(04 October 1943 / Germany)

Then What Is Poetry?

I've studied much Philosophy
and Art, I had advisors,
felt pains and struggles, misery
spring up like little geysirs.

All sound and language, imagery
was there for me to see,
was shown by others openly
it was the golden key.

A mirror had been put in place
presenting my own heart,
reflected back at moderate pace
deciphering MY art.

What was impossible to do
a stranger here presents:
my innermost and ah, so true
my soul's predicaments.

Confusion leaves, not to return
and loneliness abates,
another mind, free to concern
itself with secret states.

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Comments (1)

ha ha! Secret states of mind in a beautiful nutty shell Herbert! The rhyme and meter run fluidly as from the poets mind to pen to paper and out of hell again....smiling at you, Tai