| = cheating Time | Maria Schuler [01.Jan.05 19:36] |
| The images are exceptional, especially the ones from the first stanza which creat a wonderful visual and also tactile antithesis between "heat" and "coldness", while the whole poem is an antithesis between life and death. Throughout this piece I was able to find all kinds of images! Quite impressive how the yell to Odin, the nordic supreme god, suggests the iciness of the realm of death. I'd give you a star, but I don't have the "qualifications" to do so, still I'll keep the "why give a star"s till I actually have one to give. Maria | |
| = I am not exactly mad | Fayonara Ahbarn [04.Jan.05 21:41] |
| Dearest Maria, I thank you kindly for your words but I feel I must clarify some aspects. First, I am not the "author" of these poems (or whatever they might be called). I am not even the eyes that see the images. I have no idea who writes them but I am only the "antenna" that picks them up, "translates" them, and puts them on paper. In Romanian, we sort of call this "dicteu automat" or something. This particular poem was really NOT coming from me. I saw a piece of paper on which my boyfriend had written the name of a programme all gamers know, namely Cheating Death. It's used for Counter Strike or something. I saw it and... the "transmission" started. It's the same with the rest. That's why I must accept your compliments on behalf of somebody or something else. Secondly, the yell to Odin is not exacly an yell... it's more like a breathless whisper. My "voices" never yell! :) And thirdly, I truly am in the business of cheating Time. By running/ outrunning it, to be more precise. It works! :) Thank you again for taking your time to read! | |
| = delirium | Maria Schuler [08.Jan.05 13:51] |
| I understand toward what you are refering-letting your subconscience do the art work is what some call "katharsys", a way of eliberation of the deepset darkest corners of the human mind and spirit. I am sad to say that lately I have neglected this function of art and have become corrupted into creating for others, creating to transced truth toward others, creating to cast out a predetermined message, and thus forgeting that "experience" itself casts out-transceds-the purest message of all: life. Oh well, I guess recognition is the first step toward healing. I congratulate you for still being able to "feel" your poems, to fall into the "magicall trance" most call "creating poetry". | |