internal rhymes, imagery, the beat within the syllables are indeed pleasing to listen to when this is read out loud. There is no black void of eternity in this...your talent. rAted!

In intricate web of images and words to trap the wayward thought and alert the poems keeper. Reminds me of visions/dreams/sights and smells right before going under at a hospital on pain medication as well.

Welcome back!

peece!
dj

As always you mystify with your imagery, which only mythos - but now it seems M&M as well - can truly clarify. I normally go with my sense of it, and this one seems to suggest some sort of confusion or ambivalence. the reason for this is the opposing imagery: Diamond/madmen; delirious juice / bitter breast; triumphant tongues / languid whispers.

But then theirs your keyword, lust without guilt, girl me thinks you’re being tempted. What is a girl to do? Go for it if you’re sure you’re not going to loose your sausage behind into the black void of eternity. You’re not yet married are you?

learned about your journey to the edge and back. hope you get better soon and back helping those that need your help

a-the "diamond madmen"
fat&furiously pounding rust
remind me of a Blakean character (big surprise,hm?)
named Los:(name=reversal of 'sol')
he is the eternal prophet---symbolized as a blacksmith
who through the ages of human history
pounds the materials of the fallen world
into the stuff of visionary experience...
all thoughts, actions kept safe , stored in eternity,
the forever-here-now, which indeed to our fallen perception
seems like a great ...black...ack!...Void...

He builds up the visionary city of Jerusalem...aka the Kingdom of Heaven's Museums and Libraries...who like the city
in the Book of Revelations is a city, yet a woman...
the 'emanation' of Albion, the Eternal Universal (Hu)Man...

But visionary experience is always accompanied in Blake(in fact, in part, precipitated by)increased sensual enjoyment
which your apropos images capture..."luscious..delirious juice..languid...the bearing of enoromous bottoms (!)...etc..."

"sordid skin screaming for worship"....
sordid=base, gross, dirty, fithy,avaricious(!), covetous...

sordid only before being redeemed by vision,
which is Redemption of the fallen, base, "icky" world...
raising it to the status of...sacredness...
from its current profanity...

This is a poem full of great (heavenly)sensual expectation,
to me...in the blazing midsummer..
meridian descending...
let the party start..
"wake up!wake Up!"-j

oops--forgot...
why are they pounding rust?
the diamond madmen i mean...(note the ...mineralogical imagery here...of the earth!...diamonds, iron)

well, rust = an accretion on metals like iron...an accretion on a pure form of something...like ...alot of horseshit churchy theological nonsense built up on the pure veins of religious vision...

also...rustiic? country bumpkin..lacking in social graces....

hm. j again

This is good Angelique!

Thank you for all of your wonderful comments - James E., however, once again is able to connect what I inadvertantly pull from the "collective (transpersonal) well / spring / pool / river" to Wm Blake's squalid, sumptuous, symbolic, and deeply spiritual imagery / philosophical positioning - So I better give that old bugger a good read soon (along with the suggestions Metaness/Melissa has made...) - Time to get crackin'!

I’m writing this just as a passing raincloud burst out of the blue sky, with the fragrance of raindrops against the sun-soaked concrete and grass wafting through the sliding glass door. As I finished that sentence, the drips halted and the blue sky opened up again.

I don’t know why this setting seems such an appropriate one for reading your poem, but it does. Must be your rich sensory details and vivid nature imagery, which I could easily weave together to capture that experience: “spraying delirious juice”, “luscious forests”, “languid whispers”, “the bitter breast of summer”, and “a shadowy garden”. But there’s also a sharpness and brutality (“Diamond”, “pound”, “Triumphant”, “bitter”, “scream”) to this piece that makes me think of man’s violation of nature (I intentionally use “man” metonymously for humankind here because of your more masculine language almost suggestive of rape). This is an intense piece, hardly a “light-play”, although still evocative of the dewy faerieworld of Midsummer’s Night Dream.

Sorry for the delay—I’m much behind on my commenting lately and tend to save the more substantive stuff for later dwelling (hence the temporary negligence of my fellow commenters here!). I’ve been trying to take a step back from OS to make space for new creative work, but it’s hard to resist the sirens!

—Melissa

A-somehow i don't think yre as "inadvertant" a poetess as you make yrself out to be...the parallels to Blake just keep piling uncannily up...if you truly are just pulling things willy-nilly from the Deep, ...or, more likely ...."seem to be" , to yr current self-state, then you should get an biography of Blake...where it explains how he could eventually CONSCIOUSLY have visions, after alot of practice....like: conjuring up Ezekiel & Isaiah to dine with him..

Skip "Songs of inn & exp" at first..they are too dripped in irony tfor a modern person to understand...star with "maaarriage of heaven & hell", his "spiritual declaration of independence"...descriptions of his "memorable fancies" (=his visions) interspersed with his philosophy & the finest aphorism s ever written (puts Niertzsche to shame as a pithy condeser of the language )....

also! see my "wit & wisdom of the wise from a wiseass", wroitten (aargh)...written...written on a night with no inspiration, trying to drum some up in myself: plaguerizing, in other words, but giving credit..it has alot of marr h& hell...

"the voice of honest indignation is the voice of God"

get to it!!!
jim