Prvo, iznimno mi je drago da ima i lokalaca na Metallumu (A sad na engleski da nas svi razumiju):

Unlike Gasmask, I'm able to understand the language of the poem (because Serbian is very similar to Croatian). Now, onto my interpretation.

Even without the title itself, the poem shows images of war, or of a brutal battle taking place. They're described in a very depressing manner, but also very appropriately. It seems to me as if I follow a soldier's perspective of events - in the beginning he's reminiscing about the time when he could dream and enjoy life, and then war happened. He had to fight there and, as a result, lost his life (that part of sounds stopping forever). He's then overwhelmed by the absurdity of the desolated place of afterlife, he can't accept the fact that he's dead and tries to convince himself that it's all just a hallucination. Or, maybe, it's less literal - the war has forever distanced him from all the enjoyments of life and he's forced to live with PTSD; just one moment of the horrors of war was all it was needed to break his spirit.

Now, the final phrase, "We forget", is a cherry on top of this work. I would interpret this as a comment on the current state of politics here in the Balkans, where everybody is inciting bigotry when it comes to nationality - and yet they keep forgetting that such behaviour was exactly the reason why we had a war some thirty years ago in the first place, and that war is something terrible, chaotic and horrific, something which marks people for life, not letting them sleep or function rationally.

Personally, I've enjoyed your poem and, in a similar vein as Gasmask's comments, I'll add that it does seem a bit disjointed in places, the reader doesn't know who the subjects are, but if it was your intention to purposely make the poem itself chaotic (after all, you did say that it was hermetic), then I have to say that you've done a very good job. Thank you for your submission!

Hmm, I wondered if I was missing something through the language barrier, and it seems that's the case. I can get by reading a few Romantic languages, but Serbian is a whole different ball game! Good to know that the themes are stronger with a deeper understanding: I read back over the translation and could see the kind of events Shadows was describing. It feels a bit like looking out the window covered with frost, like the pictures on Osore's website - like looking through fabric at the scene around.

For the translation, it looks like it may have been done word by word, which is why it seems harder for me to understand. It might be worth checking it by running the whole thing through an online translator as well, then changing a couple of words and checking it again. That way, the meaning might stay clearer.


I'll share a little one I wrote recently. It doesn't have a title; maybe someone could suggest one.

Through these oblong blocks I walk;
sticking up like teeth of stone.
Came they to be here by design?
A significance unknown,
strewn pieces of logic on a landscape,
now destined to worry and perplex.

Thanks a lot for reading my poem! Everything you've noticed was intentional and doesn't have to do with translation difficulties, it's just more natural and beautiful in the original, especially because assonance and aliteration and the overall sound is severed in English. I don't know if you are familiar with the works of Stéphane Mallarmé, I'm very inspired by his style and ideas: elliptic sentences, intentional grammatical mistakes/wordplay, hidden (hermetic) meaning, use of symbols... https://pesimum.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/hermetic-art.pdf
First, I would like for you to imagine a naked tree on a desolate, icy place where sky and flat ground combine in colour and structure. Everything is hazy, mixture of white and grey and you can sense the depth of it. Maybe it's snowing, but you can't tell. The silence and sharp branches encompass everything... Having in mind the image you created with those clues, you can read the poem once again and I'll send you the explanation in PM, both the original and the English translation I've just made.
P.S. Military interpretation is very interesting (although I didn't have it in mind when I was writing) and I agree, the war is nonsense and what we had in the 90's was utterly stupid and as a consequence of the conflict that shouldn't have happened, I still remember the blasts and sirens when NATO bombarded a place two streets away from my home (I was only 5 years old, so I couldn't comprehend that we all can be smashed in an instant, i.e. a bomb accidentally fell in front of a kindergarten).


I can't comment about the meaning since my English is not advanced enough to comprehend the complex poetic language. It just seems estranged, but I like the sound. You can expand it by using a landscape as a facade on which you can paint yourself (your meanings, feelings, views etc.), just like the expressionists did.

