In the dead sweat of a summer night I live on the verge of things before they find a beginning as if I were already waiting for their time to stumble into me. Oil flows on water. Paint flows on canvas. Ink flows on paper. Where do you flow? What if I pursued you into the night? What if I could translate fear into a thing of dust and ground glass? What if I clawed away your mask to reveal an acid-breathed skin-shriveler, crippled with darkness, for whom terror is only a crutch, fear the only truth? How would you reward me? Touch me and feel the flow.
Exposed yellow flow-ers petals are to be picked and placed on a mat to shine fearsome growls in the dead of night that flow out of lions teeth and the fear goes away sharply stained by bites that chew through the skin taunt tightly together a sinew in time, a knot in rhyme to flow into laces ties that bind faces ripped together again.
Thank you for your comments, Thomas. I suppose a poem is ‘done’ if I never feel the need to go back and rewrite or tweak it into something it never was. I like the idea of once and done so a revisit will generally result in a new poem. I don’t object to criticism so long as it’s meaningful in some way. I don’t think I have ever gone back and rewritten something because of reader comments but I do try to keep valid points in mind when I write new pieces.
.. yes - there’s legend of such haha.. but it’s ’Paul’s Privilege haha - to ‘spill.. & aside from the pleasure of his work - a delight for a mischievous pirate to give a poke to ! Note how adroitly he still evades the central question ! 🦎🏴☠️🇨🇦
You know... I think suspension bridges are beautiful. I can't tell you why. I could make up a story as to why, but... It won't be able to tell you. And you might find a mountain beautiful, or lush green beautiful, or a hot dog stand beautiful. Whatever Paul's words are here, they touched some unconscious part of my record of living that sparked emotion. I use the word beautiful because there's no other word to use to convey that reality.
Paul, the beauty of reading your poetry is that I have to read it aloud several times, emphasizing different points every time. "What if I clawed away your mask to reveal an acid-breathed skin-shriveler, crippled with darkness, for whom terror is only a crutch, fear the only truth?" This line, this right here, gets me every time. Thanks again for sharing your gift, Paul.
Exposed yellow flow-ers petals are to be picked and placed on a mat to shine fearsome growls in the dead of night that flow out of lions teeth and the fear goes away sharply stained by bites that chew through the skin taunt tightly together a sinew in time, a knot in rhyme to flow into laces ties that bind faces ripped together again.
Thank you, Richard
😁😁👏
The movement of life force, directional yet amorphous at the same time.
"What if I pursued you into the night? What if I could translate fear into a thing of dust and ground glass?"
Wow.... Beautiful
Thank you, Andee!
.. “beautiful” - i don’t understand why.. or what a ‘thing of dust & ground glass is ..
it’s not my place to critique poetry.. having little or no ‘standing whatsoever.. haha
but it’s often suggested am pretty cryptic myself - re ‘certain ‘voicing(s) i can & do deploy
the ‘thought visible in the initial stanzas ‘layout is important in my view..
Duly noted when a poet defies the ‘left justified bird caging..
& free themselves somehow from the crude limitations inherent in the App & Web
Have also asked Paul - ‘when is a poem ‘done’ - ie ‘The Final Revision or ‘Tweak’ !
ie - Do ‘questions or comments influence his Poems - after becoming published ?
And if that’s ’being a tough crowd.. amen ! There must be a reason why he appears
every single morning upon clicking ‘Home’ either first or among the first 3 or 4
(i ask a lot of questions.. when i don’t understand something.. it’s childlike .. I know ! 🦎🏴☠️
Thank you for your comments, Thomas. I suppose a poem is ‘done’ if I never feel the need to go back and rewrite or tweak it into something it never was. I like the idea of once and done so a revisit will generally result in a new poem. I don’t object to criticism so long as it’s meaningful in some way. I don’t think I have ever gone back and rewritten something because of reader comments but I do try to keep valid points in mind when I write new pieces.
.. thanks Paul.. & never a worry.. You’re among the very few here that are ‘responsive to childlike curiosity..
So yes.. the pursuit.. i ‘got’ but ‘dust & ground glass..’ has me stymied - as ‘ground glass means a lot to me
What does ‘ground glass - mean to you ?
I have only one of my poem’s posted.. re our late barn cat Buttons - buried in our ‘best saddle blanket..
Was askin a lot here.. expecting folks to invest 30 seconds & ‘he of the jackrabbit takedown etc is kinda cryptic
but that’s OK - my big sis Ellen read it to her Book Group.. and they broke out in tears (not my intention !
& pestered her to explain further.. re jackrabbit & horse paddock.. the hay mow, & big hill..
Think ol Buttons got a single ‘like - here in substack.. screw em .. he ‘ruled the barn.. kickass tough !
.. haha - will go look up ‘ground glass.. utilizing my ‘reading glasses ..
Have seen - then shot - well over 1/2 million images via ‘ground glass’
& presumably was some ‘dust generated during the ‘grinding & polishing stages
.. so have an ‘inkling.. & am 100% certain you need no explanation what an ‘inkling might be
as opposed to an ‘earthling or an ‘inkstain haha ! Keep up the fine work m’man
ya keep me grinnin.. 🦎🏴☠️🔎
I go where the pen takes me, Thomas and there are plenty of odd stops along the way.
Ground glass has been known to be put in food to cause bleeding and perhaps a silent death.
.. yes - there’s legend of such haha.. but it’s ’Paul’s Privilege haha - to ‘spill.. & aside from the pleasure of his work - a delight for a mischievous pirate to give a poke to ! Note how adroitly he still evades the central question ! 🦎🏴☠️🇨🇦
You think I can explain everything I write, Thomas?
Thank you, Richard
You know... I think suspension bridges are beautiful. I can't tell you why. I could make up a story as to why, but... It won't be able to tell you. And you might find a mountain beautiful, or lush green beautiful, or a hot dog stand beautiful. Whatever Paul's words are here, they touched some unconscious part of my record of living that sparked emotion. I use the word beautiful because there's no other word to use to convey that reality.
.. beautiful !
Paul, the beauty of reading your poetry is that I have to read it aloud several times, emphasizing different points every time. "What if I clawed away your mask to reveal an acid-breathed skin-shriveler, crippled with darkness, for whom terror is only a crutch, fear the only truth?" This line, this right here, gets me every time. Thanks again for sharing your gift, Paul.
Thanks, Steve, sometimes I have to read them twice myself
Breathtakingly painful…beautifully written…finding myself shook, once again.
Beautiful words flow from Paul.
Nice.
What if Jonah had pulled out his sword and started slashing at the fish bladder?
Maybe Jonah used both a Shofar and Conch to find a pocket to breathe.
Conch for Vespers
Chasing a ghost or a woman, you mix dread and desire here, Paul. Seeming effortless in stirring wonder at possibilities.
This kind of writing is the stuff of nightmares for me. 🫣
I don’t mean to scare you off, Teyani!
I don’t know about that Paul….
Wow! Excellent.
Thank you. Leon - I’m happy you’re here to read it.
Good poem
So powerful Paul!
You see how things can turn mid-poem? Sort of like life.
Just like life!
Powerful.
Thank you, Petrena
Soft morning…
Thank you, Jennifer
Moving poem that flows beautifully. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you, Frederick
Wow!
Thank you, LeeAnn