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Poetry? Poetry Indeed.

Marcello Colasurdo Avatar  Send Soup Mail  Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled Poetry? Poetry Indeed. which was written by poet Marcello Colasurdo. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Poetry? Poetry Indeed.

I too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all this fiddle.
                  Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one discovers that there is in
                  it after all, a place for the genuine.

                                                                -Marianne Moore


For nonese rhymes, care too little
and structured prose, care too much.
My friends, I have not yet seen
poetry of a true mind.

I must be cruel, to be kind
what you may repress,
I unveil.
what you may build,
I dismantle.
who am I to judge creativity?
the axiom of peripheral thought,
there is no poetry, just symbols
of the mind.

The imaginary is my playground
The subconscious is my work place,
language is your burden!
unrestricted, a bitter taste,
inklings of a garden gaze.

Write a line and destroy the page.
Write a stanza and destroy
your doubts.
We are all a young Picasso,
our world is essentially
a bottle out at sea.

Walk a mile, or maybe two,
until your feet blister
until your legs cave in,
experience is like a rag doll
throw things across, 
a crowded room.

Make sure you attach
no notes that explain your words,
like a photograph needs nothing
except the souls they capture.

Fellow poets! show the world
your prowess in emotion,
your exclusive ability to 
alter perspective,
imagination and stillness
of a fragmented life. 

Shakespeare never once loved,
because he knew it all too well.
Poe never once wept,
because he knew it all too well.
Their hell, their beautiful ordered paradise,
would be our palette for design.

Imagine a world, do you see it?
exactly, it is not visible because
it is not poetry, it is unreliable. 

our list? goes as follows...

Love.
Hate.
Interests.
Affliction.
Beauty.
Benevolence.
Sincerity.
Alienation.
Bliss.
Macabre and the Melancholy 
reality of truth.
These are the keys
to open your poetic doors.

I will be waiting there for you. 


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