"How could I live
without metaphors?

To call things by their names,
not to drown in longings,
not to color them,
to make shapes less painful?"^

><<><
this quest, this verse curses
my drifting senses. now all attentions,
the outlined shapes that haunt, daunt,
lacking ****** substance,
just wafers and wines symbolic,
to defer away the many pointy fingers,
hands of nothing but forefingers
aiming exactly at  our temple's
temple
stating most factually,

J'accuse

shadows are metaphors,
images meta-stasizing
into what ever

you believe,
what
you think you meta~need to see,
in the dark late of the light of our soul's night,
so you right of,
you write of
seasonal changes,
hardly illusory,
failing to note, that when you wrote:

How could I live without metaphors?

the answer metaphorical+historical,
for the question is only
rhetorical

for you know~knew

that once we know the name to everything,
we will no longer want them,
but only to write of them in
idealized metaphors
so we can sleep~dream on,
perchance
while the
restoration of the imagination
is our brain sourcing
new things
that seek, crave,
to satisfy our urgent needs

to describe, define, our every fractional moment

upon reading your poem
Tremor^

and this what I think:
when reading your seamless
writing connecting of moments
of immortality,

only one question remains,
why, does our own writing
not approach the level of your exquisite precision
soul's *******?

is it our
own immorality
that permits our soon-to-be-
discontinued pretenses,
wherein, whereby,
we can still believe
our own words should be
deservedly disowned,
disinherited to the
scrap heap heated,
burned, eradicated
and
why do we even try?

sigh
>.<
dare not read it twice,
lest my inked fingertips
surrender to my
indecent indecision

Metaphysical meaning of Lod
Lod, lod (Hebrew)--
division; conception; emanation; pregnancy; travail; nativity; birth; contest; cleavage; fissure; strife.

A city of Benjamin (I Chron. 8:12). Its Greek name was Lydda. In the New Testament it is called Lydda.

Meta.
The breaking up of an old group of thoughts, or thought habit in consciousness, that a renewal of the mind may be accomplished. In other words, the effort that the seemingly human mind expends in bringing forth new and higher ideas, or the strife and contention that attend the breaking up of error that Truth may be brought to birth and take precedence
(division, conception, strife, travail, birth; a city of Benjamin)
<>><
how would-could you know that my Hebraic background,
gave me a specialist insight into your writings,
in any language you employ
each and every trait.
in a potpourri scented and secretly elixered

division, conception, strife, travail, birth, travail
fissure, contest, nativity and birth

a potion powerful that needs to take
the moments of anyone's life
and bring to it, to them,
scope, recognitions, inside light,
for all conception
is precessed
by de~visions of,
strife, travail, birth,
for us all, even those,
who hail not from Lods {z}

there is much mystical here,
even magical emanations that occur in seconds,

how does one concept~conscript them,
to take, remake, mold them
both new and old simultaneously,
is a quality super
so truly human

so Agnes, write to us, write for us,
in any language of your preference,
for the it is the
captured content of those exquisite seconds,
that is all that matters,
and be of good cheer,
for your are
*well received

Agnes de Lods.writes:

"Writing turns our thoughts inside out.
We cut and suddenly join words to touch the essence of both human and non-human existence. I  allow myself not to be too sure
whether what I write is a record of what I have seen,
of my falls, or maybe a hallucination,
trying to wear the veil of mysticism.
I am only following the crumbs left by the undefined"

<AoL>

PREFACE

Perhaps it's me,
perhaps it's you.
but I trip over the inspired insights you so oft
slip in, share, and guilty feel
you have commissioned me to write
a poem for everyone
but especially,
for the poets here,
who peer, preen
and pepper their
inside innards
to find,

"the undefined"

<>

I know well these crumbs,
that once,
tasted
demand a full on British Baking
real life escaping escapade of a unque episode

god how I love the poetry of a glance askance,
the invisible invitation to take a closer look,
the hither in-a-come-closer

god how i love the well hidden but tracing whiff of a smile,
of an 8 year old when she's gifted an
unexpected delight, a simple bracelet,
which alway says please, little one, always,
remember me?

the pretense of irritation of an phony whiny
'I know, I know'
just for her, a savory masking
of the pleasured knowledge that you know her,
so well, of what she'll next speak.
just as well,
hell! even better,
before she knows herself

the shock of a particular poem
when first read, is a stone to temple,
a knife to the breast,
for the only first thought
forever, is my guilty plea of
"I should have written that!"

