Poetry is nothing and all,
Sign of feels inspired in ink,
More than just a beautiful scroll,
More than pulsing sounds clink.
What the poetry really is?
Is that ancient, or is that new?
Art or part of routine biz?
No idea by me. And you?
As for me, I wouldn't know either. Poetry is a riddle wrapped in mystery - or something like that (as Churchill once said about Russia). In any case, it often comes from above and is as irrational as it is beautiful.
I liked your verse indeed, because it comes from inside; one feels that you are not indifferent...
"as irrational as beautiful" - well said, Valery! And as for me it is unexpected every time also. That is one of a kind of the most sacramental thing.
Thanks for your response and good luck!
Igor.
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