The spirit of a poet tenaciously thrives in a comfort zone … a niche … a creation, driven by a steadfast fury, purely to enable survival. Such survival is paramount and critical when one is realistic amidst the chaos that can enervate the mind. To a poet, the resounding faculty of creative performance must be preserved and protected in any gamut. The skillful and artistic glamour of a poet’s task is illustrious of the ornate environment in which one is succumbed to perform. Does this enigma entail that a poet is a captive of his or her own substance? Let’s discuss.

 

Poetry is an instrument through which one endeavors to reach the mind and heart of another. It is an expedient with which one desires to resurrect emotions and touch someone’s soul. Poetry is also a mechanism which empowers the poet to release his or her own sentiments. Empirically, poetry is an art … a passion … a sanctuary, wherein one is generously in tune with their essence. And in doing so, they are able to mitigate the chaotic distress that infiltrates their mind, allowing them to focus on what is harmonious and decadent.

Finding oneself in such rapprochement is the key to flourish in the comfort zone that every poet creates to warrant endurance – a secret abode in the mind – where freedom is in abundance and creativity is at its zenith. Freedom is an exigency, to the extent that it requires the poet to write that verse … rhyme … poem. It is an outpouring of one’s heartfelt perception laid out on paper to mystify and reach the mind of the reader. The reader is garnished with true excellence as he or she engages in a struggle of words and phrases – enlightening thoughts … seductive rhythm … alluring messages … or melancholy memoirs. The work of the poet signifies yet another inspiration and inimitable manuscript, with the propensity to enchant and impress a message to the reader. 

 

Poetry is a form of art that seeks open dialog with the reader. It is laden with passion, beauty, humor and sorrow. The poet raptures to outpour his or her heart on paper, utilizing an illusory or fundamental concept. The spurious stride outperforms in a bewitching, haunting and enchanting style. The poet, invariably, performs the role of a seasoned captive illusionist in his or her illustration, juggling to refine yet another theme, truth or thesis, which will exalt and mesmerize the audience? 

 

The destiny of a poet’s manuscript lurks vehemently in the mind of the reader, who aspires to find solace and harmony to fill a void, or simply replenish a soul-searching venture. The mind may reinforce a gracious and open infrastructure, or an unforgiving platform, where acceptance and revival reside along with indifference and rejection. 

 

If poetry is but a figment of the imagination, the poet is an illusionary artist who can penetrate such vision and infuse his or her perception vividly into the heart and soul of the reader. Every poet attempts to justify such artful, yet grueling passion, instituting unparalleled devotion and abundance, and, inevitably, a vestibule of illusion.

 

Illusion beholds openness, wherein contemplating a fusion … a backdrop … to inherit an arduous task – that of creativity – while the mind of a poet seeks glorification and pleasure, pleasure that creates “poetic euphoria” and rallies the poet to persevere in painting one’s soul.

                                         

                                         

                                     

© Laura Simoes  2008