Smara, Morocco - We always talk about things we do not understand and we understand things we do not talk about.
Smara, Morocco – We always talk about things we do not understand and we understand things we do not talk about.
Poetry is a word that we all understand, but we seldom stop for a while to reflect upon what does poetry mean for us. As the international community celebrates Poetry’s day, I thought it would be a good idea to stop for a while and find out what is poetry.
Poetry is the art of sewing words, meanings and elements of language. It is the language that helps us perceive our being, the cosmos and the lord through the use of words. It is foreign language that majorities do not speak and do not understand. Poetry is not just a beautiful literary genre, it is beauty itself.
Poetry has usually been a noble way to express poet’s visions of the world, life, being, existence, and death. It is a spiritual means of communicating humans’ emotions, feelings, thoughts, and personal philosophies. It is an invitation to reflect upon the self and the others.
Poetry is the expression that voices our happiness, sadness, anger, psychological moods and existential anxiety. It is a message that is full of meanings and codes that conveys universal values of love, respect and help, sharing and caring, tolerance and acceptance, justice, peace and fraternity.
Poetry is a journey within the kingdom of dreams, hope and liberty. It is the language of our hearts and souls. It is a trip inside the oceans and the waves of the self, the consciousness and the unconsciousness. It is the heart beating and the engine of life or the soul that vibrates and runs the bloods within the veins of our minds and hearts. I believe that a heart that does not taste poetry’s sweetness, bitterness and beauty is, undoubtedly, dead, selfless, brainless and lifeless.
Poetry is a voyage and a walk inside the gardens and the paradises of inspiration and love. It is a flying bird that flies high in the skies of dream and imagination and escapes the shackles and the ties of reality and daily sufferings and social ills. Both Poets and lovers of poetry are dreamers and those who have no dreams and who do not live for a dream are surely not living. They are just pretending to live and their life is but a sad nightmare.
Poets are not just teachers and gurus of wisdom and inspiration. They are fortune-tellers. They use their full senses to see what we, normal people, do not see. They feel what herds do not feel and hear voices that others do not hear. Poets’ eyes are not like ours eyes, their ears are not like ours and their hearts and senses are different from the majorities’. They are the prophets of goodness and beauty, though, people consider them idiots and fools.
Poets are the babies of the cosmos. They keep being little babies and their poems are their cries to attract attention whenever they want us to listen. They live beautifully their journeys from the womb to the tomb. It is a beautiful way of talking about things that might be ugly and a meaningful way to convey even meaningless things. It is a voiced scream to make us hear voiceless messages and sounds. In brief, poetry is not just an ideal world or a utopia.
Poetry is life and life is a beautiful poem that has to be lived and seen with the eyes of a poet. Live poetry and live the poets.
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