Impossible Beauty

in writing •  4 months ago

---Impossible Beauty---

-----original poetry and blog-----
----with audio recording----

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---------------------Click here---------------------
------------to listen to the recording-----------
    --of "Impossible Beauty" on Soundcloud--

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Impossible Beauty

A subtle blaze varnished on the horizon
Captivates my tendrilled aura.

I am born
In this transmission of rose and apricot
Overlaid on the planet's verdant body.

From the diffusion of warm flux
Beams surface and speak,
Tell me all the wordless truths
I can feel but never see.

A paralyzing liberation:
I cannot turn away.

On the distant nexus of fire,
Yet still so close:
A wave of brightening foreshadowing itself.

The skyheart must melt,
And I am the catylst:
Crawling through valleys
And over peaks.

Now, my vision shifts upward,
Allows quartzflakes to dust viridian.

Geometric shafts of iced light,
Doorways in the planed bark.
Sills of moss through invisible steam,
A white-green house built by spirits.

Unseen vermillion,
Flashing memory,
Vanishing roofs of cloud.

I am left with the perserverance
Of imagination's vast song.

If I wake,
I must forget this place;
Its burdensome beauty
Burns unbearably
In my mountainous soul.


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Poetry written
By @d-pend
Photography credits:

  1 — "Kirkjufelllittlefoss" by Porbital
  2 — "Into the Forest" by Bojkovski
  3 — "Mountain House" by Cannphoto
  4 — "V Fresh" by Porbital




I have been fortunate to get two excellent nights of sleep (and dreams) in a row. Last night's explorations were particularly vivid and have tinged my writing this afternoon with the impossible valleys and mountain forests of dream which I had the pleasure to wander through.

I searched for a long time on Deviant Art to find appropriate images before writing (somewhat of an exercise in futility). Alas, if only I was a skilled painter! By the way, I rarely write to visual images, typically searching for them after completing a piece. I find it exciting to use different creative processes, so it's been fun to flip the order around just recently.

Finally, I settled on a few images and used them along with my dream memories to spark the writing process. However, I was feeling a bit blocked, so I used my old friend The Most Dangerous Writing App to do a five minute freewrite. Since some might find it interesting, I have reproduced the brainstorm below:

A subtle blaze on the varnished horizon captivates me. I am immortal in this portal moment. I am alone, you are with me. These angles are impossible that shunt my perception through the edge of the mountain. Beams speak to me of hidden information in the greenery. We go through the motions of complex chemistry experiments, I am the catalyst and the mind-bending cretin. Freed from expectation, sky-octopus, I am burning with the knowledge of the Real. Exploration must cease in this eternal moment as I receive transmissions from warm hues of our distant star. Yet, so close, a wave of brightening foreshadowing itself. My vision must shift upwards to allow the quartzflakes to dust vermillion. Shafts of activated spikes. The killer of doubt in the form of our vague camaraderie. Sills emerge from the forest floor, doorknobs from the bark. Roofs vanish, I am left with the perseverance of imagination. If I wake, I must forget this place that I may move forward. Its beauty is too great a burden to carry.

Note that this freewrite was not edited. With "The Most Dangerous Writing App" if you stop writing for more than a few seconds, your session will be erased entirely!

The purpose of writing these notes is to give an impression of the basically endless varieties of approach that may be employed in the creative writing process. Also, it has been some time since I have given readers substantial background on my approach to pieces. I often like to allow a poem to speak for itself and retain its aura of sacred mystery. In this case, I thought it might be productive to share a bit about its genesis.

Have a wonderful day! I am ever grateful for your support.

In wholeness,
Daniel / @d-pend
July 2, 2018

P.S.: Expect more reflections on the 100 Days of Poetry project coming very soon, maybe later today. The next installment will likely address the Live Poetry Classes that were held in the Steem Schools Discord throughout the challenge.

By the way, although we have not restarted the Monday/Wednesday sessions of class as of yet, we will have the Thursday Critique session with @geekorner this week on July 5th at 6 PM UTC. All are welcome to attend and practice giving feedback on voice/text or simply observe the session.


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I believe that the person who try different creative things is not only passionate but intelligent as well. Nice blog..

Dream trip sublimated by ecstatic images and vivid sensations of visualization of an environment full of cosmic greatness. A beauty so "impossible" that it can help the senses and maintain the belief that it is possible to reach that place, but at the same time is aware that it is in another space that, of such beauty, is not bearable for a tormented soul. However, there is always the wait for the resource: the imagination; which is a key for the etheric portals.
Bravo, @ d-pend! This poem is a pearl in a pendant of gold and a hope for the dreamers.

I'm glad to hear you got some good sleep @d-pend.. even though I'm not convinced you slept well last night through the 504 blues.

Thanks for bringing us with you in your dream. Your dream takes us to a wonderfully beautiful place.

Before my second son was born I had dreams of fruit. The fruits were huge and so ripe. I used my hand to scoop out the meat from the fruit of a giant strawberry. I climbed a tree to get to luscious peaches bigger than my head, but the whole time I felt like I was breaking some rule just being there, like I was trespassing.

There seems to be a wonderful place our subconscious remembers... a place where dreams are made so wonderful that we feel ashamed even to enter and then so quickly forget when we get back to the world of wakening.

Do you imagine all your poetrys in your dreams.. ? I am reading you for the first time.. but being a poet myself I can feel it.. even I imagined some of my poems in dream.. sometimes I don't even have to think my poetry writes me.. but when I try to write my poems I always fail.. I feel that it's not us who write but it's the poetry who write us.. I would be glad if you could find some time and see my poetry aswell..

Are you completely talentless visually or would art classes help unlock that door ?


I used to adore drawing and did so quite a bit when I was younger. My grandma was an excellent painter and coached me through a couple simple paintings when I was a teenager. I'm sure I could learn if I put in the time and gained some confidence with that mode of expression.

I still want to see some of your paintings :-)




This is one

Beautiful faculty of imagination. Your words have painted me a Portrait of your dreams.

Thanks for bringing us with you in your dream

You were always in control of your expressions.. You're an amazing writer... Great imagery... Your minds eye is very intriguing...

sometime our dreams and imagination lead us into the different world that makes us unique from the others. but it is good experience to have such a great imagination. Thank you for sharing your post. i love it.


i agree

This post has received a 42.72 % upvote from @booster thanks to: @d-pend.