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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write.
Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground.
 
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Everyday Canvas #845403 added March 31, 2015 at 12:27pm
Restrictions: None
What Poetry is to me
"Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits," said Carl Sandburg.
Since April, the poetry month, starts tomorrow, what does poetry mean to you?
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Poetry is distilled feelings without problems or pride, the highest carat of gold, deep roots where ice cannot reach, and sunshine that warms. Poetry is softer than silk, sturdier than stone, sweeter than honey, bitter than jalapeno peppers, and more fluid than a waterfall.
Poetry is something I carry in my heart, sometimes as open as the skies, at other times as closed as the deepest secret nobody is aware of. Poetry can paint without brushes or paints, what cannot be seen--like love, like pain, like internal scars.
When I write poetry, I can marvel at being alive, loving what I see on faces or in nature, or feeling the wrongs as if they are lumps in my throat. When I write poetry, no matter how I try, my masks slip, and I find out how far I have come and how far I can go. Through poetry I can rebel against life or look death in the face, and if or when I can find the words, I can always find the way to express all that matters.
Poetry gets me drunk, but doesn’t alter my mind. Instead it opens me up to beauty or to agony. Poetry spreads my wings over the awe and wonder of consciousness, perpetually and forever.
Poetry has immense proportions; yet, it is without limits, and it has a voice that rises above all voices. Poetry is everywhere, and it cannot be silenced.
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FYI: in WdC, we celebrate the poetry month of April, in "Dew Drop Inn"  , under the experienced and enlightened leadership of Katya the Poet. This is not a contest and no gps or anything unnecessary are involved. Just the love of poetry. If you wish, take a peek.
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