Handwritten title on a piece of torn paper glued on a red book, and a cup of tea.

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My Ode To Poetry

My Ode To Poetry
A poem is a river, the sea, the largeness
In which I can swim with openness,
It is a deck, a station, the purgatory
The place where the words fly away freely,
It is a landscape where all beauty escape
While the reader’s heart race as the poem takes shape

A hidden pulsating world unfolds
While it’s cold to summer and summer to cold —
A brisk life rooting out from the void
The strange de-knotting of what’s coiled,
And while your treasure chest opens wide
Your vast lagoon becomes mine

A poem is a deep cave filled with creatures
This dark place leading to light showers
Where the noises rhyme strangely
As unspeakable hearts chant merrily —
Its obscureness, its enlightenment, its evasiveness
The poem, it strikes, the everness

A whole city is born, lit brightly
Out of a burning gut, proudly
And while my mind gets high on these words
My whole heart drinks of the world
Under a bedsheet of blooming flowers
There where I forever remain immerse

The poem is a ship that sails me away
Amidst sea, land, and sky creatures
All spheres of living, within timeless features,
And when I arrive at harbour on a beautiful day
I lay down belly full, and happily wait
For the next ship, dying to contemplate

A poem is a river, the sea, the largeness
In which I can swim with openness.


We celebrated poetry day on Sunday, and here I’ve tried my best to describe poetically my feelings concerning poetry; writing about how these lines carry me and my feelings towards the want and need for more poems.

Also, during lock-down read and write poems to keep inspiration flowing.


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