Event Horizon
- Raven (ARGD)
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Poetry isn’t healing; it’s invasive.
It jabs at the great black block that thuds into my thoughts
Like a gavel, that same percussion.
It sends ripples through that hazy mass,
The crafted volcanic glass-made tower,
Monolithic in my mind.
Obsidian memory shimmers,
Then shudders into smoking reflections
Of all the things I pretend have disappeared
Through the black hole inside me.
Anything tangible, tools I could use
To build some physical manifestation-
I watch them cross over too, so tantalizingly slow.
I want to follow, I do…, just fall into that pull….
I tell myself that reaching for those things in the distance
Is worth the heat, worth being crushed and disklike,
Worth the probing quasi-stellar light touching my skin,
And yet I cower from the taste of it, the heat upon my tongue.
I waver, an image distorted, passing through radiation
Like a moon through clouds. I can’t help feeling as if
A glimpse of what I hide in that ubiquitous dark
Could be enough to send me into madness.
I feel like ice floating through space, orbiting
In my indecision. Everything I know has passed
Into darkness, and I don’t know what I am
Separated from all those little pieces,
Molecules lost from my composition.
In the heavy silence of the cosmos, I hear unspoken words.
They tell me to be something else, something new,
Anything on this side of the universe.
They tell me that words are unimportant.
Poetry isn’t survival. It used to be…, didn’t it?
I hear this soundless voice, hear it saying things like “meaningless”
And “nothing is matter anymore,” but there’s something else
Slyly weaving itself into the air, and I hear that too and understand;
I’m afraid of poetry these days,
Like a child afraid of the dark.
I hear and I see, and sure, I understand.
I just can’t find the answers anymore,
And I fear I can’t become whole,
Not on either side of the horizon.
It jabs at the great black block that thuds into my thoughts
Like a gavel, that same percussion.
It sends ripples through that hazy mass,
The crafted volcanic glass-made tower,
Monolithic in my mind.
Obsidian memory shimmers,
Then shudders into smoking reflections
Of all the things I pretend have disappeared
Through the black hole inside me.
Anything tangible, tools I could use
To build some physical manifestation-
I watch them cross over too, so tantalizingly slow.
I want to follow, I do…, just fall into that pull….
I tell myself that reaching for those things in the distance
Is worth the heat, worth being crushed and disklike,
Worth the probing quasi-stellar light touching my skin,
And yet I cower from the taste of it, the heat upon my tongue.
I waver, an image distorted, passing through radiation
Like a moon through clouds. I can’t help feeling as if
A glimpse of what I hide in that ubiquitous dark
Could be enough to send me into madness.
I feel like ice floating through space, orbiting
In my indecision. Everything I know has passed
Into darkness, and I don’t know what I am
Separated from all those little pieces,
Molecules lost from my composition.
In the heavy silence of the cosmos, I hear unspoken words.
They tell me to be something else, something new,
Anything on this side of the universe.
They tell me that words are unimportant.
Poetry isn’t survival. It used to be…, didn’t it?
I hear this soundless voice, hear it saying things like “meaningless”
And “nothing is matter anymore,” but there’s something else
Slyly weaving itself into the air, and I hear that too and understand;
I’m afraid of poetry these days,
Like a child afraid of the dark.
I hear and I see, and sure, I understand.
I just can’t find the answers anymore,
And I fear I can’t become whole,
Not on either side of the horizon.
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Re: Event Horizon
Answers do not come from poetry. They come from your pouring out your thoughts, in hope that your words will awaken something deep within that will spark your whole existence into action.
Formerly known as DJK, and once fleetingly known as Win-der-mere.
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Re: Event Horizon
I really like this. The entire premise of it -- the writer reflecting on what her art really is and if it really is at all and what it all means -- resonates with me deeply. There's something about poetry that is very intimate and personal to the writer, and I like the word you used at the beginning of the poem: invasive. I've heard many people talk about how their poetry helps them work through their own emotions, but I like that this is actually the other way around. The emotions are working through the speaker in a way that is painful. I think when someone is truly a writer, the writing has to happen, even if you don't "want" it. Even if it hurts, you can't keep it from coming out, and this entire piece was a reflection of that to me.
I also love the imagery in this poem, particularly at the beginning when the "poem" is digging through the speaker. It is as if the poem is an archeologist digging up old bones. I love the line "Of all the things I pretend have disappeared." It's as if the speaker buried all these things -- they're the speaker's bones.
The stanza that follows is interesting too because the speaker is not the one trying to build. Maybe the speaker is trying to build a poem, trying to create anything that actually looks like 'something." When you're consumed with the need to write but also dealing with pain, that's sometimes how it feels, and you want to believe that when you're finished it's going to be worth all the pain it took to create it. The images in that stanza are really cool, especially your use of light. The speaker is shedding light on all of these painful emotions and events by writing about them, but that light hurts as well. I like your use of "probing" there. It goes back to "invasive" in the first stanza. Great consistency there.
The entire poem was introspective and strong, and incredibly relatable. Keep writing. I think it's worth it.
Bay
I also love the imagery in this poem, particularly at the beginning when the "poem" is digging through the speaker. It is as if the poem is an archeologist digging up old bones. I love the line "Of all the things I pretend have disappeared." It's as if the speaker buried all these things -- they're the speaker's bones.
