Poetry is the Heart

Poetry is the Heart

                       

Poetry captures one’s heart as it is telling another’s story and its venue is eternal. It is a great beauty, a smile so exquisite that it will delight your heart; it is the very last effort of someone, giving all they have when they have nothing left to give but their heart.

 

Maybe it is your soul; by way of a thoughtful heart, or the immutable laughter in a sea of sorrow from a broken heart?

 

The rain amuses your heart while kissing your cheek as it falls. Some may see it as a distorted reality, a journey, a thrill ride, or even an anecdote of their existence.

 

Poetry is the heart--

 

It is like frolicking through a field of acid drizzled yellow dandelions on a brisk dew morning as your heart sings.

 

The desert sands whirl around you, like dancing fireflies whirling around a luminescent glow, just like the poet’s eternal heart.

 

It is like listening to the haunting melody of “Strangers in Paradise” as your heart remembers those cold and lonely December nights. It is the echoing voice of a past love, a worn-out daydream, or the daunting images of your heart, which has been ripped out of your chest, lying there in front of you on the ground. The teardrops fall from your eyes as you look on intently watching every time it beats until it beats no more.

 

Poetry is feeling the pain of your heart that was crushed and the memory still lingers in your thoughts of every waking moment, retelling the sad story of that ghastly day.

 

Perspective is one that puts across the profoundness of your heart being broken as it bleeds the color of sorrow with every beat.

 

The heart is the spirit that is within you, and is linked to the very core of the poet’s soul.

 

Poetry is a vehicle to express a heartfelt emotion, where poets are able to express their inner most feelings. Whether it is happiness, joy, pain, sorrow, or discontentment, they express everything.

 

Is this an accentuation of unpleasantness that follows a love that is all too painful, for you to receive, and yet you do with a broken heart.

 

You are willing to feel the pain rather than to feel nothing at all.

 

Poetry is your heart dancing with the light of darkness in a whirlwind, under the stars of a moon lit night. Lovingly, you encounter yourself intertwined in a ceremonial garment of amethyst purple, accompanied by star-bursts of diamonds as you lay with your heart in a bed of crimson rose petals.  

 

You find yourself in an obdurate situation as you persist “it is my heart.”

 

Poetry is speaking from your heart.

 

You put pen to paper as a poet does telling tall tales of dreamers, who pour out words of a broken heart.

 

The heart leads us to venture, compare, and sense every word by the poet’s hand.

 

Poetry allows you to equate a little bit of yourself in everyone you meet.