arquious

2026-08-11
Haha! Who's the specialist now? 🤩🙏🕊️

2026-08-10
A very gentle clarity in the way this moment unfolds where the two monkeys on the road, the small one watching you go, and how that gaze opens something inward. The shift you make afterward, laying down the weight of the human self, feels honest and earned. The closing wish to move as soul rather than burdened body comes across softly, without force. A calm, thoughtful piece.

2026-08-10
This poem moves from the small and tangible into something wider without forcing the transition. The early image of Grållan and the chicks opens naturally into those reflections on emergence and the strange wiring of being human. The passages on your parents’ cremations are stark and honest, and the way the rain presses in later feels true to how certain memories return. The closing thought about existence being a kind of tale settles in quietly. A strong, steady piece.

2026-08-10
Albert, your diagram lays out the tension clearly, the moment hierarchy stretches, mobility becomes harder and people find themselves stranded on that landing, neither rising nor descending. It’s a sharp way to show how distance between tiers creates isolation rather than structure. The simplicity of the model works well; it invites the reader to consider how much vertical space a society can bear before connection thins out.

2026-08-10
What is it that they say about there not being any coincidences in life? This is quite outstanding about these dates!

2026-08-10
Artorius, there’s real heart in this piece,
that steady drive you capture feels honest
and close to lived experience.
You’ve shaped something that stands firm in its simplicity,
and that’s a true strength.
Keep going with this voice; it has clarity and purpose.

2026-08-09
Quiet and thoughtful, dear Ken. We are indeed shaped by the scarring in our lives. Thank you for responding to my poem "scare tissue"

2026-08-09
In such a circumstance would something have been finally said between two persons?

2026-08-09
Just hoping it isn’t too dark as to be distasteful. 🙏🏻🕊️

2026-08-09
Just hoping it isn’t too dark as to be distasteful.

2026-08-09
An excellent image of vicarious presence of the literary process and journey. Hoping all is splendid your way, David🙏🏻🕊️

2026-08-09
Nothing I can say will make i better for you but for the witness and presence in this season and its challenges. A spark rises as well in the tether that is your grandson. The coma, though, is particularly traumatic to me. Blessings Alan.

2026-08-04
This haiku captures a single luminous instant, time carrying its own atmosphere, and the halo enclosing a brief thought. It’s concise, calm, and quietly cosmic.

2026-08-04
I like how your sparks come from the clash itself, that moment where steel meets steel. The poem carries that drive for battle and the need to claim your own path. It’s sharp, direct, and true to its voice.

2026-08-04
Over here we are hitting $2 to a litre of petrol, that's not gallons, but litres. Something terrible is going to happen, the pressure is building.

2026-08-03
Loving the poem's central cosmic chessboard metaphor! In fact, I was writing a pawn and rook poetic tussle several weeks ago, but it lay on a dust heap waiting to be picked up again and dusted off. I also adore the idea of death being singular, final and mercifully unrepeatable-such a simple beauty of passing on. the flip that death imagined as happening repeatedly as a recurrent cosmic boredom in an endless cycle is astounding as well. Tickling also, is the visual of a candled dynamite lighted at both ends! Superb. In the end, a multifaceted structural necessity that though of limited movement is a tumbler mechanism of a larger design.

2026-08-03
It feels like the last thing keeping one together, self-imposed restraint plus a relationship that cannot be departed from, being bound to someone/something that both wounds and stabilises you, an unbearable connection yet without which one cannot survive.

2026-08-03
Most interesting to be carried when unable to carry oneself, of true friendship in times of adversity, and that being that final remaining social bond that rises and carries when agency collapses. It in a way brings back to me that elusive childhood visual of pallbearers carrying a closed casket where dependence and humiliation of mortality being held by others in an act of final dignity. Religion on the other hand is a mythical shroud of sorts that emulate sacred scripture but in practice is a simple carrying minus the actual physical healing (for the most part) which may be seen as impotent faith in said religion after which the said rescue is left with mere human (carrying) hands. And as the mind (in that state of loss) finally becomes unstable, contradiction becomes the only language left to express with.

2026-08-03
What strikes me is the elusivity, of their somehow knowing something that we never know or only almost about to grasp but fail to lay hold of.

