I have been raptured by the lyrical presence of words. Their harmonies sing within the teal seas, paralleling life beyond my reach. I float among them, my hand raised before me. Fingers open, the airway fills the gaps, the source of my euphoria.
Writing an essay might seem like a daunting task but the kind of freedom you experience is almost impossible to find anywhere else but too much freedom sometimes means no freedom at all. You have huge possibilities to choose from and you are dumbfounded.
I always hear people say they have 'writer's block'. I have been writing poetry consistently for almost four years now and I can't say I've ever experienced it. Not in the way that other people have, or mean when they say it, anyway. Do I have periods of time where I write less? Sure! But I don't label it or complain about it, in my head or to anyone else.
There was a time when poetry played a central role in our culture and civilization but today it has been pushed backstage. It occupies an obscure corner in our society - one knows the foremost poets of today. The classics still have their audience, their aura of mystery and attraction but poetry as a living mode of expression for our cultural experience has died.
Thoughts. What are you, O thoughts? The beginnings and endings. The journeys and destinations. The highs and lows. The transcendence of pleasures and pain's mighty blows. Are you these or are you more? What depths hide your origins? What drives you to death on abandoned shores?
When we look at a piece of art, a poem or a book, different feelings flow into our hearts such love, reverence, awe, irritation, disgust, or outright hatred. What causes these feelings are myriads of meanings, memories, associations, and similar things that we experience in our lives. They give art its meaning by adding to its depth.
Stories are spells that enrapture the readers and teleport them to another world full of wonder, beauty, horror and all spectra of imagination. Like all spells, they need an initiation; a word, an image, a mystery to capture the attention of any wanderer.
It disappeared slowly, the colors. They melted and blended into one another. The first one to go was red; she was fiery and youthful, spitting anger in every word she spoke.
Who doesn't love a wedding — let alone a Christmas wedding? When Gabby Summerhill sends a video message to her four children and their families that she is getting married, not one of them is even remotely surprised. Gabby has always been a bit of a free spirit.