I want to fight you about D'Artagnan pulling the flank. You had four apocalyptic afflictions riding out and then this musketeer strolls in ten years later like the poem grew a door where there wasn't one, and I don't know if it earns the wink or just enjoys it, and I keep going back and forth.
Asuka! Thanks so much for showing up, armed with a rapier and this observation. A good non sequitur can do the work of twelve honest men. (If that isn’t a proverb, shoot me.)
At such moments, you usually speak of the power of chaos. Has the Chaos Embassy finally closed its doors to you, my dearest friend? Say it isn’t so. 😥
I missed this! Feed not doing its job. So glad I stumbled on it this morning. Fascinating to see them side by side. It really gets under your skin - so beautiful and so confronting at the same time. Like reading a surreal fever dream. The second one feels like you are wrestling with a bigger picture, somehow. Love them both!
I’ve been posting a lot lately, so don’t expect anyone in particular to keep up with all of them.
I wish my entire life weren’t a surreal fever dream, where I keep coming back to old adversaries ten years later for another bout in the ring. There has to be something better to do with a Saturday.
This might be the most elaborate 'fuck you people' I've ever read :D I felt insulted and most things went over my head, but I liked that it was constructed well (craft!!) I still prefer when poems say something loud and clear, instead of revelling in ambiguity. It's just my personal taste.
😂 I’m fairly certain I actually did want to tell everyone to fuck off, while writing it. There was also something prancing around in my head about the Book of Revelation.
It’s definitely one of those associative kinds of poems. If there’s any method to the madness, it’s how each section is anchored in a state of mind being traversed by the narrator.
Thanks for sniffing out that little moment, MoTy. 😎
Even when being deliberately obscure, I have a bad habit of saying things very plainly. It’s a good thing so many readers have the good habit of not noticing, or else I’d really get myself into some trouble here.
reminds me of diving into a tom robbins novel - this intricate play of words chasing little mind squirrels down rabbit holes where they never meant to roam, yet burst from the other side of the world, having tunneled through in marvelous fashion all proud, nuts clutched triumphant. You are such an amazing talent, Rafa!
Every time I feel like I’ve lost all my old fans, a new one enters the scene. I’m not trying to lose them. Maybe the rabbit holes are to blame? Or maybe we truly are living in the end times?
I wish I could use my talent to create something that would actually change people’s lives for the better. Maybe I’m just being self-pitying today…
I guess I found version of PHOENIIX RISING age 31 in a roaring swirl of raging flame easier on the brain, therefore more congenial and which is the most the dreadfully finite agony of being can hope for until its innocent, thoughtful ignorance is once again trampled and temporarily extinguished by actuality's gigantic black demon who is constantantly copulating with one of its dazzled daffy pink wives as depicted on the tanka (Nepalese, I think--I"ll call a friend a who knew him in Manhattan before he died of excruciating alcoholic sadness, a beautiful and hopeful young man) hanging in semi-darkness as the foot of our house's increasingly painful winding flight of stairs.
Carry on and be strong, Rafa. It's the most we can do for each other. I picked up the note of hope from the previous commentator. Bad sleep is constant and epidemic.
I'm particularly glad you stumbled in for this one, as it feels tailor-made for you to riff upon. The black demon you speak of sounds quite reminiscent of "actuality's vibrantly stagnant brine," to quote a certain someone.
Bravo 👏
You’re so humble — if I could write like this I would’ve taken the whole world over with it by now 💯
The finest wine, Rafa 👌 🍷 well done!
Unfortunately, I can’t even take over Substack from the bots and AI writers. The machine that controls the world is the biggest, most well-oiled bot.
I’m truly delighted that you appreciate my work. 🥹
I want to fight you about D'Artagnan pulling the flank. You had four apocalyptic afflictions riding out and then this musketeer strolls in ten years later like the poem grew a door where there wasn't one, and I don't know if it earns the wink or just enjoys it, and I keep going back and forth.
Asuka! Thanks so much for showing up, armed with a rapier and this observation. A good non sequitur can do the work of twelve honest men. (If that isn’t a proverb, shoot me.)
At such moments, you usually speak of the power of chaos. Has the Chaos Embassy finally closed its doors to you, my dearest friend? Say it isn’t so. 😥
I missed this! Feed not doing its job. So glad I stumbled on it this morning. Fascinating to see them side by side. It really gets under your skin - so beautiful and so confronting at the same time. Like reading a surreal fever dream. The second one feels like you are wrestling with a bigger picture, somehow. Love them both!
Thanks so much, Jessie!
I’ve been posting a lot lately, so don’t expect anyone in particular to keep up with all of them.
I wish my entire life weren’t a surreal fever dream, where I keep coming back to old adversaries ten years later for another bout in the ring. There has to be something better to do with a Saturday.
This might be the most elaborate 'fuck you people' I've ever read :D I felt insulted and most things went over my head, but I liked that it was constructed well (craft!!) I still prefer when poems say something loud and clear, instead of revelling in ambiguity. It's just my personal taste.
😂 I’m fairly certain I actually did want to tell everyone to fuck off, while writing it. There was also something prancing around in my head about the Book of Revelation.
It’s definitely one of those associative kinds of poems. If there’s any method to the madness, it’s how each section is anchored in a state of mind being traversed by the narrator.
„poetry prostrate itself to tact” - mic drop. Excellent piece Rafa x
Thanks for sniffing out that little moment, MoTy. 😎
Even when being deliberately obscure, I have a bad habit of saying things very plainly. It’s a good thing so many readers have the good habit of not noticing, or else I’d really get myself into some trouble here.
reminds me of diving into a tom robbins novel - this intricate play of words chasing little mind squirrels down rabbit holes where they never meant to roam, yet burst from the other side of the world, having tunneled through in marvelous fashion all proud, nuts clutched triumphant. You are such an amazing talent, Rafa!
Thanks again for all of the support, Roger.
Every time I feel like I’ve lost all my old fans, a new one enters the scene. I’m not trying to lose them. Maybe the rabbit holes are to blame? Or maybe we truly are living in the end times?
I wish I could use my talent to create something that would actually change people’s lives for the better. Maybe I’m just being self-pitying today…
i feel enriched, reading you. 🫶
Sweet! Microdoses of purpose, on demand. 👍
Hauntingly beautiful
Thanks so much, Hina! Every day, the destruction of everything seems like it would be a slightly more beautiful occurrence.
🫶🏼
I guess I found version of PHOENIIX RISING age 31 in a roaring swirl of raging flame easier on the brain, therefore more congenial and which is the most the dreadfully finite agony of being can hope for until its innocent, thoughtful ignorance is once again trampled and temporarily extinguished by actuality's gigantic black demon who is constantantly copulating with one of its dazzled daffy pink wives as depicted on the tanka (Nepalese, I think--I"ll call a friend a who knew him in Manhattan before he died of excruciating alcoholic sadness, a beautiful and hopeful young man) hanging in semi-darkness as the foot of our house's increasingly painful winding flight of stairs.
Carry on and be strong, Rafa. It's the most we can do for each other. I picked up the note of hope from the previous commentator. Bad sleep is constant and epidemic.
Haha. I love thangka art, Kenneth!
I'm particularly glad you stumbled in for this one, as it feels tailor-made for you to riff upon. The black demon you speak of sounds quite reminiscent of "actuality's vibrantly stagnant brine," to quote a certain someone.
The contrast between chaos and hope is what stayed with me most. The “phoenix hatchling” feels fragile, resilient, and deeply human.
It boldly goes where AI has never gone before! Heh.
Yeap