It’s time to begin my eighth year of national poetry writing month!
My life has been really busy, with grad school, and with starting a new job. But I’m back and ready to do my best to post a poem every day for thirty days. What better stress release is there than art?
Join me in this poetry challenge, and disturb the universe yourself!
“Poetry is Sane”
My head splits open, crammed full as it is
With heaven I have squished in confined space.
I am all logic, understanding this:
That finite worlds are mine now to embrace.
But come the muses, here to give me earth;
To rescue me from living dissonance,
And in the great expanse of art give birth
To raucous joys and star-strewn infinites.
For ere I climb Parnassus, I am healed;
My mind may dwell in matter, but my soul?
It is not held for ransom, nor revealed
To mortal eyes. Logicians, take a stroll.
Comes next this ink packed full with potency
As I relinquish pain for poetry.
Inspired by this quote by G. K. Chesterton:
Poetry is sane because it floats easily in an infinite sea; reason seeks to cross the infinite sea, and so make it finite. The result is mental exhaustion . . . To accept everything is an exercise, to understand everything a strain. The poet only desires exaltation and expansion, a world to stretch himself in. The poet only asks to get his head into the heavens. It is the logician who seeks to get the heavens into his head. And it is his head that splits.