Once upon a time the founder of this blog used to write opinion pieces; it has been a VERY long time since I’ve written a piece on poetry. However, I’ve been feeling very inspired by my Muse lately, so I thought why not just “Give it a try!” A few weeks ago, I was engaged in a conversation of poetry as a subjective art form. As a researcher, I grabbed my phone and hit the net, obvious right? I found a few resources; NOTHING I thought to be beneficial, so I decided to write something. I will dub this the “Georgia Melaris Play” as I remember when we first met, she told me that she wanted to write Daniela so that she could have something to read, as she was so utterly bored with all the pre-existing content. How about I just echo Rob Lowe’s “I think I’m in touch with that emotion.” from St. Elmo’s fire, which will offer you perspective on where I stand.
Now, back to poetry. Poetry, is the only essential writing style I require, like H2O; eventually, Clinical & Technical writing will be its nemesis — until then it’s POETRY ALL THE WAY BABY! Over the decades poetry has been my solace & catharsis during the witching hour; regardless of status on my personal timeline it has been my oldest & dearest friend. Writing Poetry has a myriad of purposes not only does it afford distilled expression; also, the capacity of the imagination to exclusively take the wheel or handle, which ever you’re driving these days, choice of motor vehicles are of no consequence. Stories expressed via prose worthy of Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, utterly immersed with various terrains, idiosyncratically juxtaposed characters with implementation of specific words, we as writers desire to know more about. Not to mention the millions of words at our disposal, and vision to create epic worlds such as Beowulf, Wonderland, or Labyrinth.
Like with that of visual art, poetry can be equally subjective with regard to meanings and phrases that are intertwined into each other. As a poem moves toward its creation of just one more stanza, line, or word... Pardon me a moment, whilst I say this: “To the reader, currently reading, I don’t know if you are a poet or not, right now, I want to speak to those of you who are not poets, who may even hate poetry. Poetry simply put are ideas, imagery, wild abandon, stoic consequence, lust, joy, it can be anything and everything an upside-down twisted world. There are no rules when it comes to expression, and allowing your excitement to pour on the page, words can be played with.” Now, where was I, oh yes, one of my favourite aspects offered by perspective are that singular words are seen through various lenses, not necessarily similar to the context of the originating writer. That is the beauty of individuality, one is able to write exactly what they require, refine as they require, in order to create what they require, based on their specific need.
It’s quite extraordinary how words can be used interchangeably; I think I will use the example with these two words “gorgeous flesh” the meanings could perpetuate a plethora of creative thoughts, none of them will be looked upon the same especially through individual optics. It sounds so cheesy to say that writing comes from a place inside of my first layer buried deep, that is the truth. It is the art form that has saved my life, everyone writes for different reasons. For me, especially when I surrendered to the words the perfect puzzle was fabricated.