The End of Chapters of Rhyming


When she transformed into a butterfly
There was no turning back
Eun Ji, we sail on point into some unknown

No thanks or apologies can make it right
There is no apology for our place on Earth
And no gratitude strong enough to repay these debts

If I feel as if the top of my head
Where being blown by the sun
I would give up poetry and become distilled
Into something the centuries crave
And I once possessed, but it would not be me

Nothing is mine, that I have done
The human heart knows no boundaries
Identity and separation, are but convenient devices

Poetry is the oldest lie, so when we leave her
Dangling, we make a personal promise
To be truthful, to be realistic

And emotion has found itself out
And no longer finds words, we are set free
If to be a poet is not a profession, but a condition
Then the former poet can go on to other things
Bringing the craft of not understanding

Bringing the dreamer to the ends of time
Where the universe conspires in secrecy
If in the end you tried and cared
Let that be enough to start your new life.

12 thoughts on “The End of Chapters of Rhyming

    • Storytelling and narrative have to be intimately tied to our brain’s evolution of language….how we construct identity and meaning is fundamentally “made up”

  1. I was intrigued by the line poetry is the oldest lie. I personally feel poetry is a doorway directly to our souls and our souls can only be truthful so how would poetry come upon the deceit? Interesting and lovely way of putting the despair that some poets can feel regarding their disconnect from reality.

    • I like the metaphor of poetry as illusion, I’m not sure why, it just appeals to me. Art can be seen as an escape from life, as martyrs that would prefer to live in subjectivity. I can however, as easily take your position.

      • That is perhaps the most telling and interesting thing about a poets mind, it never breaks but can always bend like a reed.
        As for illusions, I truly feel that it is life which is the illusion and that poetry is sometimes the Wake up call

      • Yes it’s a fluid pursuit and must lead to some kind of mind-altering neuro-plasticity and fusing of the emotional and rational brain in many respects. What do they say? It makes the highs higher and lows more profound?

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