Prose Poem
Poetic Delectation--
I've always wanted to break poetry in the strangest of places -
in forests and foyers and vestibules, on staircases and hillsides -
to feel poetry pulsating like a heartbeat or like the flapping of the raven's wings.
For nothing is as ordinary as it seems - there is nuance and innuendo,
and writing poetry is like roasting ashes, or packing an empty suitcase,
you find yourself plummeting into a chasm, an abyss - but tell me what is the distance between brain and paper,
between lost and found, between insanity and clarity - how far is it to the depths of your soul?
And sometimes words are like crumbs dropped in the forest and you are just like Hansel and Gretel, trying to find your way back home.
But the crumbs get eaten or lost in the wind and what you need is a compass, a north star, or even a margin on a blank page -more than black ink on white spaces - silhouetted galaxies tattooed on terracotta -
Poetry is learning to read between the lines, preferably under the stars embraced by moondust.
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Note--
That's how I see hues of Poetry in the shadows of my mind.
Please let me know your views.
Love to all. 🧡🧡
-- Yours Isa
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Approbation of an Irrational Heart ( Poetry Collection)
Poetrypoetry collection#random thoughts# driving deep inside the dark abyss# penning to understand myself and others# sometimes emotions, sometimes longing, sometimes random thoughts jumping out of my reverie. Ongoing....
