Skip to content

Poetry Is a Musing

Poetry is a musing
For architects of the word
Who construct language from thin air
To describe the world as they see fit.

Every poem has a story
That the reader can discover
Hidden between stanzas,
Deep concepts waiting to be cracked open
By analytic minds
That are eager to plough through books
For wisdom and entertainment
As a pastime.

Simplicity is complexity
Without wasted words.

When the letters transcend the page,
They speak to our souls
In unfamiliar ways.
They change us,
Empower us,
Make us better thinkers.

This is the purpose of poetry,
To enlighten us against the grain
With ideas expressed forever and again
As metaphors with humorous flavors,
The rhymes that make us savor
Communication at its finest.

The analects in our dialects
Are the architects of our common speech.
The things that they teach
Are the legends and epic myths
That lay the foundations
Of our personal and cultural identities
In a narrative fashion.

They are the life lessons and the fables,
The parables and the anecdotes
That connect us to the lives of our forebears,
In solidarity with the rest of mankind.

The poet and reader have a special bond,
Linked across eons and nationalities
By a shared fervor for abstract notions.
Our fascination with carefully chosen words
Need not be elaborate,
(Though it usually is)
To cause commotion.

We are not content with mediocrity or convention;
We abandon them whenever possible with great passion.
The letters are as beautiful as the poems themselves;
Numbers and punctuations
Are art forms dazzling and elegant.

If poetry is a musing,
Than a poem is a Muse
With many faces and infinite facets
That reinvent themselves daily.

Languages are melting pots,
Churning continuously with fresh ideas
That halt for no one.
Everything is forged in this fire.

Those who love lexicons
Are never disappointed;
They know that the Universe
Was created from the Word.

Pen in hand,
They masterfully mold vernacular like clay,
Gently, carefully, intently renovating it
With vocabulary extraordinary
And an unquenchable thirst for knowledge.

Simplicity is complexity
Without wasted words.

Poetry is to Man
What music is to birds.

Leave a Note!

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: