The visualization of poetry -- Oceanic

Oceanic is splashes (pun intended) of colors and imagery.

The first word that pops to mind to describe this work in its entirety is mosaic. Each poem can really stand on its own but when put all together you can hear the lull of water kissing the shore. You can feel the terror of resisting the wave and the pure joy of staying afloat. I see this duality most prominently in the poem When You Select the Daughter Card. It reminded me that despite the chaos and the forces trying to drown me there is so much power in my feminine energy as a daughter, as a sister, as a woman. It reminded me that feminine energy is rooted in the earth and la naturaleza. The imagery of the daughter as the mystical mermaid and the cunning siren is the visualization that I never realized I needed. For some reason it felt as if I was reading the beginning to an Epic poem. Looking further into this I realized the form evoked this feeling for me. The closeness to the right margin and the division of stanzas gave it that classic feel but centered in modern contexts. I would even go as far as to challenge myself in that respect as well because there also seems to be something ancient about this poem as well as the whole text. Which ironically brings me back to the idea of nature and the ways that evokes ancient and sacred energy for me. This is what I admire the most about Nezhukumatahil writing, is the close sewn intertwine of nature, human behavior and revolution. Meals of Grief and Happiness really opened my eyes to this intertwine. Associating human emotions and cycles with the elephant, the dog and the horse was really grounding for me as a reader. It brought me into a different consciousness and lens to look through when it comes to finding revolution in our cycles of heartache and happiness. It also made me think about the connection between natural ecologies and the human body as an ecology. How those two are also apart of this mosaic of life (and the text). Because in reality our cycles are not separate from the earth and its ecologies. Our interactions with the soil, the ocean, the animals around us all feed back into us. That grief that moves its way through the elephant, which is probably caused by colonial intervention, finds its way into the soil, into the food we eat and the water we drink. We feel natures sadness, anger and joy; this is something I realized after reading this work as a whole while watching my mother hail down cries of ice from the sky. We must do better. For her. For those who follow us.