Maybe it's just me, but I'm a big fan of "widowed aura" instead of "aunt." -Paige

@evernightrose5152

4 жыл бұрын

I backed up 10 seconds to recheck what I just heard

"I have liked lamps in evening corners, and quiet poems. There has been fear in my life." That part got me. Because I too have liked quiet poems, and I too have much fear in my life.

"if light had not melted clouds and plains to beauty, if light had not transformed that day, I would have leapt." This rings true - how light, at the right time of day, is beautiful in a way that heals.

“yesterday I stood in a crowded street that was live with people, and no one spoke a word, and the morning shone. Everyone silent, moving... Take my hand. Speak to me.” This poem is so gorgeous, you can feel the desperation in the speaker’s voice for that deep, meaningful human connection we all crave ❤️

Might be one of my favorites from the series so far

@ourspoetica

4 жыл бұрын

So glad you feel this way! Carl Phillips has incredible taste in poetry and is also one of my very favorite poets of all time! So I'm happy this is connecting with you.-Paige

I'm a freshman English major this year and I've been having moments where I fall out of love with poetry (even though it is the thing that saved me). having moments where I can hear things like this bring me back.

This makes me feel feelings. I do not quite understand or comprehend them, but they have a shade of sadness. But for myself or those in the poem I do not know. However, I do know I don't "get" this poem, but perhaps that's the point? Two people (maybe more?) communicating, just missing that spark of true understanding? Either way, I do love this channel. It makes poetry seem more real and visceral than I have previously experienced. Thank you for this channel.

@ourspoetica

4 жыл бұрын

Yes Yes Yes! I love what you've said about these people "missing that spark of true understanding." And I am a big fan of approaching poems without trying to "get" them! -Paige

@ijustlikethiscrapokay

4 жыл бұрын

+

@micahscanz

4 жыл бұрын

Please don’t stop reading/listening to poetry. You’ve finally leapt over the largest, most daunting hurdle that everyone must first cross: the desire to “get” it, to be part of the in crowd and know what’s really going on behind the scenes. The secret is that there isn’t anything to get. At least, not in the way that most people think and hope to achieve, and I can always tell when someone is truly starting to “get it”. It really is a wonderful journey, poetry. Keep walking, but stop regularly to admire the roses and red poppies along the way. It’s not where you’re headed that matters so much as the act itself of getting there. That’s where all the fun is.

I remember watching a physics video about how the atamos of 2 touching objects don't REALLY touch each other because it's physically impossible. They come close but don't touch ... Maybe humans are the same way.

@asawerabbood

4 жыл бұрын

reading your comment , remembering the cuddle of my friend.. thinking that we were the closest atoms to each other in the world.. & I wanna give you a *big hug* who ever you are..❤

For me poetry is hit or miss, this knocked me out

Sometimes I wish I wouldn't connect with such art that takes my reality and sprawls it on canvas to call it beauty. Sometimes I wish I wouldn't see the beauty because in doing so I have to acknowledge the truth of the pain. Sometimes I wish I could hold back the tears when words cut through my walls; but now is not one of those times. I weep in gratitude.

@RZ-bo1mf

4 жыл бұрын

CranderianGlow you write beautifully. i have never connected so much and so deeply with a comment before. but for this, i want to thank you. thank you for taking my reality and sprawling it on this comment section in such an articulate manner.

@MasterCrander

4 жыл бұрын

RZ You're welcome and thank _you;_ it's cathartic to just let these off into the void of internet aether but when it drifts by someone else on its way out - I'm glad of it. You're not alone, Godspeed fellow cosmonaut.

This is the first poem in English that I've truly connected to. I feel like its themes are so universal. Awesome channel.

@ourspoetica

4 жыл бұрын

How wonderful! Thank you so much for sharing this with us. -Paige

"I stood in a crowded street that was live with people, and no one spoke a word, and the morning shone. Everyone silent, moving....Take my hand. Speak to me" Man this got to me. It speaks to me of times when we are surrounded by so many people and still we feel alone and everyone else just keeps moving forward and it makes you wish for any person to just stop and speak to us. To make us feel known. Beautiful.

The colons at the beginnings of stanzas remind me of how dialogue is presented in a play.