The stanza that follows is interesting too because the speaker is not the one trying to build. Maybe the speaker is trying to build a poem, trying to create anything that actually looks like 'something." When you're consumed with the need to write but also dealing with pain, that's sometimes how it feels, and you want to believe that when you're finished it's going to be worth all the pain it took to create it. The images in that stanza are really cool, especially your use of light. The speaker is shedding light on all of these painful emotions and events by writing about them, but that light hurts as well. I like your use of "probing" there. It goes back to "invasive" in the first stanza. Great consistency there.
The entire poem was introspective and strong, and incredibly relatable. Keep writing. I think it's worth it.
Bay
3 replies for every poem you post! You get what you give!
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Re: Event Horizon
Emotions can be hard, but to the poet, poetry is the only way we know how to express them. So it can be a hard truth.
I really can't say it better than the two fine people above me.
Respectfully,
Rootz
I really can't say it better than the two fine people above me.
Respectfully,
Rootz
Respectfully,
Michael "rootbeer" Lowe
Want to listen to my poetry? Then Click the link below.
viewtopic.php?f=37&t=33238
Michael "rootbeer" Lowe
Want to listen to my poetry? Then Click the link below.
viewtopic.php?f=37&t=33238
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Re: Event Horizon
Ah, that opening line, it's perfect and so, so quotable. It really hits home with me right now, in fact I think it's helped me to understand why I've been struggling to write lately. But that's another story for another time, back to your poem!
Maybe it's just the poems of yours I happen to read, but you write of chaos so well! It's not to say your style is chaotic, far from it, often you include things so precise and measured that it's worthy of much praise, but when you let rip you are able to convey something so layered with the imagery and metaphor of chaos that it translates well to the reader. In this case, even the more static moments and references are filled with a sense of loss, as though the tools needed by the speaker are agonisingly just out of reach. Weaving in a fair amount of science-y elements works, because it emphasises the smaller details, right down the molecules, yet the general setting of the cosmos adds to the feeling of searching for a needle in a haystack. When that is related back to poetry it really strikes a chord with me, especially how I've been feeling lately. Super OM from one of the best exponents of it on the site!
Maybe it's just the poems of yours I happen to read, but you write of chaos so well! It's not to say your style is chaotic, far from it, often you include things so precise and measured that it's worthy of much praise, but when you let rip you are able to convey something so layered with the imagery and metaphor of chaos that it translates well to the reader. In this case, even the more static moments and references are filled with a sense of loss, as though the tools needed by the speaker are agonisingly just out of reach. Weaving in a fair amount of science-y elements works, because it emphasises the smaller details, right down the molecules, yet the general setting of the cosmos adds to the feeling of searching for a needle in a haystack. When that is related back to poetry it really strikes a chord with me, especially how I've been feeling lately. Super OM from one of the best exponents of it on the site!
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Re: Event Horizon
Wishing I could be as specific as the previous commentees, I will only say that it is more painful to sit on feelings rather than share them,which you have done so well in this piece. Thank you for sharing this,
dornicks
dornicks
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Re: Event Horizon
Deep work my friend, the opening draws you in, as mentioned from the above comments, the reader can relate to what the speaker writes, I'm afaid of poetry these days, line for me, as sometimes I am afriad of my poetry from what forms from mind to screen, though I guess like RB says emotions are hard as poets it away we express them, thanks for sharing, Agreed super O/M from one of the best.
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Re: Event Horizon
Wondering now what they might call the fear of writing poetry, I'm sure there is a word for it. Then again how about the fear of NOT writing poetry (writer's block doesn't count). I was looking for what you wrote last night but this will have to do - and it does quite nicely thankyou Raven. Some memorable lines and unique imagery on the maddening art we cherish, cheers!
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Re: Event Horizon
Dayum!!!! I don't even know what to say to piece other than I'm at a loss of words... In a good way! Thank you for sharing
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Re: Event Horizon
Very honest write here. I feel sorry for the writer as I have just fallen in love with poetry and words again. Ebb n flow. Ee learn we grow through self amplyfying feedback loops only to break the cycle. Great work!
- Ladywildalice
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Re: Event Horizon
Since time immortal, man (generic meaning) has struggled to make sense of the emotions that drive him. Painting, sculpting, music, dance, writing..............it is all a way of dissecting, scrutinizing, and deciphering the things that drive us to action or inaction as it applies. It is the manner in which we celebrate and bury. It is the bedtime story that lulls, and the horror tale that makes us thankful for what we have compared to what could be. And it is the way to connect to other human hearts, so we are assured we are not alone in this madness. Your writing is excellent and is so enjoyable. This is indeed a well deserving piece for the Spotlight. Congratulations.
'Where ecstasy leaves gravity and dances with wild eyes' by Ladywildalice
- tangerinepie
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Re: Event Horizon
This is one of those poems that made me realize how universal man's quest for understanding and acceptance is.When we are at a low ebb, and reasoning seems futile, we must dig even deeper into our reserves to find solace.I adored everything about this inspiring poem, how it pushed beyond ordinary boundaries to capture a mood..Exalt..Congrats..Tangie..
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Re: Event Horizon
Wow! First of course congratulations on the spotlight... talk about much deserved! I am so very impressed by the way you had me hanging on every word... only the most skilled of poets can do that in a longer piece. I savored each line, a very grand poem!
-LMB
xoxo
-LMB
xoxo
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Re: Event Horizon
I enjoyed the read and particularly liked the last paragraph. Well thought and persevered with. Thank you for sharing and congratulations on the Spotlight.
dornicks
dornicks