you pull on my spooled words,
knitting yourself sweaters & scarves
to keep yourself warm
when the birds decide to
nest south, taking with it
y/our songs of summer.
i hide parts of myself on my chest,
akin to stained-glass mosaics,
you pluck the fragments
that you find the shiniest,
that glimmers in
september’s dwindling sunlight,
keeping in tucked away in
your vault of memorabilia.
i wasn’t your personal reservoir,
something incongruous in your
arid soils, to water your roots
to coax the flower within you
to blossom at my expense.
You have such a beautiful way with words, Mark. I've probably said that a thousand times, but I am not one bit sorry. Every time I read something new from you it takes my breath away and fills my soul with a sense of understanding and empathy. Your style seems to have/be changing (I've also been away for a while now, so it could just be me), but it still feels very you and I absolutely love it.
I know that you wrote this over a month ago, but with it being my first read, I feel as though I cannot pick it apart and comment accordingly. It feels very fresh and raw. I just needed you to know that it's beautiful. <3
I've no words to describe this poem for if anything
I say will sound silly compared to how the others have
commented. I'm trying to catch up on my commenting
and reading this makes me want to read more!
Excellent write with vivid images so beautifully inter woven!
The title made me think of constellations but apparently it's more straightforward than that and that's what the dipping tool for honey is called. We learn something new everyday huh.
The first couple of stanzas showcase how good you are at intertwining beautiful concrete images with abstract ones. The words you use are poetic and manipulated in such a way that you don't just rely on them for your poetry to sound pretty. And I'm sure these images represent deeper and more personal meaning to you.
Now I have to say, towards the middle leading up to the final lines, I notice a hint of sarcasm. Maybe it's just me haha but I quite like it. This piece reminds me of when we're angry at someone but that person's also someone we love dearly.
"keeping in tucked away in / your vault of memorabilia." This part sounds odd to me. Did you mean to write: keeping "it"...? Also, I'm unfamiliar with "lustita's scale" so I looked it up but I still can't make sense of it.
Other than those, this was a pleasure to read. You have an eloquent way of allowing your readers to see the world through your eyes, and it becomes far more beautiful.