First attempt at posting

[marc]

WHISPERS FROM GALAXIES BEYOND GALAXIES




Whispers . . . voices that carry the essence
and unseen curve of galactic ether
and wind kissed trees
of future revelations . . .
meditations that dance swirling without fear,
dreamlike,
sailing rapidly through spiritual worm holes
toward the clarification of beautiful horizons never imagined.

Oh would that we could breathe
with highly evolved lungs
past the disturbing doorway
that holds our present state of consciousness
like a manipulated dark mandala,
unable to break free,
unwilling to allow a river of light
to flow outward from the until now
encrusted banks of the heart.

Slowly, slowly . . .
but with a miracle of stars as our guide,
we must begin to hear the ancient secret choir
that has always been there.
This spinning cycle of life and death
will in time dissolve,
becoming only the roots,
the sumptuous nutrition
that manifests in possibilities of a stillness,
a gift that opens the mind
to an unlimited understanding of Creation’s
manifold magnificence.

The universe is an echoing womb
that has given birth to god held lanterns,
to the ignored visionary hymns
that herald the ignition,
the warmth of a trillion candles
that will eventually draw us in to the radiance
of a divine and generous compassion
that rises in waves of a limitless circular release.
Listen, oh listen . . .
the harp player of the heavens
is restringing his instrument,
his fingers are the elements that give causation
for our sentient existence.
Harken to the godmother and her luxurious lullaby,
she quietly murmurs intonations
from the farthest reaches of the all inclusive.
May our ears in time develop
the amplification necessary to hear
their cryptic and benevolent message.

[Wildcard]

Hi Marc,
   It's good to see you posting. I enjoyed your poem a lot and then when I quoted your post I could see from the quote that you had formatted your text with multiple indentions. As you have already discovered, simply inserting spaces doesn't work.
   To format the indentions in your poem, you will need to use MyCode, the style language of the forum. The code for spacing indentions like in these two paragraphs would look like this:

Code:

Hi Marc,
[sp] [sp] [sp] blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
[sp] [sp] [sp] blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

For more info on the MyBB functions, you can look here:

Post Tags

or for a more complete list:

MyBB Basics

Either way, I am a newbie, but I like to try to do crit because there is a possibility I could be helpful . . . maybe

WHISPERS FROM GALAXIES BEYOND GALAXIES

Whispers . . . voices that carry the essence I like both the title and the opening line, but 'whispers' in both IMO is overkill. You might want to think about rephrasing the title.
and unseen curve of galactic ether
and wind kissed trees
of future revelations . . .
meditations that dance swirling without fear,
dreamlike,
sailing rapidly through spiritual worm holes
toward the clarification of beautiful horizons never imagined.

Oh would that we could breathe
with highly evolved lungs
past the disturbing doorway
that holds our present state of consciousness
like a manipulated dark mandala,
unable to break free,
unwilling to allow a river of light
to flow outward from the until now
encrusted banks of the heart.

Slowly, slowly . . .
but with a miracle of stars as our guide,
we must begin to hear the ancient secret choir
that has always been there.
This spinning cycle of life and death
will in time dissolve,
becoming only the roots,
the sumptuous nutrition
that manifests in possibilities of a stillness, great line. a very fresh way to express the longing for peace
a gift that opens the mind
to an unlimited understanding of Creation’s
manifold magnificence.

The universe is an echoing womb
that has given birth to god held lanterns,
to the ignored visionary hymns
that herald the ignition,
the warmth of a trillion candles I think a definite number may hurt the ambiguity of the piece, maybe just some for of 'a bunch of' though, obviously not that
that will eventually draw us in to the radiance
of a divine and generous compassion
that rises in waves of a limitless circular release.
Listen, oh listen . . .
the harp player of the heavens
is restringing his instrument,
his fingers are the elements that give causation
for our sentient existence.
Harken to the godmother and her luxurious lullaby,
she quietly murmurs intonations
from the farthest reaches of the all inclusive.
May our ears in time develop
the amplification necessary to hear
their cryptic and benevolent message. Smooth ending IMO. If I had a nit, it would be the last line. Maybe replace 'and' with yet or maybe even just a comma.

   On the whole, I think you've done a great job conveying a real emotional response to life and the 'essense of being.' Thanks for sharing. I hope to see a lot more of your work.

[marc]

Thank you for reading and responding in such a formatable way. I will have to look closely at the formating procedure, probably on the morrow. I found your suggestions regarding the piece both interesting and valuable and may make some minor changes.

peace,
Marc

[Wildcard]

You're welcome. Billy added an indent tag: Custom Titles that makes everything easier. See you around.

[billy]

and indent tag isn't the same as custom titles

[billy]

WHISPERS FROM GALAXIES BEYOND GALAXIES

Whispers . . . voices that carry the essence
[ind] [ind] and unseen curve of galactic ether
[ind] and wind kissed trees sounds good but doesn't fit with the title
[ind] [ind] [ind] [ind] of future revelations . . .
[ind] meditations that dance swirling without fear,
[ind] [ind] [ind] [ind] [ind] [ind] [ind] [ind] dreamlike,
sailing rapidly through spiritual worm holes
toward the clarification of beautiful horizons is beautiful needed?
never imagined.

