By the spontaneous particulars of sound


By the spontaneous particulars of sound

When I listen to the sound
Of poetry distilled by centuries
It’s not like poor music
If the poetry of x were music

Well Shakespeare still read well
Sappho still tugs the heart
So it’s wider than philosophy
Their rhetoric is hardly relevant

To the times, Descartes
Did not anticipate binary!
Aurobindo’s supermind < transhumanism
Without understanding

Poetry flows, Emily Dickinson
Will never grow old, no!
Her freedom is in a tongue

All her own, a symbolism that
Becomes a language, a devotion
To a way of observing

Better to live directly
In experience, without filters
Better without an author

To be our own author
Not necessarily to write myths
We live in myth enough already

But some brains reverberate
With the poetic sense, the
Future poetry, and that is enough.