Aww, this is sweet and sad

When you care about someone seeing them hurt or sad isn’t easy.
Sometimes I think we hide it from one another to spare each other. But how else do you know if it’s real.
Time has a way of giving tests. Life has a way of making us study. Eventually we get it right.

Wow this has such a push and pull to it. You want her to go, yet you can’t seem to let her go.

Ugh…talk about a push-pull. I swear sometimes the right word is insidious. They sneak in, slash, run and then slowly insinuate themselves back in…daggers behind their back. Felt this one

You described sight and smell so vividly.

Captivatingly enthralled am I, Dear Dragonfly ⛩

“What,” I ask, “could be a more elegant or appropriate greeting for a poem of “Autumnal Japan” than this ethereally gorgeous, cloud-crowned, enchanting image of Mount Fujiyama, framed by Fall’s gold ‘n auburn leaves, resting peacefully beyond its rolling foothills, blessed by land’s colourful and water’s silvery embracing glory?”

Still, the picture, stunning as it is, serves only to dress the sheer essence of your own poetic brilliance, rendered so soul-touchingly, brilliantly laid metaphorical magick, and emotionally stimulating imagery, with nary an excessive, misplaced, or ambiguously flawed moment.

“While I—pilgrim of hushed light—
stand within permanent transience,
where autumn burns not to end,
but to illuminate surrender.” And, to your effulgent art, do I.

You’ve touched my heart, stunned my senses, and made of me a warmly envious fan.
Arigatō, Nanbāwan No Shijin (Thank you, Dear Lady-Poet)! ⁓ Richard🥋

Beautifully penned, S. Stunning imagery my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

It may be a short putt but it’s a giant leap for 21st century poetry sir .. good on ya n all that bloomin jazz .. Neville

Brilliantly penned, Thomas. Cooking is art, math, & science all rolled in one. Most of all it’s relaxing in my experience. Excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

I’ve never been good at math. Though I like cooking. Nice poem Thomas. 🙂

I used to think that if I “fucked until I couldn’t walk”, I would never get old. Funny the nonsense I believed when I was young. She left and I got old!!! But, I did learn that sanity is overrated. I threw out my Wadsworth and took up with e.e. cummings, Pablo Neruda and went on “The Road” with the beats.

In reading your poem, Thomas, I am once again reminded how much I love to cook, smell puppies, and skip along the road to joust with windmills!!! Dulcinea del Toboso, I am coming!!! And “To Dream the Impossible Dream”.

-Curt

Oh lordy…I hate math and I struggle with recipes. Maybe the one is causation of the other? I do best when I just randomly toss things in the stew pot. Maybe some of us aren’t meant to be scripted? I love how music wove through this one. Brilliantly executed!

Thank you so much.

Insomnia cinema… paper mouths kissing… such poetic gold here… well penned

It’s so haunting and beautiful. An exploration of longing and absence, capturing a ghostly presence observing a loved one’s dreams and life continue while he remains unseen, blending surreal imagery with intimacy and loss.