Oh would that we could breathe this is a common phrase (o that we could)
with highly evolved lungs
past the disturbing doorway
that holds our present state of consciousness
like a manipulated dark mandala,
unable to break free,
unwilling to allow a river of light
to flow outward from the until now
encrusted banks of the heart.

Slowly, slowly . . .
but with a miracle of stars as our guide,
we must begin to hear the ancient secret choir
that has always been there.
This spinning cycle of life and death
will in time dissolve,
becoming only the roots,
the sumptuous nutrition
that manifests in possibilities of a stillness,
a gift that opens the mind
to an unlimited understanding of Creation’s
manifold magnificence.

The universe is an echoing womb i like this line
that has given birth to god held lanterns,
to the ignored visionary hymns
that herald the ignition,
the warmth of a trillion candles
that will eventually draw us in to the radiance
of a divine and generous compassion
that rises in waves of a limitless circular release.
Listen, oh listen . . .
the harp player of the heavens
is restringing his instrument,
his fingers are the elements that give causation
for our sentient existence.
Harken to the godmother and her luxurious lullaby,
she quietly murmurs intonations
from the farthest reaches of the all inclusive.
May our ears in time develop
the amplification necessary to hear
their cryptic and benevolent message.ed lungs
past the disturbing doorway
that holds our present state of consciousness
like a manipulated dark mandala,
unable to break free,
unwilling to allow a river of light
to flow outward from the until now
encrusted banks of the heart.

Slowly, slowly . . .
but with a miracle of stars as our guide,
we must begin to hear the ancient secret choir
that has always been there.
This spinning cycle of life and death
will in time dissolve,
becoming only the roots,
the sumptuous nutrition
that manifests in possibilities of a stillness,
a gift that opens the mind
to an unlimited understanding of Creation’s
manifold magnificence.

The universe is an echoing womb
that has given birth to god held lanterns,
to the ignored visionary hymns
that herald the ignition,
the warmth of a trillion candles
that will eventually draw us in to the radiance
of a divine and generous compassion
that rises in waves of a limitless circular release.
Listen, oh listen . . .
the harp player of the heavens
is restringing his instrument,
his fingers are the elements that give causation
for our sentient existence.
Harken to the godmother and her luxurious lullaby,
she quietly murmurs intonations
from the farthest reaches of the all inclusive.
May our ears in time develop
the amplification necessary to hear
their cryptic and benevolent message.

---

hopefully you can format the poem as you want now marc

---

i enjoyed the read marc though i think you need some concrete images
try and use an image to show us, at present you're reciting what you know.

telling us is "the horizon was bright"
using an image, the horizon, exploded eyeballs"

okay it's not great but hope you can see what i mean.
how was it bright
how was it beautiful
how was it great etc,

it shone like a lighthouse
it was beautiful, as a raindrops kiss in summer.
a Mona Lisa smile across the canvass of a universe.

thanks for the read

[Wildcard]

oops

[Ca ne fait rien]

Hi, I am quite new here myself and I hope you enjoy the site as much as I am doing.

WHISPERS FROM GALAXIES BEYOND GALAXIES




Whispers . . . voices that carry the essence
and unseen curve of galactic ether
and wind kissed trees
of future revelations . . . Do you really need the ellipses?
meditations that dance swirling without fear,
dreamlike,
sailing rapidly through spiritual worm holes
toward the clarification of beautiful horizons 'beautiful' to my mind detracts from the power here never imagined.

Oh would that we could breathe
with highly evolved lungs
past the disturbing doorway
that holds our present state of consciousness
like a manipulated dark mandala,
unable to break free,
unwilling to allow a river of light
to flow outward from the until now
encrusted banks of the heart.

Slowly, slowly . . .
but with a miracle of stars as our guide,
we must begin to hear the ancient secret choir
that has always been there.
This spinning cycle of life and death
will in time dissolve,
becoming only the roots,
the sumptuous nutrition
that manifests in possibilities of a stillness,
a gift that opens the mind
to an unlimited understanding of Creation’s
manifold magnificence.

The universe is an echoing womb
that has given birth to god held lanterns,
to the ignored visionary hymns
that herald the ignition,
the warmth of a trillion candles
that will eventually draw us in to the radiance
of a divine and generous compassion
that rises in waves of a limitless circular release.
Listen, oh listen . . .
the harp player of the heavens
is restringing his instrument,
his fingers are the elements that give causation
for our sentient existence.
Harken to the godmother and her luxurious lullaby,
she quietly murmurs intonations
from the farthest reaches of the all inclusive.
May our ears in time develop
the amplification necessary to hear
their cryptic and benevolent message.

This is a very lyrical poem that is trying to say a lot about the infinite, as poets forever try to do. If I were to give advice, I would say try to tighten it up a bit by losing some of the adjectives and substituting with verbs. This is advice I was give a long time ago when I thought that writing without loads of adjectives was not writing at all, but when I tried it, I was astounded at how saying less actually said a lot more. I know it is an abstract subject, but doing that will hitch it to something a bit more concrete, hopefully the reader's sense of wonder. You have achieved the breathtaking wonder you feel of the indescribable and conveyed it well. What is poetry for, if not to share the wonder the poet feels with the reader.
I look forward to reading more of your work.