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Nat Lipstadt Sep 18
semiotics ~ relating to signs and symbols

"playful semiotics that makes this digital (poem) feel
weirdly tender
"^
(W.A. Gibson)

dear friend,
will always take tender
even weirdly, perhaps especially,
when so rendered,
and so sweetly tendered

but here's the rub,
try the onomatopoeia of
tender

say it slow
the tongue reaches up to touch the roof of the mouth,
twice,
ending in an  smoothly soft exhaling,
(go ahead, divert, try it, then return)
here,
but I do not search for a semiotic,
for there can be none,
(and there is indeed, none)
plain or weirdly,
that captures the incredible elegance
this royalty of word,
so nuanced,
so wildly variegated,
a thousand shades of existential coloration,
far exceeding the rainbow's basic monochromatic monoply,

but I know my.reader,
many of whom at this exact moment
(are taking a pausal break)
are taking forefinger to stroke a sleeping cheek,
a hand to rub and trace a comforting
reassurance to a distempered child,

so I need not supply even one more,
or than to mention in passing
my tenderest adoration to
all of you
who foolishly read my dabbling,
and within them find
nuggets I did not even contemplate,
and bring me,
eyes wetted.
to this moment,
(9:00am Thu Sep 18),

yes, eyes wet,
this silly old man,
whose heart may be yet healed,
with
the
weirdly wildly
tenderest of
gratitude
        

                                                      ­                nml
William A. Gibson
strikes again!

^
William A Gibson › Following up on an anonymous 'like' (1)
The emoji-as-glyph riff (“a colored 💙 or collared”) is playful semiotics that makes this digital feel weirdly tender.
Nat Lipstadt Sep 12
Mr. Gibson penetrates my poem, my paining senses,
"When raw grief turns into aching music" by witch,
he notates my inundation (1), a summary succinct,
essencing my poem to its bare ***** cri de cœur,
it's comforting to be gotten, grasped, felt & taken,
for ten out of nine, times, when I compose there
is music aching in my muscles and in my perused
words, begging to be read in a thorough, careful way,
and he honors them thusly, and I am deeply touched,
at our conjuring conjunction of connection, a phrase
worthy of a poem in and of itself, but
let someone else,
perhaps him, perhaps you, write it, I am contented:

to be heard,
to be believed,
to be by, relieved,
to being understood
to be felt, given and +
taken, and given a great
musical measure of comforting…

in summary too,
here is where
,
I thank you.



nml
9/12/25
5:15am
Heidi Franke Dec 2024
Once, you leave again
Are my wounds bigger than me
An outline contains
Poet Laureate from Colorado, Andrea Gibson, writes, I've been dancing in the end zone
Since you taught me to start breaking
Every promise I have made to my pain, taught me my wounds
Will never be bigger than I am.
Thank goodness for you
(From book, You Better Be Lightning)

My wounds still feel bigger than my self many times. If I outline them, perhaps I can contain them.
Allison Wonder Nov 2019
Beautiful how you're glistening
Beautiful my mahogany
I love the way you sound to me
I love the way you make me free

Smooth on top I start to groove
Smooth on top your maple wood
Sounds that always make me move
Sounds just like my childhood

Smells like amps and old gear
Smell the old speakers where I am near
Tastes like *** and cheap old beer
Tastes like celebrating on New Year

Ode to you my lovely guitar
Ode to you from near, never afar
I love you when you barre
I love you even if you scar

— The End —