It evident that your words are wings that give flight to your innermost thoughts. This is sublime, introspective, and iconoclastic!

Hi Jude, this is definitely thought-provoking and deeply meaningful. Your powerful lines will never fail to catch the interest of the reader... "instead, my dreams bleed into the radiance of clear night sky"...captivating! Blessings to you.

Best Wishes,
Sheri

i admire your work

m

Jude,
The beginning had me thinking of a certain situation, and then my thoughts shifted toward the end. Your descriptives are excellent. This is thought-provoking, and it's a timeless write.
Sheila

As always, Jude, your writing is thought provoking, especially the line: "do they dare visualize poems devoid of words?" Thank you for stimulating my mind. ~leslie

Distilled vision vs. delusion. Excellent write!

Lin

"...the cleansing whiteout of stars in heat?..."
yet another transcendent write, jude.
be well,
carolyn

This one boggles me.... but then, I am unworthy.

Ron

I see no zen.
Just a soul penn with no agenda other that to radiate the visions and precepts of a poet with great talent.

The dreams will be never ending as they traverse the universe.

Nice going, Jude.

You ask some philosophical questions - is there a medium for a consciousness to exist, causal aspect will demand, yes one! but, to explain that causal connection between perceptions, actions, etc., our society, institutions create filters around us that are often flawed at their assumption.

Intense as you ask questions of a society that often is deaf to all but what is comforting, discomforting is easier to tune out and circumnavigate. Welcome back Jude.
fee

Written in an American Zen idiom, given that "beat Zen" of the 1950's in expression of post war spiritual angst. Whiteout would have spiritualist movement in Madam Blavatsky's Theosophical Society in 1880 in Sri Lanka with Colonel Henry Steel Olcott, the first American Buddhist. The two "white Buddhists" knelt before a monk and repeated the Five Precepts, nourishing the revival of Buddhism.

I'd like to make a point here, Jude Forese's poetry whiteout is in alignment with three great 19th century writers, Emerson, Thoreau and Whitman...the major voices then heralding Indian mysticism. This particular poem reminds me of what Thoreau contemplated of his solitude at Walden Pond..."I love a broad margin to my life. Sometimes, in a summer morning...I sat in my sunny doorway from sunrise till noon, rapt in reverie, amidst the pines and hickories and sumachs, in undisturbed solitude and stillness...I grew in those seasons like corn in the night...I understand what the Orientals mean by contemplation and the forsaking of works"...

So few European or North American writers have come closer than this to the non-grasping dynamic of Buddhist consciousness. Jude Forese has come closer here in his poetry than anyone I know of as a friend and peer modern-day poet...

Walt Whitman was so inspired by texts from India. Whitman's poetry, shamanistic, animistic, and Hindu by turns expresses an all-embracing affinity, celebrating encounters with wild geese, grass, black slaves and boot soles. And so, you Jude, like Thoreau and Whitman, express a temper of mind which Buddhism aspires...

s

Indeed, they dream into a radiance of clarity because they are purpose-driven: in each of the initial descriptive couplets, there is keen focus harnessed to the distraction of the fruitless mundane - yet the steely thread of determination remains, endeavouring to penetrate a compelling darkness. There's a blueprint plan that needs to be ascertained and followed, after all; even through the palimpsest of the whiteout heat of stars, the creative image blinded by the absence of sight and the poems devoid of words, the Journeyman's codex may be glimpsed beneath... Dreams may venture beyond that which might be readily seen with the naked eye, but not beyond the periphery of the Plan awaiting, as yet, discovery.

Another good one, Indianna. When the desert storm settles, you may well find your Ark perched on the highest tip of Sinai! :)) As a personal aside, the perspectives here also brought to mind the ideas I had when I wrote Eye-Spy recently: about peripheral vision and how sometimes it is easier to make things out more clearly when you look away from them (like stars in the night sky) instead of viewing them directly head-on. A tantalising tango of thought as always, Senor. Shine on, Syd! :)) xx

Jude I think the honest dreamers are in the minority! Well penned as always.

Time slips away but I always seem to come back in time to see words from you that touch me from within. Thank you for writing more then I do :-)

This is effectively penned, Jude, so haunting, these lines - exquisite imagery. Well done!

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.

Jude your words tell me you have slipped into my dreams, great write as usual.

Newfie Hugs, Rose

Bleeding dreams call for a vision of tortured nightmares, should we stop dreaming?
Perhaps not.

Georg

Interesting and well written poem.take care

Left on the edge indeed. Great write.

This makes me think, Jude, of those who lead and those who follow...and my own dreams.

John

Jude, I love what Regis said in his comment...you have a way to write that leaves your readers looking beyond the words that you leave us with...I think that is one of the things that makes your writing so darn good!

aside from your cryptic meaning, I grasp the spot on stench of what the politicians are feeding us, the same old decayed crap,thinking
they'll get away with it,and knowing the masses, they probably will.
incredible work,as always!

This poem makes me feel like I am standing on the swirling edge of a vortex, looking deep into the depths of a severed reality. It makes me wonder if I would hang on to the edge or take the leap into the unknown, in search of light,clarity and truth. Profound ponderings, Jude.
Take care,
Sherry

mystery is interpretation's greatest ally -- masterfully have you achieved that premise here Jude -- out there on the edge,the verge of unanswered questions posed to the imagination -- peace and love my frien -- Jon Michael

interesting write-i think it comes from great depth

Like Regis, I stand on the periphery of the words of this surreal, but flesh and bones poem and peek warily into its depths, and there I find myself.

As I have stated time and time again, your writing always leaves me as though on the "edge" of something... ...do I dare look inside or perhaps beyond? Great stuff, Jude. Love and peace to you,

Regis