The Poet and Lady Poetry

The poet is forever the prisoner of his own limitations, and therefore is condemned to break his boundaries and search for the absolute. Just as Sisyphus who was condemned to roll his boulder uphill only to watch it roll back down, the poet finds new boundaries after having broken old ones. He must continue to find ways to cross these boundaries. Such is the essence of being a poet. He who stops will sever his relationship with poetry.

Poetry, on the other hand, has no boundaries. Poetry defies the boundaries of language, leaving the poet behind, drowned in the ocean of words and images. Poetry crosses the boundaries of the imagination, leaving men wandering in their own dreams. Poetry goes beyond the human experience, which ties men to their history. And poetry transcends the spiritual, as it is enlightenment in itself, while men are bogged down in doubt and torment. Poetry is self-existing. She does not come from the poet, but actually creates the poet, through seduction and inspiration.

You have long left the realm of language
And let me drown in the ocean of poetry.
The dying old moon is gasping for breath
While the shark king wades in the shallow creek.

You have flown past the land of strange dreams
Leaving me wander this human world.
At sundown, I shed my skin looking for my Self
And shouted on top of my lungs to shatter the darkness of the night.

You have forgotten the river of memories
And led me astray in wistful nostalgia.
In my nocturnal dream, my former life woke up
And stirred the old ashes to kindle a new fire.

You have turned away from enlightenment
Leaving me tormented by remorse.
The bell toll at midnight roused me from my sleep
While the crescent moon curved the path to Nirvana.