Need I go on?

perhaps one more,

the very first time you accidentally intentionally
touch each other's skin, hair or breast,
and the shock equivalent is of an electric chair
shared,
that requires stoppage of breathing, allowing for the full on
desire to fall to the ground,
thinking I'm found, I'm found out, I'm revealed, unveiled,
that comes out
of your eyes silently beseeching
if anything could ever be better,
than a joy undefinable.
and a memory memorized forever,
that defines,
that makes one fine,
that comes crossed off that secret list,
one more of the
undefined
of being alive
and changes you
for the entirety, and
the subtlest shade meanings of the phrase.
just
for the
rest
of your life
is immortalized
<>

now, here. I cease.
quite pleased,
that I do indeed!
remember;
begin again to recall
how to breathe
out, then in…
and then,
tho still off kilter,
                                          again,  and a gain
                                                            ­                           <nml>

7:58am Tuesday Sep 9 Twenty 25

~
June 2025
HP Poet: Agnes de Lods
Age: 47
Country: Poland


Question 1: We warmly welcome you to the HP Spotlight, Agnes. Please tell us about your background?

Agnes de Lods: "My name is Agnes (Agnieszka), and I come from Poland. I grew up in the countryside, in a family rooted in rural and small-town traditions. My mother is a very intuitive person, and my father was always standing in the last row, quietly helping others, especially people with disabilities.

My parents gave me two ways of perception: seeing with the heart and with the mind. They didn’t have higher education, but our home was full of music, books, radio talks, and documentaries that showed the world in many dimensions. They helped me see that reality is full of tension and harmony, depending on what we pay attention to.

They gave me space to speak in my own voice. Growing up close to nature, I spent time observing, listening to the rhythm of the seasons. I learned humility, compassion, and what it means to face hard work and failure."


Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

Agnes de Lods: "In Polish, I’ve been writing for four years. In English, two or three. But in a way, I had been preparing for it all my life by writing, reading, and observing the world around me.

I started sharing my reflections on Hello Poetry in December, just a few months ago. For the first time, I felt ready to express everything I had kept inside for years."


Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

Agnes de Lods: "People. I love people. Every single person has a story. Sometimes strangers stop me in the street and start talking. I guess they want to be heard, and I love to listen.

Nature inspires me. And my dreams, too. Some of them come true, others do not. Still waiting for those lottery numbers to show up in a dream.

Books are also a huge source, just like music and art in all their forms. I am inspired by Karolina Halatek and Hania Rani, Marc Witmann, Umo Vide, Dror Elimelech, and Patricia Suarez (Colombian poet and painter), and many others."


Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Agnes de Lods: "Poetry is exceptional on every level. Metaphors express the unspeakable and have real power. They change the frequency of thought.

Poetry heals, invites contemplation, and opens doors to the many layers of human nature.

To me, poetry is sound, color, scent, even taste."


Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Agnes de Lods: "Sylvia Plath, Alejandra Pizarnik, Wisława Szymborska, Adam Zagajewski, Czesław Miłosz, Jorge Luis Borges, Pablo Neruda, Federico García Lorca, and many more.

I also read poems on Hello Poetry, and I am so glad to see many truly talented writers here. It means this world still has a chance."


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Agnes de Lods: "I am fascinated by psychology and archetypes. I read Jung with deep interest.

I love sci-fi, deep conversations, walks in the forest, and learning new languages. But more than anything, I care about human connection and understanding.

I like to dance and play the piano, though I have not had much time for that lately. And I love connecting the dots."


Carlo C. Gomez: “We would like to thank you Agnes, we really appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! It is our pleasure to include you in this Spotlight series!”

Agnes de Lods: "Thank you so much for letting me share my story. I am so glad to be part of this community of sensitive souls. I feel good here."




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Agnes a little bit better. We certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez

We will post Spotlight #29 in July!

~