Evening poem
Is there an external world?

Author's Reply:
hi there Ross, just saw this comment of yours, weird.

i once wrote, "And then the Soul replied: Not even fatefulness follows the steps of destiny as automatically as I do"

external internal

the world is twilighteral. (lexiplasia)

ps: where on earth are you and how is Dominique? i'm still on the Titanic.. with the orchestra.