I find poetry to be unparalleled as a mean for exploration. Poetry gives insight in anything we inquire. Especially, since the poet has to ask himself for a meaning of term he is describing, poetry allows poet to understand himself. For a long time, red was my favorite color. Today, I understand why.
I don’t want to use established meanings and symbolic for my poetry book. Instead, I want to find my own meanings and symbols for red. Poetry is more than exploration of self, it’s exploration of our own being.
When I tap into red, what do I feel, see? Red always reminded me of passion and sexual energies. Red never evaporates. It sticks to a person with firm grip, as smell does. You can almost touch it. When the arms of the one you care about wraps around your neck, the red intensifies in your eyes. When I reach for the tip of my wrath about to consume me, I focus and see red. I take it, taste it and let it slide as I swallow it. My chest ready to burst, I put my hands on the floor, hoping a storm will pass. I steel myself, breathe and let the red come out as a poem. My red isn’t divine. It’s hunger in most basic sense. But I’ll let my red be divine, for I shall make it so.
The exploration through poetry and arts lets us experience things for what they are. However, engaging in arts and poetry isn’t about exploring the experience. It’s about taking part in it, shaping it. I want my red to be erotic. I take erotic as term to be close to term art. The relation these terms share I find to be in estatic discharge with which man is left after he participates in these experiences. Erotic is what preeceds art, merely because it comes more natural than art. Being erotic means indulging without conseqeunces, taking part by letting go. When man enters a woman, their thighs provide a much desired space of freedom. No word is too much, not one caress too many. Reason thins out between the sighs, as feeling grows to white, all-consuming overbeing. People are just what they are in those moments. They are people.
This is what we should seek. Erotic means to completely participate in activity. To participate fully in an experience or activity is erotic. Therefore, poetry and arts are erotic, but so should life be. Life is not mundane by default. People just don’t experience it fully enough.
The more I search for a meaning within, I’m beckoned to turn to the world. I, by no means, am enough to constitute the world. The world has so much to offer. I want to include that in the experience I’m experiencing. I want to touch the fibre, leafs of being, smell its roses and eat its petals. I feel the burning urge within, as any man has and it has to be taken care of, saturated. Meaning has a downside too. No matter how many years we spend on trying to find it, much worse is not living it at all. I met many smart men and women. They had ideas, concepts, ideals but it didn’t account to much. In the end, meanings are there to be lived and explored. It’s time to take responsibility in our own hands.
Here is a sample from collection of poetry I’m publishing this month:
Its breath is silent, as it
mingles, hordes of flesh
eternally consumed, to be
reborn as the children of
Sun and Time
Hunger is a choice to whom
we are driven, yet only need
The thin fingernails want to come
off, as the suffocated Moon screams
within the chest
Facing the river downward, a man is
entertained by pebbles, he fears death, in
vivid movements of colors is his remaining
It searches for him, from dungeons of
being, where the saint-woman is chained,
but not shackled by intensive intimacy,
he who makes you at home, isn’t your dog
For you are not fire, but a rebellious drop
by whom the ice melts
For you are not fire, but a genius spark, an
honour to be pierced by light
For you are absolvation of sin known as
not being oneself
Red, the savior escapist, drink from the
cursed lips, stain them with moonlight,
arouse the body to become petals, and soul
will reach its bloom
For nothing unleashes like red, as red is the
kiss which sates the being, whom you wanted
to deny the truth in which it is real
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