Some of the tears he whittles into fine points. Those are good for gouging out his eyes. Others he distills. At night, blind and drunk, he pretends he can’t feel a thing.
That's one of those exceptional fusions of idea and image that take your breath away. I will go on from here pretending that I thought it up! "At night, blind and drunk," indeed. Fabulous!
Charles D. Tarlton
What draws me in most in this very powerful piece is the way the masculine is juxtaposed with the feminine. We first see emotion categorized by material production, violent physical action, war on oneself, an attempt to deny emotion–all things which tend to be associated with the masculine or animus. Then in the haiku, the feminine or anima begins to emerge, first in the form of a new moon, then the womblike void, then the all-powerful symbol of the cauldron itself. These seem to be separate at first glance. But then images begin to connect with one another–the chiseled slivers of tears with the sliver of moon, the blindness with the black, the distillation with the cauldron–until one feels a wholeness beginning to emerge from the brokenness. I love the way the title, which harkens to these soul processes we all must go through, both ties prose and haiku together and expands the piece beyond the sum of those parts.
December 7th, 2018 at 1:41 pm
That's one of those exceptional fusions of idea and image that take your breath away. I will go on from here pretending that I thought it up! "At night, blind and drunk," indeed. Fabulous!
Charles D. Tarlton
December 7th, 2018 at 1:54 pm
Wow. Just wow.
marion
December 7th, 2018 at 2:01 pm
Wow! This one is a painfully powerful twist. ?Some of the tears he whittles into fine points.? Amazing imagery.
December 7th, 2018 at 2:04 pm
Powerful imagery, Mr. Lucky. Inspiring.
December 7th, 2018 at 2:40 pm
Wowzers! That was so powerful! Thank you for sharing your work with us!
December 7th, 2018 at 3:05 pm
What draws me in most in this very powerful piece is the way the masculine is juxtaposed with the feminine. We first see emotion categorized by material production, violent physical action, war on oneself, an attempt to deny emotion–all things which tend to be associated with the masculine or animus. Then in the haiku, the feminine or anima begins to emerge, first in the form of a new moon, then the womblike void, then the all-powerful symbol of the cauldron itself. These seem to be separate at first glance. But then images begin to connect with one another–the chiseled slivers of tears with the sliver of moon, the blindness with the black, the distillation with the cauldron–until one feels a wholeness beginning to emerge from the brokenness. I love the way the title, which harkens to these soul processes we all must go through, both ties prose and haiku together and expands the piece beyond the sum of those parts.
Beautifully painful, Bob.
December 8th, 2018 at 6:40 am
At night, clear sight….I, I can't feel a thing. ( the alchemy of mourning)
December 8th, 2018 at 9:41 am
I agree with Wow! And the description of grief as a cauldron . . .
December 9th, 2018 at 6:04 pm
Brilliant.
December 14th, 2018 at 7:37 pm
Visceral. Very, very good.
February 6th, 2019 at 9:41 pm
Excellent!!