Could be the influence of Devin Townsend's last album, but I would call this "Genesis" or something along those lines
Short and sweet, 'nuff said. And you've made me learn a new English word - I didn't know what "oblong" meant before, but now I know, and therefore your poetry has a didactic element to it too Were you inspired to write this one by certain buildings or by more natural formations?



I heard about Mallarmé while I was in high school, but I don't recall his poetry that much... But symbolism does ring a bell a bit and I have to concede that it really was an interesting movement with great ideas. Symbols and hermetic writing really appeal to me.

Hm, now that you mention it, the poem becomes more ethereal and eerie, and everything seems to bathe in white colours.

The mere fact that humans feel the need to resort to war when they can't agree on certain topics is so bizarre. To sacrifice many innocent lives just to say "Yeah, my decision was obviously the right one, and if I have to kill to prove it, I'll do it."... That's just utterly depressing. It's also pretty sad when you see younger people (our age, basically) that, instead of trying to remedy the wounds and work towards tolerance and peace, keep taunting everyone because of a stupid thing called politics. But that's a subject for another time.

Now, I've written something new today... And I'll just say this. It's a bit psychedelic and I wrote it while listening to Massive Attack's "Future Proof". Make of that what you will. I've put it as a spoiler because it's a bit of a longer type. Hope you'll enjoy it!

We read Mallarme's sonnet Swan at the class, it is the rare one with clear meaning, if you read carefully.


I see no bright future for the mankind, but if we are going to exterminate ourselves by war and pollution, it will be the most ridiculous thing in the universe. I have spent so much empathy on myself and nature that I don't have anything left for (auto)destructive fools.

Your poem is interesting, I would sum up my impression in two words: apocalyptic Krakatoa. This work is very close to my heart and it was inspired by eruptions on Iceland I saw on TV: https://pesimum.wordpress.com/2015/03/27/krah/.
I sent you a personal message, feel free to check it.

Thanks for explaining about the influences, it gave a new perspective the piece. And sorry if I seemed like I was criticizing the translation too harshly: I really thought there had been a problem with it and wanted to understand the meaning more clearly. I guess that just proves the point of your writing though, that some things are almost incomprehensible and don't submit to easy definition. Especially where your poem goes into longer sentences with a lot of actions happening to each other, it's a perfect depiction of confusion and anguish, which might be a good way to interpret war or a lot of other topics that stretch our reason.


I think all your written English in this thread seems great, so maybe my poem isn't too clear either. Your idea about using a landscape to paint other impressions onto is cool and I might try it (I like the synthesis of two ideas in a poem). For this one it was a single snapshot of a thought I had during a writing exercise. I shuffle all my music and play one song at a time, then I need to finish a micro-poem during the song's runtime. I was listening to The Haunted's 'Monuments' for this one.

I can see that 'Genesis' might work, it is about beginnings and origins in a way. I was thinking of how Stonehenge in England has confused people throughout history.


Having read a few of your poems now, I find it interesting that there's often someone addressed as 'you'. In this one, only the first and last verses address anyone in particular ('thine name' is a weaker reference I guess) and those messages seem to be totally different. The bulk of the poem is narrative, told in an imperative manner that makes the images and actions quite clear but not who is involved. In fact, that technique makes the middle of the poem seem just like a collection of images, especially because they are all written in that sentimental, philosophical, or grotesque style that you seem to like.

Simply put, I feel like this one has really great atmosphere because of the rich imagery, but no definite direction. The thoughts and (I guess) metaphors are all completely separate from each other and it makes me unable to enjoy any progress or narrative in the poem. However, I really enjoyed it as a collection of images: some of my favourites include "Down will the lion sleep / With ears covered by its claws" and "Filthy towels cover the emaciated body". That second line in particular is totally different from the rest of the poem and really catches my attention as a result. Cool stuff!

No, not at all. Actually, criticism is welcomed and helps me to progress. I'm not confident about the translation mostly because of the word choice that probably would be more obscure and aesthetically pleasant (to me) if I had the English skills close to the Serbian. I wish I could read Shakespeare in the original, but I'm afraid that's never going to happen. Even Dani Filth's lyrics scream for a dictionary, which leads me to the suitable example:


I'm inspired a lot by music, but I never listen to it while I'm writing, otherwise I can't concentrate and dive into the vivid images I imagine and try to shape into the words.
Maybe it would be fun for you to try writing haiku poetry along with the music.

