Poetry is the language of the soul and the vocal expression of the inner spirit. It is pure. It is clean. It is energising. It is invigorating. Like caviar, it is an acquired taste that is only for those that are refined, enlightened and sophisticated enough to appreciate it.
That is why it thrives and is reverred in only the most advanced of nations and cultures. Essentially it is about passion: the passion to love, to fight, to survive, to overcome and to excel.
It also provides a veritable channel for the innocent expression of pain and joy. It is the most perfect art. It is beauty personified. It touches the very fiber of our being. It takes us to a higher realm where angels dwell and where fairies and nymphs make merry.
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It gives us a reason to live and cause for hope. It is the oldest, the most civilised and the most advanced form of prose and for centuries it has been stirring the deepest emotions in mankind.
From the ancient script of the ”Epic Of Gilgamesh” to the words of Homer in the ”Iliyad”. From Henley’s ”Invictus” to Ehrmann’s ”Desiderata”.
From Tennyson’s ”Charge Of The Light Brigade” to Fani-Kayode’s “Daughter of Zion”, “The Power Of A Woman”, “Remembering Macdreamie”, ”Where Angels Beckon”, “St. Barts and The Godsent Child”, ”She Was Tranquility”, “He Wears The Ring Of The Baphomet”, “‘Ayo Mi: The One That Brings Me Joy”, ”The Passion That Bleeds”, ”A Tribute To The Warrior”, ”I Stand And I Fight”, “The Hills Of Ohafia”, “Snowhite” and “‘Ayo Mi: The One That Brings Me Joy”.
From Kipling’s ”If” to Kunitz’s ”The Layers”. From King Solomon’s ”Songs of Solomon” to Coleridge’s ”The Rime of The Ancient Marina”. From King David’s beautiful ”Psalms” to Yeats’ ”Wild Swans At Coole”. From Browning’s ”How Do I Love Thee” to Sexton’s ”The Truth The Dead Know”.
From Longfellow’s ”Songs Of Hiawatha” to Wordsworth’s ”Daffodils”.
From Macauly’s “Lays of Ancient Rome” to the moving words of the Spartan King Leonides at the Battle of Thermopolaye.
I love poetry. I love its ability to inspire, to embolden, to transcend pain and to rise above all sorrow. I love the power of poetic prose. I love the rythme of the ryhme. I love its strength and its passion and I will do so till I die.