Music blaring, mind partying among notes and rhythm,
enjoying the beauty of harmony and melody at my beck
and call.
Fearing nothing, finding my way through sorrow and
grief onto this plateau of relief, etching my mind
with joy and serenity.
Picture-perfect passion, dwelling deeply in the
essence of my being, kept safe for all time beneath
coverlets of this interior soul.
This crispy poem is a very artistic presentation of the dynamic architecture of the poet's inner vision. Thank you, RoseAnn. It was a joy to read.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love your forthright emphasis on interiority. It is not something most people talk about and yet they are constantly having that interior conversation with their own Self which is what interiority is - in essence. If there is a practical value in writing and reading poems, it must be the way it guides, focuses, amplifies, enriches that interior life which would otherwise shrivel up from lack of stimulation. Another thing strikes me here: most people associate interiority with silence, but you explore it through sounds, music, partying - the real world which is raucous and LOUD. This attitude is going to reach more people than a sedate poem about the delights of SILENCE. They won't be able to dismiss poetry as irrelevant because you show them it is already part of their world too. (I blurred thr distinction between interiority and poetry in my comment, because they are so closely related in our minds,)