Thanks! This one sat in my drafts for a long time, and its moment finally came. It's a bit of a weird one, the way it juxtaposes two seemingly unrelated topics. But I can see myself doing this. Sitting by a fire, inviting you to come sit with me, and then just lamenting what it feels like to be me sometimes (a sensitive soul, for one thing) with no segue at all.
Yes, I can imagine you are well equipped to be familiar with that feeling of overstimulation. The idea of the poem came from me noticing that I can handle two audio inputs at once, to some extent (like talking over a song that's playing) but as soon as the third one starts (often a child), things get much much harder and I have to figure out how to calm myself very intentionally or shut off at least some of the inputs.
I get that. Lots of deep breaths at my house, as I often have several people talking to me at the same time, while the hood vent is blasting from something smokey and the audiobook I was foolishly try to sneak in needs to be paused once again.
Spontaneous consumption. Fireplace chat. Friends devour words as logs in fireplace. A joy to toast the holidays. Hope you have a wood pile . I am long winded after a drink of cheer.
Yes please. I have a pile of almond wood on the side of the house. Slow to start, but slow to burn out. Perhaps a nice Glenmorangie to balance the smoke, or a Lagavulin to complement it.
I’m a fall pheasant and game . If you gat any dry tumbleweed smash up some. High BTU’s for starter. Ashes good for compost or to put on snow so your don’t slip.
Thanks, C.J. This one's light on analysis. Just a brief, raw, even blurting account of what it feels like to be me sometimes. I'm glad it made you think.
Funny thing, the day before or maybe the same day - anyway before I saw your post I was feeling similarly and wrote something - it feels very vulnerable so I’m sitting with it for a bit trying to decide if I should share it here or not…. But if I do I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Again, so glad I listened to the audio! The short lines felt to me like the quick flickers of flames themselves—some short and others longer.
Thanks! This one sat in my drafts for a long time, and its moment finally came. It's a bit of a weird one, the way it juxtaposes two seemingly unrelated topics. But I can see myself doing this. Sitting by a fire, inviting you to come sit with me, and then just lamenting what it feels like to be me sometimes (a sensitive soul, for one thing) with no segue at all.
Oof. I feel this keenly:
"When I feel
the overwhelm
it comes
like three songs
in different tempos"
Yes, I can imagine you are well equipped to be familiar with that feeling of overstimulation. The idea of the poem came from me noticing that I can handle two audio inputs at once, to some extent (like talking over a song that's playing) but as soon as the third one starts (often a child), things get much much harder and I have to figure out how to calm myself very intentionally or shut off at least some of the inputs.
I get that. Lots of deep breaths at my house, as I often have several people talking to me at the same time, while the hood vent is blasting from something smokey and the audiobook I was foolishly try to sneak in needs to be paused once again.
These lines that Margaret Ann highlighted are so powerful. Really lovely poem, Mike.
Thank you, LeeAnn! I'm so glad you enjoyed it.
Spontaneous consumption. Fireplace chat. Friends devour words as logs in fireplace. A joy to toast the holidays. Hope you have a wood pile . I am long winded after a drink of cheer.
I'd sit with you and chat by the fire anytime, Richard. Thanks for your presence.
Mike, The flames burn fast if pine logs are used. . Best a Yule tide hefty oak trunk or iron wood. Bottle of Scotch . This could take a while.
Yes please. I have a pile of almond wood on the side of the house. Slow to start, but slow to burn out. Perhaps a nice Glenmorangie to balance the smoke, or a Lagavulin to complement it.
I’m a fall pheasant and game . If you gat any dry tumbleweed smash up some. High BTU’s for starter. Ashes good for compost or to put on snow so your don’t slip.
Love this Mike, so visceral!
Thanks, jennae! A bit of a short and blunt one after that lengthy sestina. It had been sitting in my drafts and I felt now was its time.
love the usage of lick & singe here!
Thanks, Mo! Sometimes the differences between pleasurable and painful experiences are just how we label them. Sometimes a little heat can be calming.
well put!
Just WOW!!!
Thank you for your beautiful response, wildflower! I am touched.
Viscous/blaring/simultaneously/flaring
Nice, Mike!!
Thanks for calling out what you noticed in my poem, Don! You are a treasured reader, and you know damn well that I mean that!
Hello Mike. I like this. You make me think.
Thanks, C.J. This one's light on analysis. Just a brief, raw, even blurting account of what it feels like to be me sometimes. I'm glad it made you think.
I’m all for that, Mike. Sometimes we are led to write about the raw parts of us for healing and understanding … you did well.
🔥☄️🐦🔥 I like it. I like it a lot. I feel it.
Thanks, Cynthia! It's nice to have you around.
Funny thing, the day before or maybe the same day - anyway before I saw your post I was feeling similarly and wrote something - it feels very vulnerable so I’m sitting with it for a bit trying to decide if I should share it here or not…. But if I do I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Yes that’s how overwhelm feels for me too…and this too shall pass..
Thank you, Grace, and you're quite right! Everything passes, doesn't it.
Love the poetics of this comment, Alma! Thank you!