2026-08-02
Some hard earned/learned truths here- resonant and fully relatable.🙏🏻🕊️

2026-08-02
Most relatable and genuinely articulates what has eluded me for years. Applauded 👏🏻🕊️

2026-08-01
Loving someone who others disapprove of can cost you your place, your pride, or your stability — but you might choose them anyway. And from experience this can most surely be attested. 🙏🏻🕊️

2026-08-01
How the weaker and less equipped could wriggle out of a tight spot is inspiring and encouraging 🕊️🙏🏻

2026-07-28
I’m bookmarking this as well. It will be easy to pull up when I need to be reminded.

2026-07-27
Our goals to meet again tether us together in the vast ocean of Unknown

2026-07-27
And sometimes even spat out as well.

2026-07-24
Thanks @Albert. The aim was for the metaphor to stay close to the body, something tender and a little raw, because healing often feels that way before it becomes anything more refined.
It’s encouraging to hear that the comparison carried that fleshy immediacy for you. I appreciate you taking the time to share your much valued thoughts. 🙏🕊️

2026-07-24
Thank you, Clara Mae. Your attention to the Volta especially means a lot. That pivot is where the poem’s pressure changes, and I’m glad it carried the sense of release and clarity you found in it.

Again, I am grateful to you for taking the time to sit with the piece so closely. Your response honours the poem. 🙏🕊️

2026-07-24
Hey, John. What struck me most was the way the poem moves from height to gravity, from pride to falling. It feels like someone trying to stay present within a shifting emotional landscape. Very subtly powerful. Rik.

2026-07-19
Memories are funny things; they are not loyal either. They drift, reshape, forget us, and live on their own terms. Perhaps we are better off not to glorify them unduly or confuse them with reality. Makes one think as well if memories as past reality remain real or morph with time and situation. Good stuff, D. 🙏🕊️

2026-07-18
Jim, I really enjoyed this piece which to me feels like winter lived from the inside out, with all its small rituals of work and weather folded into a day that’s both tough and quietly beautiful. The way you move from the cold mornings with cattle and mist into the afternoons of fixing, welding, and then finally home by the fire gives the poem a gentle pulse, like the rhythm of a life pleasantly remembered. The closing lines about being young and without fear land softly but stay with you, like something half‑spoken from another time. A lovely write, my friend.🙏🏻🕊️

2026-07-10
There’s something about the tide,
and it’s tendency to return
ebbing and waning
Very moving🕊️🙏🏻

2026-07-03
"It's just another goodbye,"
that seems to be where it's all at! 🙏🕊️

2026-07-03
Care

2026-07-03
A simple place to be, YES!

2026-07-03
The trip home can be like that on repeat after stalled periods of time loaned to others. Even if the drive was only 15 minutes from work. Most relatable.

2026-07-03
Poor against rich and rich against poor the mind can grasp and to some extent rich against rich. But poor against poor? That is the saddest state of all. It would seem.

2026-07-03
Perhaps it's old money asserting its established self?

2026-07-03
Ergo, the artist that is not creating is not fuelling the shine of their eternal flame/stellar constellation...

2026-06-27
The tree frogs songs make it all worth it!

2026-06-27
When hope is a fluid, internal projection-based on "what ifs," it acts like a vampire that drains our energy and blinding us to a toxic reality just to keep an illusion alive. However, when hope is an externally sourced, unshakeable assurance, it becomes a fixed anchor that gives us the steady resolve to face the truth and protect our well-being. The light to the vampire, so to speak. A very engaging read 🙏🕊️👍🏻🤩

2026-06-25
the moments where we live in and come alive

2026-06-24
Oh, my Allen. So relatable and sure the nuanced differences still allow for empathetic communion.

2026-06-22
That a most moving and sorrowful state that quite a few have experienced in their nuances uniquenesses. Having seen the latest Frankenstein flick (Oscar Isaac) has also added layers to this read.

2026-06-21
Is there ever such a place of profound peace that would inspire us to create endlessly or leave us so fulfilled/ruined that we no longer feel the need to create at all? You would have told us now that you've continued on, in your own unique way. R.I.P.

2026-06-21
Love the double entendre of the blinding light.

2026-06-16
Now there is a fun read!
(of course, having Spanish under the belt makes it more fun!
no cierto?!)

2026-06-16
Pillage and plunder! Now there is a more likely image. 🙏🕊️

2026-06-14
It sure mixes together different patterns of rhyme.

2026-06-13
The flow and the meaning are fluid and moving like the river of verse that issue from your pen. Much enjoyed.