My Husband Does Not Get My Poems and That Pleases Me
Shout-out to my favorite poets
I have started recently to write poems; not regularly, just every now and then.
But even if I occasionally write in verses and stanzas, I shan’t insult the authentic poets on this platform by calling myself a poet.
I.am.not.a.poet.
The likes of Connie Song, David Rudder, Randy Shingler, Najmu Sehar, Thief and others whom I continue to discover as weeks roll by — they are poets extraordinaire based on my discerning appreciation of poetry.
For me, poetry sings a unique kind of melody to our soul, for our spirit. It stirs our emotion. At times, it may even wreak havoc in our inner thoughts for it could burrow into past memories or deeds long buried.
Poems, based on my personal criteria, should touch and tug at our hearts. It should push us to ponder and wonder, with the poem leading us towards differing levels of consciousness.
Poems of this soaring standard are clothed in wondrous words which are woven to thrill the senses. They often stun the intellect at first, especially when emotive threads are used in the weave.
The fog, however, is fleeting. Our mind is soon awakened by subsequent verses and stanzas to worlds, real or…
