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RE: Why Photographs Are Simply Heartbreaking (Day 16)
Masterful (as always)!
I really love this ponder -- really all the liminal aspects of life and consciousness, memories, dreams, things we cannot touch yet they live in us.
I wrote this piece some years ago late in the night after having stumbled across old photos :https://steemit.com/poetry/@mamadini/p76vb-repente-amissis-dolor
Thank you for this write as it is just what I needed to find this day.
P.S. I'm not one to share a link in a comment, yet, I think it's quite fitting here.
I'm grateful you shared your fine piece, @mamadini, which explores the same slippery territory... liminal, as you correctly put it. Time forbids attachments, to self or other, and we court madness when we attempt to do so. This is the danger of photographs, as I understand it, and what your poem illustrates very well.
Speaking of which, I'm still digesting your confessional piece from a couple of days ago, and stuck on the great tenderness with which you address the final darkness, a sentiment I'm familiar with and have also explored in my art. I quote you to you, and feel I might also be paraphrasing myself, from a poem of mine:
Soft sigh
PS - Emboldened by your share, I attach a link to work of mine. In the poem, titled Allegiances, "Destiny's son" originally read "Death's son" (but I chickened out pre-publication...)
I feel joy that you brought up that rather hard piece (not hard for me any longer as it's all been ironed, rather for those in observance) -- the gritty stuff bears such fruit and I always recognize in others, as I do in you. ;)
I am on my way to read the piece you linked here, thank you.
I adore the title "Death's son"! That piece should be done in spoken word. What a familiar slant it is, especially the third section "Key-bored", it had me in a rather riled up way saying to myself "Right-on" as the words ring true and bring on a sense of rebellion in me and yet, we are moving deeper in that reality. . . Sadly.
Tickled by your warm enthusiasm, M, much appreciated 🤓. I’ve actually never attempted to read this poem outloud, for what it reveals... Though, I’ve shared, publicly, such winking confidence:
I understand what you mean when you say it’s not hard for you, any longer, and I believe/hope/pray that I’m, finally, moving out of these cramped, dark spaces and, tentatively, into the light...
One way that I’ve found helps is to view the past as necessary, somehow, a dark blessing required to take me to the next level (as person and artist). I hope that makes some sense to you 🙏🏼
Indeed it does. : )
:) Thanks, for this nice exchange.
Yes, thank you as well, it was lovely. :)