It's a really beautiful poem, but I have to confess, I took it a bit too literally... Maybe because I'm a bit tired at the moment. I simply had to see what other people said about it and what I found out was that it's similar to Baudelaire's "Albatross", it shows the poet himself, being ridiculed and not understood by people around him, and he's trying to be free...

Ditto. I hope it won't come to that. I understand you completely.

Glad you've enjoyed it! Now I've read your own poem (as well as your interpretation of the previous one) and all I can say is - holy shit, I was not ready for such an assault to the senses Of course, not in a negative light. I'll tell you more in a PM tomorrow



Damn, that makes so much more sense now! I feel a bit dumb for not realising that on my own



As always, thank you for your kind comments, they are much appreciated And you know what? You've said that it's a collection of images, which is exactly what it is. There wasn't a bigger picture behind the poem, I was only following my muse wherever she lead; the atmosphere was most important to me.

It's basically a series of various images that appeared in my mind under the influence of Massive Attack's song, rainy weather and night seizing control of my city, and I felt especially inspired that day, so that explains its longer form.

Concerning the 'you' thing, I must confess that I wasn't aware of that; I guess its subject changes from time to time - it can sometimes refer to me, sometimes to some unspecified person, yet seldom to the reader. In this case, the first stanza refers to said unknown person, whereas the last one refers to me. The meaning behind that last one is this: People asking me what this poem is about because of so many motifs, and I simply add that there is no answer, for it's all about the atmosphere. In short, I'm glad you like it, especially because I, for some reason, believed that you'd completely dislike it

In some ways Dani is like a modern Byron from what I've seen. CoF may be a very controversial band due to many things, but the man really knows how to write interesting lyrics full of imagery, not limiting himself only to the style of "white forest, black metal, dead soul, frozen moon"-type of lyrics that a lot of bands in such vein do.

Yeah, I like the way Dani writes and it always made the first listen of a new CoF album very special, because I had to sit there with the lyric booklet to keep up with him. His themes aren't always that creative (a lot of vampires and lesbians don't help) but he has a great sense of poetry and rhythm - uses rhyme really nicely with the music. I've heard he was influenced a lot by Martin Walkyier from Sabbat, who actually has very similar delivery if you listen to him.

Anyone got anything else to share? I'll find another one if not, but I'd prefer to read all kinds of different things.

I understand what you mean about music interfering, but I really need something to take me out of the normal world while I'm writing. I'm quite introverted in the sense that I can't concentrate when other people are around me, so putting in my headphones helps me block it out. Also, music sets an atmosphere for the writing and there's often a strong link between what I'm listening to and what I'm writing, even to the point that I'm writing about the song sometimes.

I don't really like haiku or other very structured forms of poetry, because I like the form to be unpredictable and reveal something about the nature of the writing. Fixed form is good for challenging skills and setting up parameters; I just don't often want the poem to be that fixed.

Indeed.


Haiku can be extended, but I enjoyed writing it in a traditional form and reading Japanese haiku as well.
Although I prefer free verse, I wish I had the opportunity to be trained in traditional versification. It's a shame that creative writing does not exist at my university.


Due to the lack of motivation and linguistic competence, I don't have any more translations. :-/

I knew it. I knew that somebody would make that connection

Gasmask, do you have any more stuff? I'll refrain myself from posting for the time being, I have a lot of work to do this week concerning college...

I've been super busy this week too...but let's keep this going. This one's a little bit darker than my other stuff; feels good to write in that style occasionally, more powerful perhaps.

