A little hard to follow, which makes it very intriguing. I like it. Keep up the good work!

you have such a perfect way of phrasing things "in thin veins of flesh up the trellis of trees"... beautiful and much much better for being cryptic and open to interpretation (y)(y)(y)

Hmm... I read this and i have to say you're right i don't know what you mean, but i think you do care or you wouldn't have brought it up... Because noone on this planet is supposed to exactly know what someone else means in their works, that would be incredibly boring.

oh my god, i don't want to destroy this by some silly commentary. just incredible. it shoudl be in a book.

this is pretty...you're right, i don't know what you mean, but i still like it... : )

Beautiful

The imagery is beautiful. This poem is so mysterious and dark...very well done.

Love the first stanza. Seriously. It is absolutely amazing to find an original description of a sunrise these days. Not simply because most people aren't good writers, but because it's been used so many times! To write something about one that is still unique and incredibly inspiring is -awesome-. Second stanza is also lovely, but the "and the paint begins to seep /in thin veins of flesh up the trellis of trees" loses me. I think I get the rest, but, as you said, I'm sure you didn't write it simply so I could interpret. I loved how you drug out creeping, though. It forced the pace to slow down, just like the movement does in reality. Anyways... GREAT work. I love it.

Hmm ... I love to unriddle difficult poems, but I'm afraid this is a bit too much for me ... Nevertheless I like it, it is very unusual and ingenious in its strange combination of images. The idea that floats in my mind when reading this is that of a woman sitting on the seashore and painting, perhaps thinking about former, bygone times and whales (they come in in the title and perhaps with the fat and handlamps - weren't whales killed in former times for their fat to be burned in oil lamps?); the fascination and awe or even fear of the untamed, unpredictable ocean seems to dominate in the last few lines, ebb and tide, perhaps reflecting the woman's life as well ... (this might be complete rubbish, but it is the image I get in my mind). :-)

The world is lightening with the break of day and she is going mad with the dawning of yet another murky day in her life...? This is what it seems to me. I may be way off-track. It's a magnificent piece of writing.

Reads like Dylan Thomas on shrooms. I mean that in a really really good way. Beautiful and visual, even if I DON'T totally get it... haha. Lovely.

i don't know what it means, but i think it's really beautiful either way.

very interesting, very unique poetry. i like this very much. ur writing style is curious to me.

I wish I could hear you read these poems aloud. This one is... silky. I love the line, "a thick sheave of fat/old india ink" It's original and doesn't make much sense, which makes me feel something without being able to understand what it is. That's the way good poetry is supposed to work.

I don't care if I do or do not know what you mean. After reading, it no longer makes a difference. I love this. I love the lack of capitals, every single word you used. Perfect. I have no words. And that never happens. Very well-written. I look forward to reading more of your work.