I love poetry, but I typically stick to rhyming varieties. Yet, here I am attempting poetry in prose. Its my crazy attempt to mix me all up, bake me and see what comes out of my brain-oven. I can only hope that it is something yummy and unusual, and not another recipe for mashed potatoes. Below is my personal description of poetry, not in typical verse, but hopefully, lilting descriptive prose. I hope you see what I do in the following free-flowing poem! And while I can only kiss the boots of the very beautiful and immoral Lord Byron, whose poetry stirs the soul and shall remain revered and immortal; a nearly unparalleled genius who introduced the Byronic Age, I hope that this gives you a feeling of what poetry means to me.
A Hormonal Surge of Intense Feeling
A Free-Flowing Concise Dance with Words
A Short Burst of Beauty-Sorrow-Drama or Humor
A Heady Metaphorical Mix of Incense, Perfume and Poppies
A Literary High Calorie Delight….. to be Savored in Small Bites
A License for Ideas–Thoughts–Topics not Otherwise Well Received
A Tidal Flow that Inspires–Provokes–Symbolizes and Addicts the Reader
It Evokes Maximum Feeling with Tightly Controlled Language
It Demands a More Precise Word; a Better Turn of Phrase; a Higher Degree of Feeling
Poetry is a Sinuous, Sensuous, Symbolic
journey through fine language
a peek into the poet’s soul
Poetry’s finished product rarely satisfies the poet
yet poetry’s creation calls to us
a succubis muse.