Poetry is possibly an art form to express not what you see but that which you perceive. Maybe it’s only purpose is to preserve the self.
Poetry is falling in love with a word like pierian, which relates to poetry or poetic inspiration. It also refers to the Pierides,(the women who challenged the muses and were turned into chattering Magpies), also to the nine Muses, the mythical daughters of Zeus.
“I am here where poets come to drink a strong poison with tiny shards of ice to loosen my primate tongue and its syllables of debris.”
(Fragment by Terrance Hayes)
Dreaming is an ode to the mystery of moonlight when in slumber we transcend ourselves to walk paths that are in a fantasy world, to escape the reality of the real world.
The Moon, that pale orb that traverses the night sky, unreceptive in its observance of the earth below.
Bombarded by the pinpricks of a million stars, passive, pale, luminous and unconcerned.
“It’s the stars that pitch white needles into the pond”