The Growing Hunger

At first, surprise
spreads warmly, sinking
like the sated into hunger,
like a hag
sitting on your chest;
something you don’t understand
takes hold of you, a grip
on your blood, on your
nerves and

tightens, swelling your
eyes to swallow shapes dream-sculpted,
rising and falling
like subconscious hills,
like your forgotten
breath, knowingly mesmerized;
now dreaming of swelling
shapes, falling

into a gnawing hunger
for something you don’t understand
to take hold of you,
to grip you by the nerves, robbing
you of breath, like a
hag sitting on your chest.

I like how the motifs become stronger and stronger as you read. And the descriptions... Man, they're almost visible to the naked eye. Awesome work! I especially like the lines "to swallow shapes dream-sculpted,/rising and falling/like subconscious hills". Beautiful!

I wrote something a couple of days ago, and this time I was listening to Devin Townsend's "Unity".

Rapture

An ocean's scream
Trapped within your eyes
An infinite white desert
To take you inside
Life is but a glass marble

Unconscious, yet so aware
The empyreal birds sing in unison
Yet harp's strings are made of your blood
And tears are but a frozen veil
Keeping you in this ethereal wasteland

Translucent limbs rise up in the air
Voiceless screech that creates no storm
"It's beautiful," say your pallid lips
But no echo does your heart produce

Silver pillars stretched for eternity
Hospitality of an unfathomable horizon
A winged creature walking
Dwelling forever in liquid oxygen
After a while struggles to breathe

No, I am not the anodyne
For your hidden wounds
The morning's light isn't the same
Without the presence of brown spirits
Gazing from below

An explosion of colours
A thunder of voices
A prison of touches

Tell me of the whispers
Telling me to watch the naked sky
Were they born with me
Or have I given birth to them?

The reveries
Of an unknown, familiar place
Can never be resuscitated

This is lexically clear enough for me. It seems like it speaks about addiction. If by a hag you mean a witch, than I see an allusion to sleep paralysis. Alternatively, literary subject might be frightened after having a strange, perplexing desire.
When it comes to the structure, I like free verse and enjambment. Rhythm and sound are carefully executed as well.

Yes, it's exactly that kind of hag I was writing about. A friend of mine told me several years ago about a very scary experience he had with sleep paralysis, where he woke up and not only felt but also saw something like this sitting on his chest and pinning him down. I think your readings about addiction and desire and fear are really spot-on, because although I wrote it with lots of words that have open meanings the original subject matter was partly erotic and partly uncomfortable, like that almost sick feeling you get in your stomach when something sensual is happening to you but you have no control over it. It's about that balance between fearing something and wanting it too.

The enjambment feeds into the openness of this kind of poem, which I'm fond of too. Reading to the end of one line and anticipating what might come next, I hope the reader can get an idea of some of the words that I didn't write, which I replaced with metaphors instead. Especially all the parts about swelling and gripping and nerves.


Thanks for your comments, I worked hard to get the motifs to work in both directions for that one; first as something awful and later as something desirable, though I'm not sure if it comes out that way. I'm also pleased with the lines you picked out, I'm just not sure if you would like them as much (or perhaps more, who knows!) if I told you what the metaphor referred to.


You know, I feel like your style becomes more solid each time I read one of your poems. All the images cover such a wide spectrum but emotionally they attach to quite a similar root. This time, the nostalgia that I feel when I read your work comes out directly in the last verse. A lot of the verses seem slightly detached from each other (separate images and focuses), yet the same high pitch of emotion continues through them, and there are little revelations at certain points, such as that "Winged creature walking...struggles to breathe" section, which I really like. It's almost gnomic because the other voices disappear at that point, and it's written as a statement of fact.

I get the feeling I'm reading spiritual stories with this style. When you write, do you attach a specific meaning to different images, or are they often written for the joy of variety and the release of fantasy?

I see you've said it has something to do with sleep paralysis too, which is the first thought that came to my mind when I saw the word "hag" combined with "sitting on your chest". More precisely, this image.

It does come that way now that you mention it, a grip on blood, the concept of hunger itself... It really does go both ways.

Feel free to tell me, I'm really curious now



First of all, as always, thank you for your kind comments!

