On the Nature of Poetry

Trying to describe the indescribable
is a mug’s game.

There are no stories
beyond the power of words,
for stories are words.

As we try to get at the magic of experience,
the enchantment that can transcend facts
and transmute reality,
…it turns into a story
born of words
and limited by them.
It rhymes and writhes,
but artifice of language
only hints
at possibility
of something deeper;
it makes your reader work,
inventing meaning,
while losing your experience forever
and making you redundant…
What a pity!

Poor poet –
forever betrayed by your tools
turning experience into stories,
visceral into abstract,
dreams into – what?


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