A poem is like An idea enchanted with Christ A feeling so strong, so passionate, of ecastacy Expressed as a song, a verse, or a muse You feel like expressing your genuine self who has been lost a million years in your soul And it suddenly came back to visit you There you kiss every fragment of your own sorrows When the feelings flow every fume a different color every sorrow a different shade Pretending you lost in the world of maze you mix and paint it with amazing grace With unbearable feelings of sensitivity Wisdom and delight shine through hardship Streams of ascendence Striking to walk in parades Out of this worldy painful gaze Oh you chase! Chasing the ideas like wind, playfully, with peace and joy Your sensitivity is like the colors in which the palettes desides to mix with the life of water You paint, you brush like compulsively craving the missing part in your soul You breeze, you dive, you hurt, you sweetly mourn you gently sigh with loving ecastacy with bittersweet feelings lingering sensitively A poet's music is like when you play jazz piano with obsessive improvisations healing your incomplete soul deeply Resilienting your energy to Express your own definition of Beauty Expanding with elasticity After you finished painting the whole picture you sing with peace and joy with enrichment in your emasculated soul you recover from self-complacency And sweetly sigh hm....aren't us poets lovely? :) -- 开始於无邪 静止於纯洁 一夕之间下起你的雪.... --

※ 发信站: 批踢踢实业坊(ptt.cc) ◆ From: 140.112.4.114 ※ 编辑: celestial09 来自: 140.112.4.118 (08/09 14:57) ※ 编辑: celestial09 来自: 140.112.4.81 (08/10 02:34) ※ 编辑: celestial09 来自: 140.112.4.81 (08/10 02:35)