Amadeusz, there is such a heavy, soot-stained gravity to your writing. It feels like you’ve reached back into the roots of Polish Romanticism—I can hear echoes of Mickiewicz and that raw, unblinking nerve of the Young Poland era in your lines.
I admire your discipline, your talent for stripping away the fluff. You don't hide behind ornament. Instead, you leave us with the grit of a 'wolf’s gait' and the cold, startling reality of that 'liver eaten by a crow.' It’s visceral and earthy—it feels less like a poem and more like a physical reclamation.
While some writers look for a way through the dark via osmosis or soft mending, you seem to be using a fist to break right through it. That shift from the 'steady trot' of endurance to the final, violent shattering of the mirror is very well done. You’ve captured that specific, exhausting labour of the soul—the need to carve a life into the bark because the journey itself has been so undoing. This is ruthless, beautiful work.
Amaseusz! I have to agree with Tsetsy, there was rumblings of an epic poem here - perhaps because it started in a wood and it felt like there was a narrative? Awesome work!
This is giving ‘epic saga meets late‑night existential spiral’ and honestly I’m here for it. The goat’s hoof line caught me off guard in the best way
‘epic saga meets late‑night existential spiral’
Really love this comment fr, now I know I'm getting better
Thank you!
this was such a visceral read!!!
Thank you!
Amadeusz, there is such a heavy, soot-stained gravity to your writing. It feels like you’ve reached back into the roots of Polish Romanticism—I can hear echoes of Mickiewicz and that raw, unblinking nerve of the Young Poland era in your lines.
I admire your discipline, your talent for stripping away the fluff. You don't hide behind ornament. Instead, you leave us with the grit of a 'wolf’s gait' and the cold, startling reality of that 'liver eaten by a crow.' It’s visceral and earthy—it feels less like a poem and more like a physical reclamation.
While some writers look for a way through the dark via osmosis or soft mending, you seem to be using a fist to break right through it. That shift from the 'steady trot' of endurance to the final, violent shattering of the mirror is very well done. You’ve captured that specific, exhausting labour of the soul—the need to carve a life into the bark because the journey itself has been so undoing. This is ruthless, beautiful work.
Thank you soo much Sylvia!! I really appreciate that!
Amaseusz! I have to agree with Tsetsy, there was rumblings of an epic poem here - perhaps because it started in a wood and it felt like there was a narrative? Awesome work!
Hope all is well!
thank you Martin as always! Have a great week!