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![Profile picture of RomaJ]()
RomaJ wrote a new post
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Read MoreA Poet’s soft gazewaits in my doorway,an empty bowl in his hands,carved from moonlight.I search my room,my ribcage,the hollows of my lifefor something that can fill it.The heartwood exhales,splitting with a quiet sigh.Its resin beads like tears,its scent rises...
15 Comments-
![Profile picture of RomaJ]()
Adagio, Thank you so much! I love that image too – rain on a hot tin roof has such a haunting, nostalgic sound to it. I’m glad it resonated with you!
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![Profile picture of Ghosteen]()
And so, there I was, waking sleepily into the weekend, burning croissants and telling my drug neighbour to turn her music down. And I merely flicked and kicked the internet, turning dark cyber skies to sky blue. Posted a tatty scribble which had straddled my night, and…and…in my apathetic Saturday encountered these words of such beauty & depth. Your partner is such a lucky person to wake next to such an alphabet. May every Sunday of your life be sensual and filled with flower blooms. Poetess, this Welshman salutes you!
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![Profile picture of RomaJ]()
Ghosteen, what a beautiful message to wake to – thank you! I’m smiling at the image of burnt croissants and dark cyber skies turning blue. And that “tatty scribble that straddled your night” – I adore that! Your words feel like a benediction, a blessing I’ll gladly carry into my Sunday. May your Sundays, too, be strung with music, warmth, and a touch of magic. Salute returned from across the sea, my dear poet!
– RomaJ-
![Profile picture of Ghosteen]()
Measured my life in song. I’m a disciple of Morrissey and Nick Cave. This is truly an astounding poem and I know a little about these things. If I could take a poem into my bed, it would be this
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![Profile picture of RomaJ]()
Ghosteen, Thank you so much! I’m especially touched by the beautiful image of the poem being one you’d take into your bed – that’s the highest compliment to its intimacy and atmosphere. I really appreciate your generous words.
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![Profile picture of Ghosteen]()
It’s really strange being called Ghosteen. Just always call me Rob. You have opened my cynical heart and just let poetic rivers flow and flow. So thank you Roma
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![Profile picture of RomaJ]()
Rob! Thank you. You have a beautiful, cynical heart. Keep those poetic rivers flowing.
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![Profile picture of Duhsjaak]()
Hoi hoi Chère R.,
Hope this finds you well?!There’s, I believe, urgent sensual longing and the gentle, floating kind.
And now that I typed this, I believe I read somewhere (your intro?) that you try to re-envision your dreams?If this is your intention, I honestly believe that you’ve made a stellar performance with this one.
I’ll be back tomorrow to read it all over again. For another eye full of beauty.
I’m eager to read more of your writes!
Have a beautiful weekend!
Kind regards, Gus-
![Profile picture of RomaJ]()
Hello Gus,
Thank you so much! Yes, you’ve guessed it -this poem is my attempt to re-envision a powerful dream I had, so I’m delighted to hear the translation worked for you.
I especially appreciate you noting that distinction between types of longing; it’s a beautiful way to interpret the poem’s atmosphere. I’m honored you’ll be back for a second read!
Wishing you a beautiful weekend!
Kind regards,
Roma
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![Profile picture of Damian DeadLove]()
Beautifully penned, Roma. Into the book it belongs! Love the imagery and wordplay my friend. This write has depth and layers, excellent work. Appreciate you.
Damian
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![Profile picture of RomaJ]()
I really appreciate you taking the time to read this. Hearing that the imagery and layers/depth came through is exactly what I hoped for -thank you for that excellent feedback. I appreciate you, friend!
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![Profile picture of Styxian]()
This is very good. The “biology” of the pic you chose to head this is also noted… I do not know if you’re male or female, but the imagery of a “peaceful” man entering the haven of the tree’s sacred spot, surrounded by random um, orbs (not!) leads the reader towards the explanation within the poem. Thus the poem is gentle but definite.
Your writing ability is top notch. The result is a very well done poem. You’ve a great talent at writing.-
![Profile picture of RomaJ]()
Styxian, hello.
Thank you very much for this perceptive comment.
I especially appreciate you noting the poem’s “gentle but definite” quality – that was exactly the intention.
To clarify the image for this poem is a representation of The Heartwood, of a tree. The heartwood is the dense, central core of the tree. The oldest, strongest part that provides its structural strength and holds its entire history.In the poem, it refers to something deep within the self: the sacred, structural core of one’s life, holding fundamental strength and preserved history. The “splitting” is the painful, necessary act of sacrificing these core resources for love.
And for the record, I am a woman. Thank you again for your generous reading!
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![Profile picture of Thomas W. Case]()
Tremendous work. Powerful.
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FlatDaddy wrote a new post
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Read More© 1990Ode to Blue-Haired LadiesBy FlatDaddy They drive battleships down Mopacat eighty miles per hour,Peeping through the window of the wheel,Hands at ten and two above their heads. Next to them,I see blue birds' nests and noses,spectacles perched atop their beatific...
4 Comments-
![Profile picture of Jacob erin-cilberto]()
I saw two Blue haired ladies today. There is something about them that exudes strength…
I like your stanza about the cars they drive. “The first church of Buick”—
this is innovative in its metaphor and analogies.
j. -
![Profile picture of FlatDaddy]()
Thank you so much, Jacob. I truly do appreciate your opinions.
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![Profile picture of Crimsin]()
hello dearest Daddy I’ve known these ladies they say is Jesus is their copilot and I believe them they somehow always get home safe great write ❤️
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![Profile picture of FlatDaddy]()
Thank you so much, Crimsin. Yes, they always manage, don’t they? One day, they might all meet on the same road and we’ll have a pileup of angelic proportions, hubcaps and plastic virgins flying everywhere!
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![Profile picture of Jacob erin-cilberto]()
I had one job for which I had to wear a suit. I had that job for five days and got fired.
Now, I wear t=shirts and shorts and teach English in comfortable garb. The students are comfortable with me and the President of the college is just fine with it.
It is how we do our job that counts…appearances are just surface perceptions.
I like green too, but will take less of it to be comfortable.
I just got a fortune two days ago in my fortune cookie. It said “you will soon get a promotion at your job”—
pretty funny since I am still teaching but am retired.
I guess the promotion might be to my next life?
sorry…this poem got me going.
j.-
![Profile picture of FlatDaddy]()
Well, don’t believe that cookie; it’s just a crumby memory now, some half-baked idea that couldn’t take the heat.
Okay, I’ll stop now; besides, I haven’t been awake long enough to think of more witticisms. That’s just how it crumbles. Ooo, ouch. okay, bye.
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The haunting memories of rain falling on a hot tin roof at twilight is a thought to explore. Fantastic!