What a punch in the gut is this poem 💙

"i want now to be close to you. I would link the minutes of my days close, somehow, to your days"

Really loving this channel! I definitely have a newfound love of poetry. Listening to it changes the experience entirely.

@ourspoetica

4 жыл бұрын

Thank you so much for spending time with poetry in this way. -Paige

I started off not really getting this poem and then as the verses roles on, I felt myself being drawn in and becoming more and more emotional until I felt tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat. Hey powerful and rather hard hitting truths being told.

This poem brought me to tears. I felt it and I'm crying.

I am crying and the only reason why, that I can pinpoint, is how I've imagined the things that I feel are said and the parts that are just thoughts.

Thre is so much to unpack about this poem

I felt the poem in my heart ❤.

The last line of the poem is 'speak to me. ' and that is the line that spoke to me most.

"...the veer of gulls..." carved a swath in my sky dreams.

It's been an hour since I watched this the first time, and I had to come back and watch it again. These words stay with you.

"Oh grow to know me." Oof. That just sticks with me.

I love this channel so much. Thank you for this.

I may have a new favourite poem.

this is my favourite poem on this channel so far

This one got me

I am taking a creative writing class this semester, my first one ever. We started the semester with a unit on poetry. This happened to be the first poem we read as a class. My professor had her original copy of the collection that she stole from her high school with a back cover falling off from years of use. This poem means a lot to me now

I’m not sure what I saw in this poem, but as far as I know this poem told a story of a boy who have a lot of people surrounding him but could not connect well with them because they have their own life going on. I have a friend that I care so much about her but she could not see the love I gave. It hurt me when I saw her in pain and it excites me when I saw she’s happy. She just could not see that. At one point, I felt that all the effort I gave is just a piece of shit and I want to give up. But I didn’t One day, she told me that she diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder (MDD). And that explains so much why she could not see the love I gave. I glad I didn’t gave up at the first place. If someone I know wrote this poem, I will definitely reply the poem with the word of love that I knew they would not even believe it. So dear disconnected and lonely people in this world, there is actually people out there who care about you. They did not lie about that.

I think this is the first poem that's made me feel like I get why people like poetry so much

I appreciate you bringing on such great poets.

Literally crying. This one is so good.

I love her work. you inspire me to go back and re visit her stuff

This was beautiful.

Coming back to this again and since I've translated it into arabic I've noticed that Aura and Aunt differ by only one letter in arabic.

Is it me or it is like that? It feels like a song!

Oh wow wow wow

“white sails against a sky like music” i remember an absolute favorite artist of mine: Sky Sailing! really beautiful music right there check them out😭

A QUESTION OF FLOWERS I. Generations, I cling to the image: bougainvilleas breaking away. Slow descent into palms of children unable to fly kites. Summer heat and translucent visions. Where are the sparrows, hope's usual metaphors? I love the sound of "crushed petals". Children, stare at the residue, at apparent lines. They are the trodden paths of Coleridge and Villa. They are your footprints foretold. Bloodied, ever flows. Wash your hands with the scent of forest fires, remnants of undoing. Play with me, in memory of generations past who tilled whatever left by crows and bugs. II. Play, that I admonish you with the ways of drunken poets. That we're in the company of yellow bells, santan, dama de noche. They must be parables of tainted selves. How immersed in rain showering twigs and thorns! How embraced the role of visitants! Our eyes yearning for extracts! For petrichor has arrived: heaven meets earth, gloom meets sensation. Dungeon of a home: is this for collective dread for the withered, untamed? III. I missed all about innocence, excavations clanking through the garden, crumpled grocery bags. Thud and rasp and ephemera. As thunderstorms subside, as the Devil's vigilance to the slaughter of joys. You must be frightened by this inwardness. Children, listen to a bedtime story unraveled in this rainy day. Imagine a rocking chair silhouetted against the fireplace, against souls thrust and battered. Imagine a soliloquy in eternal thread. A tale in stitches: measured to scare, woven to beguile, torn again to last. The moment the sun grins with his obstinate rays will I crush the remaining petals, surviving shadows of Cirilo and Sylvia. Phantoms might hoard from me, little souls might trick me into hide and seek. The gods might punish with oblivion's beauty. Here come menacing fingers watched by fog and the creaking of chaos. The question of flowers is one of endless love. Suffer. Ooze with exclamations. To baptize the unborn. [03 May 2020]