I feel the unattended darkness most in the early hours of the morning. I try to write it out of me, create something from it so I can move forward in my day. It stays in my heart,... 💕
I nearly didn't read this poem because one quick scan told me it was too long to bother with. However, I read the first bit (as a matter of courtesy, so I told myself, you know, being socially trained to be polite rather than instant-gut-truthful) but then found a deeper truth by reading it right through to the end. I accord with many of the sentiments. Best regards, Josh.
This resonated with me on so many levels, Eric. Thank you. Identified with many of your thoughts, especially “wondering how to keep the wolf of insignificance at bay,” and “ the unpoetic masses.” Comforting to know I’m not the only one feeling the hollowness of existence in those early hours before dawn.
Thank you Erik. These sentiments are close to my heart. I appreciate the search for dignity without which our world would not be inhabitable and I hope that force will propel you further.
If that poem doesn’t ring all the bells of existential dilemma and angst. But with an underlying current of bittersweet acceptance and requisite disengagement necessary to really live. It speaks to me.🙏
This was so timely and resonant for me. Thank you, Erik. You perfectly captured what often happens during those ambrosial hours. I love the photograph - there's just something so powerful about mountains, don't you think? In 2020, at almost 67 and living in the city, I had a moving mantra "I want to be able to walk out my door into the forest, and I want to see mountains." An invisible force led me here, where I now sit typing, looking at the forest and at the mountains.
So much more to reflect on in your poem. Certain I will be returning to it again.
Thank you. Universal truth when spoken resonates deep in our bodies. Swallowing this affirms me.
I feel the unattended darkness most in the early hours of the morning. I try to write it out of me, create something from it so I can move forward in my day. It stays in my heart,... 💕
Here for the unattended darkness within.... 😉
Wow. What a beautiful poem! The kind you have read multiple times.
Back from your road trip to where you met the Jedi?
In a world where a depraved presidential candidate
sells red, white and blue bibles
to suckers born ever minute
to line his own pockets,
and his opponent keeps giving money and munitions
to one side of a religous freak war,
I wish I had renewed my passport,
but since I didn’t,
and even if I had,
Americans ain’t all that welcome
to live indefinitely
like they once wuz,
at least not in Canada,
and since I have plenty of
demons running amock nearby
and within,
I’m left with,
resolved,
or not,
to take yet another look
in the mirror on the wall,
old and ornery,
wondering why the fuck
I’m still here?
But since I am...
Wow! My feelings given words...
I nearly didn't read this poem because one quick scan told me it was too long to bother with. However, I read the first bit (as a matter of courtesy, so I told myself, you know, being socially trained to be polite rather than instant-gut-truthful) but then found a deeper truth by reading it right through to the end. I accord with many of the sentiments. Best regards, Josh.
This resonated with me on so many levels, Eric. Thank you. Identified with many of your thoughts, especially “wondering how to keep the wolf of insignificance at bay,” and “ the unpoetic masses.” Comforting to know I’m not the only one feeling the hollowness of existence in those early hours before dawn.
The best part!!
And I will doff the gross garments
of a false existence and
ascend that sanctified mountain,
emancipated at last from the
lifeless stone of reality,
reborn into the eternal realm
of celestial vistas and enchanted
gardens, a place beyond the
illusions of opposites, where the
struggle between life and death,
dark and light, heaven and hell
finally subsides,
Dear writer,
"I wait for that Ultimate to approach too,
So I doff the gross covers,
Of lies and fame too,
Like many of us would,
And ascend to the heaven,
To see what I have been
down here.
All I can do now,
Is to wait for the fate,
With unwavering faith in it to occur."
Thank you Erik. These sentiments are close to my heart. I appreciate the search for dignity without which our world would not be inhabitable and I hope that force will propel you further.
Brilliant
Bravo! Bravo! 🌹🌹🌹
If that poem doesn’t ring all the bells of existential dilemma and angst. But with an underlying current of bittersweet acceptance and requisite disengagement necessary to really live. It speaks to me.🙏
This was so timely and resonant for me. Thank you, Erik. You perfectly captured what often happens during those ambrosial hours. I love the photograph - there's just something so powerful about mountains, don't you think? In 2020, at almost 67 and living in the city, I had a moving mantra "I want to be able to walk out my door into the forest, and I want to see mountains." An invisible force led me here, where I now sit typing, looking at the forest and at the mountains.
So much more to reflect on in your poem. Certain I will be returning to it again.
Another potent, poignant poem as fitting response:
"I am tired of little tight-faced poets sitting down to
shape perfect unimportant pieces.
Poems that cough lightly — catch back a sneeze.
This is the time for Big Poems,
roaring up out of sleaze,
poems from ice, from vomit, and from tainted blood.
This is the time for stiff or viscous poems.
Big, and Big."
~Gwendolyn Brooks
Thank you, Erik. And the photo is stunning.
Man it’s so hard down here to affirm hope. I’m not sure what I just read but it felt just right.