I'd say that you're right on the money with that observation. Whenever I write, it usually begins with an idea of an atmosphere I want to convey or with a really interesting verse that suddenly pops in my head. My natural instinct is to follow that rabbit wherever it may lead me. When it comes to verses being a bit detached from one another, it's simple - I don't really like to repeat myself. Of course, the main idea/atmosphere, I want it to permeate all the verses, but multiple focuses and various different images that may as well describe the same thing - the need for including them comes naturally to me.

Concerning your question, I'd say both. However, I don't know which idea is more prevalent as I tend to combine both things equally while I'm writing. In other words, one verse may be just my exploration of fantasy, whereas another can have a specific meaning to it, usually hidden by a metaphor.

I hope I don't bore you, fellas, but here's another one... Felt a bit inspired today.

Minus the word 'computer' and I'm engulfed by loss, despair and destruction.
Melancholy is always welcomed. Your poem painted vivid images and put me in the right mood and that's all I need. I feel like I would destroy the atmosphere If I tried to dissect it.

Ah, Henry Fuseli always knows what it's about. I've actually got an old (and not very good) poem based on exactly that picture. It's a pretty good picture to sum up this poem; you just have to imagine the position of the woman and the demon reversed...kind of. The couple of lines you picked out, the dream-sculpted shapes and subconscious hills both have to do with the form of female bodies. Maybe the idea of them, maybe the reality. As for the verbs, I'll allow you to apply the rest of the meaning.



Hmm, I used to write much more in that way, especially when my writing had lyrical structures rather than poetic structures. These days, I tend to think of what I'm writing about first because words don't just slow into my head in the same way. I think that shift occurred when I had less time for writing and I no longer had a subconscious poet/lyricist working under my regular brain.

As for not repeating yourself, it's great. I hate even to repeat the structure of a poem unless it's something really formal like a sonnet. It makes your poems a bit like a holiday, because when I read them my brain goes to a different place for a few minutes and then comes back to reality. This one in particular felt like waking up from a really cool dream.

But actually I like this one a little bit less. I'm not sure that the short lines and verses do it any favours, because the images don't develop very much and seem more like a list than anything connected. I don't really experience it in the same way as the last one.

Also, something that Osore picked up on is that the poem does have a couple of words that stand out very clearly from your set of vocabulary. 'Computer' is clearly in contrast to everything and I'd say 'schizophrenic walls' doesn't fit well either. Sometimes you can use a very different image or word to shock the listener and wake them up to what is happening, but if you're trying to create an atmosphere, it doesn't help to put in those unusual words.

It's not a bad poem by any means: I just feel that it comes across less artistically complete than the previous one you shared. A question: do you guys tend to edit poems after you've finished them? From the care that Osore took with 'Panzer', I would guess that had a lot of editing before it was finished.

I'm glad you liked it.



Oh, now I see! Naughty



That's alright, I believe that the most important thing with poetry is this: The poet should be comfortable with his/her way of writing and shouldn't force something if the need for it doesn't come naturally. Whether it be the usage of poetic or lyrical writing, rhyme/free verse... You gotta do you. Sometimes the poet changes as a person and it's only logical that the poems will follow in the same vein. That's actually a great thing because in retrospect you can admire all the different things you've managed to do.

That's arguably the biggest compliment I've got thus far! I'm so happy that my poems manage to do that for you



Thank you for your honesty, I'd reckon one can't develop if he/she's always pampered To be perfectly honest, this is exactly the kind of a poem where I gave more vent to fantasy than to the meaning behind it, so your comment about it being almost like a list is not so far-fetched. It's different from "Rapture" precisely because of that - I was having more fun with words with this one.

I should've seen that comment coming. Yeah, I have to admit, it felt a bit strange to incorporate the element of a computer into the poem. Another reason why you may not like it as much is because, in hindsight, there's a conflict between different atmospheres rather than the presence of only one, so it feels a bit disjointed. But I had fun writing it. It seems like I'm always more inspired to write when I'm outdoors, and especially if I don't remain in the same place. But, alas, that may also be the reason behind the ADHD that is this poem

I'll answer the last question in a separate post, this one is getting too long.

