the resting warmth
of liquid hope
the frozen need... These lines are soft and wonderful.
I like the feeling of cleanliness in this-- like a long, hot shower after days and days of mucking out stables. I also like the feeling of rebirth-- "deceitful seeds" scraped away, and fresh soil planted, sprouting new hope, dreams and optimistic visions.
Her garden grew with poppies popping from airy soil,
his sprouted weeds from manure.
Hers was of hope and of spiritual light,
his: rancor, lust, and dispair...
I just like the feel of this poem, Axilea. I am tempted to look up your Wiki ref but have resolved just to go with the information you give us in your lines to create an abstract picture of intent and meaning. Has definitely to do with breath and breathing... also with motherhood, I find. Various allusions come together that make me think of IVF... sorry, probably a million miles away, but I like that I can do this with poetry. Very elliptical, but compellingly so. I'm absorbed. TY Kate xx
Axilea,
Am I right in thinking a pneuma is a neume, a spirit, a breath - the very last word of your poem? But you've deliberately and very cleverly hyphenated the word to pun and point to secondary meaning...and that's crucial to the central theme.
Rich and excellently thought through.
John
What does the title mean? This is about a married woman, obviously, but one who seems to have been wronged. Many interpretations by many different minds, I'm sure. The whistle, someone is calling or warning her. She is waiting ... renewed but, for whom or what it's left to the reader.
Marvelous work.
Sandy
your words move me so...I thought I could comment but I must digest this long and thoughfully to be fair in my reply,,,I will return with a review worthy of your pen.
Ed
The simplicity of format and word usage seems to hide or sumliminate a deeper more intense meaning in this write that grabs the reader and holds him tight. One of your very best for so many emotions and questions ran throuh my mind as I was reading this again and again.
Mary Angela Nangini's poems celebrate the richness of life and love. From the city to cottage-country and the roads in between, Nangini explores the changing seasons of her varied region. (This book will soon be reprinted in hard cover.)
of liquid hope
the frozen need... These lines are soft and wonderful.
I like the feeling of cleanliness in this-- like a long, hot shower after days and days of mucking out stables. I also like the feeling of rebirth-- "deceitful seeds" scraped away, and fresh soil planted, sprouting new hope, dreams and optimistic visions.
Her garden grew with poppies popping from airy soil,
his sprouted weeds from manure.
Hers was of hope and of spiritual light,
his: rancor, lust, and dispair...
--Charlie
Cryssa
Edwin
Am I right in thinking a pneuma is a neume, a spirit, a breath - the very last word of your poem? But you've deliberately and very cleverly hyphenated the word to pun and point to secondary meaning...and that's crucial to the central theme.
Rich and excellently thought through.
John
Marvelous work.
Sandy
Ron
Ed
(((HUGS))) and love, karla.
hugs
Fee
the clarity...
Axilea, I like that you write the way I think. And vice versa.
-gene.