The gentle homey dual images in the middle stanza surrounded by the tension, fear, and brute reality.
The gentle homey dual images in the middle stanza surrounded by the tension, fear, and brute reality.
Thanks, John. Your kind words are always appreciated
Tears like water cannons, speech like rubber bullets. Hits hard and stays. Much enjoyed, Carolyn.
Thank you so much, Paul. It means a lot
I tell it like it is. Can't do owt else, as I'm Yorkshire.
😊
🙏
ah, your language of diplomacy. In reality, until one *appears* to concede ... i think ? 🤔 😉
Thank you so much, William
very clever! 💔
Thank you, Ulrica 😊
It's very tricky subject, it's so huge - poems can spiral out forever. But think you've done a great job here, it feels so apt and true and now, especially as peace negotiations don't even involve the country that was invaded! Such strange times, you've show that so clearly here, excellent
Thank you so much for your very kind words, Peter 🙏💙
‘tears like water canons’ catches so much, the sting, the force, the inevitability. I love how you stage the fragility of peace in the quiet domestic gestures before the sky falls. #KeepWriting #PoemsAbout #Ceasefire
Thank you so much, Alan. It’s really appreciated
I'm all for the domestic take. Nice one!
Thank you so much 🙏
A very controlled capture of this all too familiar domestic nightmare. Great work, Carolyn.
Thank you, Sue - your kind words are always appreciated
Always welcome, Carolyn 💙
This is a most fascinating description of a domestic ceasefire… loved it! These seemingly innocent lines “One cooks their favourite meal; the other arranges flowers,…” describes the lull before the storm with perfection.
Thanks so much 😊 Delighted you enjoyed it
Absolutely! My pleasure!
💙💙💙
An uneasy peace held in domestic rituals, where diplomacy is as brittle as bone china. Ceasefire here is neither love nor resolution, just a pause in the choreography of ruin.
Thank you 🙏
This is so good, Carolyn! (I think I've missed yours recently.) I can imagine this domestic scene; each line so precise, the tension held so tightly until it bursts like those stars exploding. It's still angry, but it's controlled anger.
Thanks so much, Merril. Really appreciate it 🙏 I haven’t managed to get anything done for the last couple of weeks but back in harness now 😊
You're welcome, Carolyn. Sometimes I don't see all the responses, so I'm glad I didn't miss yours. 😊
A taut, compact, impactful account of the human condition in the key of conflict. Great work! 👏👏🪶💫
Thanks, Jan and for the repost 😊 You’re always so generous! Haven’t seen one from you today - have I missed it?
Most welcome! Yes, I have a dog in the race today. Longish poem about a Harz legend - with much invention, speculation from me. 😁 Image of a Wild Man & a witch! 😁
I’ll seek it out 😊 Wild men and witches do it for me 🤣
Yes, it's also about neighbours turning on each other. 😁
Like a modern martial take on the Wife of Bath’s talk of maistrie. Excellent Carolyn
Thank you so much, Paul, it means a lot 😊 - I’m chuckling at your delightful analogy 😆
You really managed to capture the fragility of this ephemeral state, the tension pulled through the lines until it eventually gives way for the cruelty that has merely been halted, a dam designed to break.
Thank you very much, Matthias 🙏
now this is a great poem. The use of alliteration in the first stanza was masterful but the fourth stanza with the repeat "this will" really hammered the horror home. I'm fan boying!!
Thanks so much, Dave 😊 I don’t think I’ve ever been fanboyed before but I’m charmed 😁
It was a struggle for me as well. Lots of rage without direction. Lots of ache at the thought of others and their unnecessary suffering
Yes, it’s really hard. Thank you so much for the repost 🙏
The near inevitability of the mutual destruction of a relationship is so vividly realised here
Thank you, David - much appreciated
This is the life we lead while it still matters, I fear. Good poem out of the angry bin, though.
Thank you, Paul