I may edit it if I encounter some grammatical mistakes or I might replace a word if I see that it doesn't suit the poem very well, usually right after I'm done with it, but editing them for/after a longer period of time? No. Here's the deal: I write 99% of my poetry on the spot because I find it very difficult to return to the same headspace I was in while I was writing it. I've tried to finish a rough sketch of poetry time and time again after a couple of days have passed, but to no avail, it simply doesn't feel right.

Yeah, I'm totally with you on this point. I hate to go back over things in detail, because I probably wouldn't have written anything if I hadn't thought it was right. Occasionally, I write a poem on the computer and then copy it up by hand and find that a few lexical tangles come undone in the process, just by the motion of writing. That's always neat.

It's one reason why a lot of my poems tend to be quite short.

Vignette

A faded painting,
oils cracked and edges tattered,
of a woman with eyes downcast,
her finger placed over lips
small and shut;
the cover for an album
called Never Comes Silence
that sings of faith’s struggles
and ghostly visions
in ever more sombre chapters;
a man behind glass,
young and dressed for work,
musing on that image
as he watches from the window;
two women,
a tower and a thimble,
wearing identical cream heels
and deep in distracting conversation
when one looks up with sombre eyes,
puts a finger to his lips.

This one was written almost at the same time as the last one I posted. (All are a year or two old because I don't have much quiet time for writing now.) One of my favourite ways to write is just to make a really expansive sentence that ties its origin in a knot when it comes to the end. The album in question is by the US doom band Revelation, in case you're curious.

I also don't edit, but I think I have to start practising it since I no longer fall in love with my newborn pieces. It took me so long to become self critical. In the past I used to consider particular work of art as the best until I write something better.
I classify works like Panzer in hermetic prose category, which is basically a prose poem. Its structure falsely resembles a poem. I write that kind of prose slowly and simultaneously take notes on a margin decoding my symbols (this is how Panzer was written and I haven't edited nor revised it at all). Couple of my latest writings were written without side notes and explanation because I've lost that huge appreciation and belief in my capabilities. I'm not a skilful poet and this is why lyrical prose is my asylum.
After some time I figured out that having a master plan/strategy is counterproductive. This is why I prefer what was written in situ, like Panzer. Another problem is that I have huge expectations, which is not motivating at all and I dread. For example, I struggled with a sonnet last year, but when I decided to create a poem just for the fun, it turned out much better than the former. Similarly, one time I created 4 poems in succession because it was considered a practise and I was relaxed.
Another fact is that I choose only 'the crucial' subjects, always pessimistic.

I was wondering if multiple grammatical persons could justify the lack of cohesion in Panzer.

As for the Vignette, I'm afraid that I don't understand this part:
two women,
a tower and a thimble.
Thimble is:
1. a small metal or plastic cap with a closed end, worn to protect the finger and push the needle in sewing?
2. a short metal tube or ferrule?
3. a metal ring, concave on the outside, around which a loop of rope is spliced?
I imagined a women tall like a tower and the other short (like a thimble). ;-D Grotesque. Salvador Dali calls me.
Probably women have nothing to do with the nouns and I just went astray.

It's the opposite for me, I have a mental image connected to the every piece I wrote.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE WINDOW by Stéphane Mallarmé (1842-1898), translated by Jethro Bithell


Stefan Malarme: Prozori

I think it's kind of a conundrum about judging your own work, because on the one hand you need to have confidence in your own work, but also recognize your drawbacks and improve on them. If you don't think that your new material is very good, maybe that's a confidence thing or a sign that it's time to try something different. Creativity can go stagnant sometimes, and I have gone through periods where I don't believe in my writing. The only thing to do is keep writing.

All those side notes and personal symbols are kind of cool, even if you know they won't come across to the reader or if you don't believe they have a great significance. All poems work as a form of code, because the language is very rarely straightforward and usually opens itself to different interpretations. Sometimes writing poetry is just a challenge to contain all the meaning you want in a certain form and, while the readers might appreciate the way you've done that, you will probably be interested in the original content too, as well as the way you've transformed it. In the end, poetry is about making something and you use whatever tools you like, even if they aren't the most suitable for the task.


