When the universe flows out of your heart
in hyperbolic resonance heard by the few
circles sharing your esoteric intersection,
they laugh and weep to your mirth and sorrow
while the onomatopoeia whispering or shrieking
in a landscape of rocks, rainbows, rain and roots
stirring the mud below;
There, you hold your pen, mindless of thoughts
with sweat droplets anointing your skin and soul
and the heart pulse singing the blissful gift
and your mind watching from above the hill,
your pen is rambling around
in a hieroglyphic dance without counting
the beats or syllables, fearless of the law,
with no road patrol to fine you for your anacoluthon,
for excess of imagery, or for an extra beat;
while you transgress the law of poetical omerta;
You take a break of the universe
And like the disoriented swinging wolf,
you are chewing red bits of your heart,
and soaring in poetic ecstasy.
Oh! I need learn to write that way! What a fantastic poem, Poet! ! ! Is that something. Not for explain just to feel inside. Great
If you are describing your own poetry, this is an excellent description of the poem I have just read - and isn't grand that a poet can break the rules without being caught by road patrol? This is why poetry cannot be birthed in academic institutions where red lights are on all the time - only outside among moonlight, song and wine!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very well done..good