Oh, I'm extremely grounded nowadays! It's more like a reality that I used to live that I'm happy to have grown away from. 😊 Thank you for thinking of it in a sincere way.
I just thought it was marvelous how so many different perspectives can be seen through this piece. That's how you know it really 'shouts' to the individual in a very visual format.
While I was reading your poem, I kept wondering whether you were describing a heart attack (I have a vivid imagination—what can I do? ;)). I really loved the rhythm created by the repetition of certain words, and the imagery.
You have a great and wonderful imagination Phoeby!
That wasn’t quite the direction I was taking as the words felt they wanted to stay away from medical emergencies, but the language as definiting drifting that way with the pressure and the pumping.
I love you felt the pulse under the skin with the piece.
This felt relentless in the best way. You don’t just read it, you feel the room, the pulse, the pressure building until the body itself becomes the line, the snap, the split. The staccato rhythm, the fractured spacing, even the tiny pauses make the sound almost physical, almost unbearable, until you’re collapsing into it.
I love how it moves from external sensation: air, light, walls- into the internal, the way the beat becomes a vessel for the self breaking open. It’s intimate, raw, and unflinching. This is the kind of writing that doesn’t let you stand on the outside; it pulls you into the throb and doesn’t let go.
Ah, Mark, if I didn’t emerge from that piece with a few extra heartbeats and a mild existential wobble, I’d say you hadn’t done your job. 😏
It’s rare that rhythm, space, and pulse conspire to crack open the reader’s own body like this. Thank you for letting me stumble, collapse, and rise again inside it. I feel honored (and slightly throbbed-out) to have been invited.
Challenge accepted. I just spent three minutes tangling my tongue around “gnilbbow droW laitsexist a rof detivni yllaer ma I,” and I think I briefly achieved a small personal singularity. 😏 I’ll take that wobble invitation anytime, Mark, just warn me if there’s a speed round.
I think it’s beautiful how you build the tension toward the end of the poem. For me, it felt like someone at the gym, pushing past their own limits, or like someone trapped in an avalanche—which I understand can feel like being encased in concrete (so heartbreaking that in recent days several people have met their end this way). Yet in your poem, there is liberation—a release that feels not only physical, but deeply inner, a freeing of the spirit as much as the body.
Thank you so much for your wonderful reading of this Be.
I love that the piece gave you such visceral images. I can really see where the images it in to the piece.
I’m also really pleased you felt the realease from the body at the end, as that was important to the piece, that there wasn’t just compresion but also a release and freeing from the body.
Thank you for sharing @mirage 😊
My pleasure 😊 it has an alluring flow.
🤗
This really reminded me of being in the hospital. The amount of times of feeling my pulse heart beats, and dripping.
That's just what came to mind for me. Thank you for the strong imagery! I loved how this spoke to me. ❤️
Wow. Thank you for sharing and hoping the experience wasn’t too much of a painful flashback.
Whilst the piece wasn’t medically focused, there are definitely some elements that pull in that direction, with the lights, pulse, and pumping.
Thank you!
Oh, I'm extremely grounded nowadays! It's more like a reality that I used to live that I'm happy to have grown away from. 😊 Thank you for thinking of it in a sincere way.
I just thought it was marvelous how so many different perspectives can be seen through this piece. That's how you know it really 'shouts' to the individual in a very visual format.
At least that's how I feel!
Wonderful and you’re completely right. I love writing pieces that everyone steps into differently. 😊
That shows your creativity! ❤️
While I was reading your poem, I kept wondering whether you were describing a heart attack (I have a vivid imagination—what can I do? ;)). I really loved the rhythm created by the repetition of certain words, and the imagery.
You have a great and wonderful imagination Phoeby!
That wasn’t quite the direction I was taking as the words felt they wanted to stay away from medical emergencies, but the language as definiting drifting that way with the pressure and the pumping.
I love you felt the pulse under the skin with the piece.
Thank you for sharing 💛
This poem feels like being dropped straight into a body that’s hitting its limit, every sense tightening at once.
The broken lines mimic the way intensity chops your thoughts into pieces.
I love how the poem turns physical sensations into a whole environment heat, hum, pressure all closing in.
The “pump pump pump” lands like a heartbeat you can’t outrun.
There’s this tension between staying still and feeling everything rise too fast inside you.
Sound becomes weight, light becomes heat, and suddenly the whole room feels alive in a way you can’t control.
It captures that moment when everything narrows to a single point, like the world shrinking into your pulse.
The “thin white bright snap” hits like a flash sharp, sudden, almost cleansing.
And “i split open” feels less like breaking and more like something finally giving way.
It’s a raw, sensory moment where the body takes over and thought disappears.
This felt relentless in the best way. You don’t just read it, you feel the room, the pulse, the pressure building until the body itself becomes the line, the snap, the split. The staccato rhythm, the fractured spacing, even the tiny pauses make the sound almost physical, almost unbearable, until you’re collapsing into it.
I love how it moves from external sensation: air, light, walls- into the internal, the way the beat becomes a vessel for the self breaking open. It’s intimate, raw, and unflinching. This is the kind of writing that doesn’t let you stand on the outside; it pulls you into the throb and doesn’t let go.
Dipti!
It feels like you stepped into the piece itself and felt every movement, pulse and beat.
The structure and rhythm felt necessary for that immersion, with every step in the descent adding to the immersion and presence.
That step from external to internal was a key hinge in the piece to avoid it becoming purely environmental.
I love you brought in raw and intimate into this too — when I was writing, this felt like something close, and even under the skin.
A wonderful reading.
Thank you 😊
Ah, Mark, if I didn’t emerge from that piece with a few extra heartbeats and a mild existential wobble, I’d say you hadn’t done your job. 😏
It’s rare that rhythm, space, and pulse conspire to crack open the reader’s own body like this. Thank you for letting me stumble, collapse, and rise again inside it. I feel honored (and slightly throbbed-out) to have been invited.
Hehe!
I was may lucky this time.
My wobble-omoter was out of order last night, and maybe broken from too much existential wobbling of late.
You’re always invited for a little existential word wobbling with me!
But only if you can say that backwards 10 times and quickly 🤗
Challenge accepted. I just spent three minutes tangling my tongue around “gnilbbow droW laitsexist a rof detivni yllaer ma I,” and I think I briefly achieved a small personal singularity. 😏 I’ll take that wobble invitation anytime, Mark, just warn me if there’s a speed round.
Haha!
I felt the wobble from here all the way across the pond!
I think it’s beautiful how you build the tension toward the end of the poem. For me, it felt like someone at the gym, pushing past their own limits, or like someone trapped in an avalanche—which I understand can feel like being encased in concrete (so heartbreaking that in recent days several people have met their end this way). Yet in your poem, there is liberation—a release that feels not only physical, but deeply inner, a freeing of the spirit as much as the body.
Thank you so much for your wonderful reading of this Be.
I love that the piece gave you such visceral images. I can really see where the images it in to the piece.
I’m also really pleased you felt the realease from the body at the end, as that was important to the piece, that there wasn’t just compresion but also a release and freeing from the body.
Thank you! 😊
My pleasure, Mark, your poems always intrigue.
🤗 🤗 🤗
A lovely reversal Lintara! Thank you 😊
I can completely understand 😊
Compression was the intent with the wording and that may affect some people somatically more than others.
The regulation part I fully take on and I can feel the breath after
Thank you for sitting with it, even though it had that effect.😊