<br><br><center>*Let there be spaces in your togetherness* —Khalil Gibran</center> <br><br><center></center> <br><br><center>In our closeness There are infinities; <br>Gaps In our togetherness, Starry spaces And desert skies— And then A great chasm Greater than The Boötes void, With so few stars To break the darkness… And that’s where I reside.</center> <br><br><center>© 2019, John J Geddes. All rights reserved</center> <br><br><center>[Photo](https://images.app.goo.gl/Soca1fe4WGJ6QPyc8)</center> <br><br>
author | johnjgeddes |
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permlink | spaces |
category | poetry |
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When I read yor poems and I sense that some only indirectly refer to what it is all about, it makes me feel good when I know I have understood those images not painted, just lightly touched by a few lines and shadows. I just hope I am not filling them in with my own half-seen images. PS: Her Thirties - I've finished reading at 193...but it is not the end of the story. Have you posted it somewhere else or is the story meant to end this way - as a suggestion that it is meant to loop again?
author | arthur.grafo |
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permlink | pwe2xj |
category | poetry |
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I'll answer the last part first - The novel doesn't end abruptly - it seems the posting of all the chapters got interrupted for some reason - I did a quick fix on my website so you can finish the novel and I will put them into better sequence over the next few days - there are 112 chapters - only posted 103 for some reason but now they're all there in rough form. Sorry...I have no idea what distracted me from completing the final chapter posting at the time. Mea culpa. Re the poetry - you're referring to the power of allusion and suggestion. Yes, that's deliberate on my part - it's part of the aesthetic of ambiguity = the verisimilitude, that is, the 'realness' of what is deeply felt that lies beyond the power of words to capture or fully explain. When something is deeply felt, paradoxically, there are no words that suffice. You don't get beautifully embroidered lines and intricate rhymes when you're falling apart emotionally. Minimalism is best - leave space for the reader to make the experience his own - to personalize it. I want you to fill them in with your own half-seen images. I write one half of the poem and you write the other. You do the same when you read Her Thirties - you direct your own movie inside your head - you cast your own characters in the various roles and choose the scenery from your own experience. I wouldn't have it any other way :)
author | johnjgeddes |
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permlink | pweuh1 |
category | poetry |
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Thanks...going there now :)
author | arthur.grafo |
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permlink | pwfiuj |
category | poetry |
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Okay, I have finished the story. When Amber pulled him to safety but left Marilyn where she was, exposed to danger, I did wonder. Knowing the history made sense of it. Rather than make comments about the story (after all, I read it all and you know I found it well written), I thought it is time I do something else. John, thank you very much for sharing your stories for free (being a pensioner, I would not have been able to read them otherwise). I will continue to read from steemit and at your site and probably also continue to make some nice or interesting comments, plus a few that sound like I am trying to be a smartass (I usually think of them that way later on, when I am writing them I am being earnest). I think of your writing as being you opening doors into your private world where I slowly come to get a feel for you as a person. I find from my own writing that I cannot avoid showing myself to those who are open enough and want to know, so I give the same meaning to your writing. You are very much appreciated.
author | arthur.grafo |
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permlink | pwfn92 |
category | poetry |
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