A reverie

A reverie happened last night… when
i met the mythical Muse.

Kan:
what poetry is or what it should or should not be.

MOUSAI:
Glad to see you Kan, at least someone remembered the heavenly Muses.
Poetry is
a symphony in the solemn temples,
or a painting of Angilo and Vinci-
that’s felt where
feelings sweetly express in metres,
and inspires souls and culture.
and
it surely veils in beauty,
begins in delight and ends in wisdom.
I,then inquired,
But what about the new(contemporary) one,
as many of my DEARS love it,
Mousai:
Ah! its nothing but volleys of non sense, a chaos of FORM. that
sparks annoyance among heavenly muses.
this is no art but
a swings of
slangs and unusual phrases,
in a tortured ,fractured tone.
(like to play Beethoven in hip hop songs)
And its rhymes defies
all the poetic trade,hard to wade and
full of scorns.
again my ignorance revolt:
but we have some great good minds,
who created some fabulous rhymes
Mousai:
Never mention them please…
their ART is abhorrence to the mind,
with flippant rhymes,
And how daringly they fashioned it as a
contemporary NORMS.
And deems themselves as sages.
I:
u mean writing poetry is discovering
the conflict with ourselves
an echo, a rhythm, make nature
to dance as well.
Mousai:
yes, and Yours…ah!
nothing but a ‘gore’ hosting scuzz.
And buzz of bees;
snarky and fusty.

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