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    S. Libellule wrote a new post

    Inkblade

    Upon an endless paper plain,the sword leans—half blade, half quill.Black ink falls like dark tears,gravity grieves in its remembrance. Each drop forms a kanji—unwritten yet complete;the keen edge hums calligraphic,penned silence within this violence. Strike and poem share one stroke—both wound...

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    • Fantastic. Oh! I love the blade.

    • Powerfully penned, S. Incredible write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

    • 孤独なトンボ Kodokuna tonbo ≽༏≼
      (Lonely Dragonfly)

      The mind is touched, sad emotions softly whispered unto, your diction, Dear Poetess, lends a tale of long ago … yet, ever-present in the Samurai heart’s core ‘n eternal soul ~ his katana.
      And, ohhh, you’ve sang it’s poignant timbre as a true Onna-Bugeisha, who always spoke her power equally by virtue of ebony kanji or blooded tanto.

      The rhythm ‘n flow of your Free Verse Quatrains dance above the page, as though transporting us into those feudal moments of yore … the magick hallmark of a master poetess’ pen.

      I strived to highlight a word, a line, a verse for you … alas, all conspired to create the whole of exact poetical symmetry – your artwork choice in sheer perfection.

      I gratefully bow 🥋 … thank you, Dear S. Libellule ⁓ Richard ⛩️

    • The soul of a samurai rendered into a pome of compelling wonder. You have the spirit of Japan written with the Zen of a poet who can translate a culture and a place and its people into poetry that resounds like koto music in the night.

      John

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    S. Libellule wrote a new post

    Glacier Blue and Petaled Pink

    Glacier Blue and Petaled Pink A Tetralogy of Transpacific Reflection I. Rockied Reverie Mountains breathe in cold syllables—each ridge a hymnal of ascent.Pines groom the sky with dark fingers,their needles provoke an ancient hush. Rivers rehearse such silver recitations,tongues of melt translate stone.Light...

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    • I must say, I really like the new style you are writing in. This is so peaceful and reflective

    • Beautifully penned, S. Crisp imagery and an excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

    • Libellule, this is hands down the best travel poem I have ever read. You do much more than illustrate you dig deep into the emotional journey in a way that is sheer awe inspiring to read. Many can take the journey but few that paint both the scenes and emotions in such a deeply passionate and grand way. I am enthralled by the way your lyrical poetics spill across the screen as I read. Truly a masterpiece of travelers poetry.

      John

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    Bound Silence

    Bound Silence Silk breath meets shadow’s thread,knots bloom like quiet blossoms—each loop a question of surrender,each crossing, an unseen trust. The body becomes a line drawn in air,a calligraphy of stillness;every curve remembers wind,every bind teaches patience. In tension, there is music...

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    • Once I got passed the delicious picture I found something even better….your words.
      Terrific 👍

    • We read this offline and don’t know why but but we thought of Casketsharpe, not really your norm. We thought erotic at first but changed our mind preference/acceptance, tight

    • Passionately penned, S. Amazing write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

    • You are a true poet in every sense of the word. This is so well written I felt it deep my soul. This is the perfect sensual poem that goes deep into the emotion the woman with tender and powerful depth of passion. No one does this better than you.

      John

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    Unrung Bell

    I. Forged SilenceIn a furnace of patience,bronze becomes melted memory—ore drawn from dark veins,forged in the gorge of impermanence.Each hammerbeat molds intention;flame licks the cusp of silence.Metal softens toward surrender,its glow rehearsing stillness.Hands withdraw from the heat,letting the fire...

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    S. Libellule wrote a new post

    In No Michi (The Way of Ink)

    I. Genesis of Ink (墨の創世)  In the lull before meaning, I waited—paper pallid as forgotten horizon.No words dared their first footfall,no quill still believed in its spill. Silence rehearsed its own exhalation,a specter of half-formed thought.Ink, my pilgrim of persistence,stirred beneath...

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    • Brilliantly penned, S. The life of a writer and her adventures, excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.

      Damian

    • Libellule, this poem spoke to me to the depth of a quiet when the poem discovers itself as you write. The truly felt like a spiritual exploration of the words born out of silence. There is so much here that took me into the quiet to experience in a brief time how the muse awakened to a quiet space that felt like a butterfly to me hovering and feeling the resonance the Japanese poetry Basho felt in his famous haiku. But your poem took me even deeper into that soundless resonance that only a poet of your spirit that take the reader into.

      John

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