What is poetry to me? Poetry is the ability to capture the moment in words. To provide a description so strong you can taste it, feel it, and your emotions react as such. The power of imagery is the mace of Poetry and she wields it with the strength of the writer. I believe poetry can be written by anyone. The simplest of words placed with the care of a Japanese stone garden can create remarkable art. The influence of the poem is measured by a full spectrum of attributes and it is thus very hard to compare and contrast one poem to another. It is like comparing art, for who can truly say what the artist intended but that person themselves.
My attraction to poetry is centered on the fact that a poem is written for me first. If I understand the lines and the meaning behind them that is all that matters. Your enjoyment is secondary. But if I succeed in my goal I should be able to take you places with me. Every time I write a poem I slit my proverbial wrist and pour my soul onto the page in hopes that a single feeling is felt. Whatever feeling that might be.
It matters not your surroundings you can hear her voice. It must be a woman, a man never sounded so sweet. She whispers even as she calls whatever sweet lullaby it is that she sings.
You can hear it with clarity in the mountains, where music’s purity can be witnessed unhindered. The song of the breeze can still be caught between man made stone mountains, but it may take the gift of the blind to hear it.
In my backyard there is a large garden bordered by a fence that probably soon needs to be repaired. A few trees line the fence and together they help create a barrier from the zooming sounds of human automobiles that vibrate from the street beyond. It is an amusing balance between a peaceful calm and the desperate pull of society’s daily life. Even now I can hear some birds chattering in idle curiosity about it.
Have you taken a moment to hear the breeze? Maybe it was that perfect time when the wind was busy with an agenda, the people were scarce around you, and you had the chance to breathe alone… To shatter the single care or thought trying to develop and instead to hear the breeze and listen to her wisdom.
Jealousy is an ugly emotion. It is unpredictable and many times lacks rational. A rich kid can be jealous of a poor kid’s possession and that is just an elementary example. Humans for the most part experience flashes of jealousy that come and go like a tornado. They generally dissolve like an ice cube over time, but on those rare occasions where the beast morphs into a monster… those are never good times. Never a sound decision was made during this period in a person’s life, because your life is no longer about you. It is about somebody else. Some individual, whether related or not, is eating your life because you are allowing it. I hate people eating my food, our forks joust like knights on a field of battle littered with the corpses of fallen vegetables and perfectly cooked meats… That was random.
What is it that flies the moon lit sky. I see it darting in between branches as quick as a blink. It pauses for a moment, graceful wings reflecting shards of misguided light. In that instance I feel it look at me. A connection is made, a promise given, a lie is said. And then like a flash of memory it is gone, barely kissing a twig as it clips the air in flight.
Shed not a tear for me world when I die. For I swear it will be the most amusing joke ever. So humorous will that event be that your face will be wet from the tears of laughter from above. A thunderous applause at an ending deserved? And what actor would not revel in the moment of glory that such a spectacle would have to present. I would not that is for sure, so take not my eden world and allow me my eve. When I die it will be to the sound of laughter and applause. What other ending would be more fitting?
We must turn our thoughts to common course and find similar path to dealing with enemies. Quietly may we slumber in the night, yet with the coming day problems troop in upon fresh feet. Where may respite be found from the continuous torrent of the world’s problems and issues? Our voices rise in anger, a mob’s demeanor is found quickly, as singular cause is raised upon banner’s head. And as we march forth, resolve strengthened by a rise in numbers, we take comfort in knowing we are not alone. The steady stamp of feet in time with our own forges a bond not found within familial ties. Unity may not have such lofty words as “nation and country” to aid it, but rather has been fastened with the strength found in the word “humanity.” Let those that share not our same ideals of goodness and righteousness fall from the light and embrace their own path. For surely such a path might lead nowhere else but towards the darkened abyss. And as they scream their never-ending screams of agony and regret, we shall smile and reflect upon the justice done for those three above.