Oddly, I've forgotten why I went for that particular image, but I was certainly thinking of the first definition of thimble and I was using it to compare the size and shape of the two women. It being grotesque wasn't absolutely what I was going for, but that kind of slide out of reality was intended to set up the weirdness of the ending. Really, it was to make the reader instantly see the difference between the two women and the emotional distance that separates the man behind glass from them. They are depersonalized by the description and the imagery itself probably just came to me in the moment.

Does that make it any more easy to comment on?


That's a poem with an almost tangible sense of harshness that comes off it. I really get waves of misanthropy and disharmony from almost every part, yet it seems in essence to be "I'm staring out of the window and I'm in a really bad mood." The power of words.

So good to see a new participant here!

About your poem, I'm imagining a bunch of things...

"Dreams were hiding an ash’s germination of winged wedges.
Then dismal fell and covered."

The fallen in battle, those ashes now remain under what the soldiers were somewhere in time, but lost forever, germinating that ash under those angelical wedges, like a dead flower that for some reason it keep growing to demonstrate the hopelessness at the edge of the world

"Sounds were gifting.
Like in a moment, speechlessly and eternally, they’ve been petrified by something."

Is the imminent, irreversible dead that appeared just in one second to other?

Here, this is beautiful:

"Skeleton in desolation scratches wavy fogginess of blind depths there, in heights.
She thrones among and with nothing. Infinity behind endings of dissolved minerals.
Karst so scary without itself, alone without room of its shrouds."

The thing that is making me like this poem even more is the "she", is she the dead? The dead memories? Is a personal put that resembles a personal experience struggling with love that meant a war at some point?
Now when we get to Karst line again a soldier is mentioned, isn't it?

Correct me please



I just imagined a machine that surpass human mind and feelings, it starts to think, comprehend the world, now feels love, depression, loneliness, the insanity of this, therefore it's loosing the innocence, all produced just in a fraction of second..

Title.. Hmmm, Entombment of a Machine?

gaskmask_colostomy wrote:

This describes exactly when I felt into depression
You touched a nerve, congratulations gaskmask!

DividerOfShadows wrote:

I always love the places you make on your poems and their contrast, a wasteland, frozen tears, desert, an ocean..

"An ocean's scream
Trapped within your eyes
An infinite white desert
To take you inside
Life is but a glass marble

Unconscious, yet so aware
The empyreal birds sing in unison
Yet harp's strings are made of your blood
And tears are but a frozen veil
Keeping you in this ethereal wasteland"

Translucent limbs rise up in the air
Voiceless screech that creates no storm"

At here I'm imagining 3 things here, some kind of Animus, like Assassin's Creed where all seems to be produced in the mind of this person (but these things were real). Second thing is Alcest, I don't know why.. "Yet harp's strings are made of your blood"
And tears are but a frozen veil
Keeping you in this ethereal wasteland"

Those harps are veins?
Frozen veils means that those tears are no longer credible?

Veil.. woman? When I read you I always find a woman, that's brutal

See here again:

"Translucent limbs rise up in the air
Voiceless screech that creates no storm
"It's beautiful," say your pallid lips
But no echo does your heart produce"

Is like that woman (if you are talking of someone at some point) is not alive, like if she is not anymore, and she harmed a lot the word presented here.

"Silver pillars stretched for eternity" Stones graves?

"No, I am not the anodyne
For your hidden wounds
The morning's light isn't the same
Without the presence of brown spirits
Gazing from below

An explosion of colours
A thunder of voices
A prison of touches

Tell me of the whispers
Telling me to watch the naked sky
Were they born with me
Or have I given birth to them?

The reveries
Of an unknown, familiar place
Can never be resuscitated"

Here my point again.

Thank you for sharing these! I hope comments

All the youth soldiers fallen in battle where their country just abandoned them
Just to lay in the bloody sharp side of the ally blade
Just to be forgotten decades later; and be forever drowned in that lake of forgiveness where brothers killed brothers
The innocence lost, the life been taken by powerful psychopaths leading the world.

