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Poetry is.

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poetry is chasing after a dream -
and incomprehensibly spectacular
thread left over from the nightland -
chasing like a startrail is a comet
adjacent to the buttery moon.
poetry is chasing after ideas,
but only rarely do we netcapture them in
their entirety,
with skill,
if at all.
the words in your head just won't come.
you know you have an outcry
the world needs to hear -
an outcry that, alas, remains elusive.
but in an extraordinary, fleeting,
magical moment,
something transcendent is created,
a breath that only feels of place
among the heavenly stars.
and the idea is perfectly captured,
like a singhopping bird
in a copper cage.

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