BLOG - The Pleasures of Poetry

The pleasures of poetry rest within the lingering sensation of memory, left behind in the infinite spaces of the mind. Like trails of star dusts, every poem makes love to the reader behind the dark shadows of secret desires. Poetry is like a lover, slipping away after the pleasures of the previous night have come and gone. Only to awake at dawn, to realise it was a dream. At the same time, there are poems that speak of darker dreams, shifting shadows and dissonant voices that echo when the primordial ghosts of memory roamed this ancient earth, haunting the imagination with tales that frighten children in their sleep. These poems speak of worlds empty of love and a bard is walled in by the enigmatic shadow of our human plight. As a poet, I am aware of the corrupt and cynical vices that define our human existence which includes xenophobic beliefs that shapes our relationships with others. So I brave into the hive of time in search of poems that taste of honey, drenching the earth with lust and opulent tastes in summer. I am epicurean in my tastes for things elegant and seductive, dreaming about lovers dancing in an intercourse of joy by candle light, until the dawn becomes still and cool with dew. Every night we drink wine and saccharine on ice, feasting on cake and strawberry jam, grapes; faking promises of eternal love behind the mask of radiant laughter. With jelly and icing in everyones mouth, we read poems, leaving behind trails on the pathways to seduction, for posterity to follow, in the form of epic songs steeped in legend and lore.