All of that came to my mind



Came up to my mind a schizophrenic, passionate for this woman, imaging a place that is not where he is, seduced by the temptation of this woman (because his mind is creating a doppelganger). But after everything, she's not really there, he thinks he's ready to go to work when in reality, there's no runaway from this noise, the tower trapped his collapsed mind, and the thimble his fingers, he can't touch, he can't move, he can't escape.

I know my mind is a little weird...

@ᴎostalgiʞK
It's great to see you back! Your readings of the poems bring out a lot of new points, though I've gotta say you often see the dark side of them. Your analysis of 'Vignette' is like a poem itself; I think you've made a more interesting story than in the original poem.

Did you write anything new when you were away?

That time began couple of years ago. I made some structural innovations: cut the piece into fragments and combined it with a photo that I took (https://pesimum.files.wordpress.com/2016/12/puzzle-final-version2.pdf if zoomed, the words in Cyrillic can be seen) and made a collage (https://pesimum.files.wordpress.com/2016/11/d0bad0bed0bbd0b0d0b6-cf9b-d0b7d0b0-d0b1d0bbd0bed0b3.pdf). Maybe I need to come up with completely new style of writing.

Exactly.
I think the most prominent feature of poetry is style/aesthetics. There are a lot of similar novelists compared to the poets, but they probably are not linked to one another because they write different genres and people focus on plot, whereas in poetry the style and form come first. I'm generalising, it's not good.

Thanks for the explanation. It is a good vignette indeed; something I don't write, but it's nice to see contemporary moments shaped into a poem like that. It would have been horrible if you had included city motifs, slang and words like twitter, app, selfie etc. Only surrealist approach would allow it to become escapist and not some rap-hip-hop-slam... rubbish or at least something solid, but not to my liking.

THE WINDOW by Stéphane Mallarmé Its essence is more complex, about artist's inability to reach the absolute (Azure) and beauty, which might be the same. Beauty and death are also related, which he took from E.A.Poe. The window separates him from the beauty; he can see it, but he cannot reach it, just like he cannot get closer to the absolute (nothingness) in his poetry.

My apologies for ruining your interpretation, but I didn't have a single military motif in my head while writing it. On the other hand, I'm glad to learn how the title can be misleading. If you're interested, I can send you the explanation in PM because I don't feel comfortable disclosing it here where practically anyone can find it.

Sure man!

Thanks man!!!

MMM... I'm writing this right now.

Counting hours in shadows
Where memories drowned in my head
Beds of air disengaged of this space
An old bottle calling me again

A long haired widow whispering
Dreadful emptiness approaching to me
Empty black moon falling
Just to see what I always have been

Aaargh, the second one really reminds me of a novelist who did a very similar style, but I've forgotten who. Someone recent, maybe 1990s or 2000s. Mallarme probably had something similar too. It's cool to play with the form like that and include other media, because it expands it out of poetry and makes it generally "art". For me, words are always enough, but I like to play with forms as well. Sometimes, the form really changes the meaning of the words and produces a different experience, which is why some modern novelists do it too. I think that goes back to the weird Lawrence Sterne when he wrote Tristram Shandy.


Haha, I've written a few poems that go in for all that, especially a period of time when I was really fascinated by industrial landscapes and stuff like car parks, which horrified me on some weird, conceptual way. I'll post one later this week and see what you think As for the surrealism of it, it really captured the moment as I saw it. You can actually get the boring information about what was happening from the poem, but the process of writing tried to convert it into an experience rather than just info.


You see, this is the kind of writing that works well on several levels. Even though I was totally ignorant of the fact that it was intended to express that quest for the absolute, I was moved by the writing in a different way. Despite the deeper meaning remaining inaccessible to me, I don't feel like I missed out on the poem.

This really looks like some lyrics from some old school gothic or doom metal. A bit like Katatonia's first album; very desperate and lonely, but beautiful too. I can't quite make out a fixed subject, though the cool images and creative verbs are nice by themselves.

Damn, I can't do the indents for that poem on this website.

I don't have a blog I can put it on. Damn.