Taste

It appears to be that love of poem and poetry is a matter of feeling, emotional tasted grocery. What tempts the pallet today may tomorrow cause dismay though writing in imagery at play. All that we write and express is more of heartbeat's guess and our soul in undress. Comes the intense release to words heartache and joy easily heard embraced by read and written stirs. Listen, hear it quiet and loud, the voices of once silent crowds released from their self made shrouds. What is that crunch a mere revelation of some inner touch hidden messages, not so much. Express yourself some once sang divulge your inner inhibitions to the gang shared open handed writes of individual yin and yang. I seem to lean toward three line poems of late anyone know what category I should take?