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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 16:20:13 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 104773
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => P.O.E.M.S.
[time] => 2005-08-31 14:13:16
[hometext] => Panageric Objectives Enforcing Metaphorical Sentiments
[bodytext] => Poetry is music on paper; a painting in words; a canvas of velvet; a calligraphy of in stanzas, emotional, spiritual, psychological. A serene mosaic of pathos and diligence; a dazzling symphony of metaphors and analogies; an overlapping collage of allegories and anecdotes. It's a sprinkle of harmony, depression, pain and love. With this pen and paper, the writer begins his task; the knight sets off on his journey. The sunrise is the pen and the brush, the horizon its canvas, the skyline its borders and the sunset the strokes. Each letter transforms into butterflies, scattering like a deck of cards flickered in the air, dispersing like fireflies, taking flight for the first time. Similar to soft pillows of cotton flowers blown in the wind. They nibble on rose petals and hummingbirds sipping and bathing in nectar. A sweetness that cannot be captured by any letters of the alphabet or any word in a novel. Poetry can seize the unfathomable; withstand the unbearable; redeem the unforgivable; trust the doubtable and embrace the uncertain. It can build castles out of magic, create kingdoms out of handfuls of soil, waterfalls with just drops of water, gardens with a single flower and the skies with only a breath of oxygen. It makes you see the music and listen to the dance. It merges your being into the fibres and paint of a portrait. It breathes life into your heart and fills your breath with sound. It gives knowledge to the brain and wisdom to your mind and the insight to tell the difference. It's a bridge between the imagination and dreams. The largest house ever built was the mind; the largest door ever opened was the imagination. Where creativity is the pearl gleaming like cat's eyes at midnight, nestled inside the clam's velvet haven undisturbed. It's the wind in your sails, the sunlight piercing through the ocean's surface in narrow golden veils, shimmering off the scales of schools of fish tagging in formation. Where the seas flow through the Heavens, and stars dance around the sun and planets, orbitting around each other in precise synchronization of a Swiss watch or piano keys made of smooth, cold ivory. Language is a ribbon and knowledge is a bow, wrapping a gift that's a window for the reader and a door for the writer. [comments] => 4 [counter] => 358 [topic] => 40 [informant] => gospel.apostle [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => fantasy )
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