Poetry has immense scope of expression

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I wake up lazy today, in fact a bit late too. In the morning I do nothing except for going for my walk. I like starting my day walking on the grass bare feet. My eyes are facing the grass however my mind is busy in planning the whole day. Sometimes I forget how long I walk and sometime I feel I return home early but this is how I start my day.

To be honest, I hate the idea of writing for free. I also have my bills to pay.  There is no point in working harder and be paid less or nil. It is the worst thing when people have money and don’t want to pay. Some pay half and hold on to the rest as if it is a tether to control you.

Such people have late night parties which are full of drinks and snacks followed by late midnight or early morning dinner which constitutes of several courses but they have no money to allow me to foot my bills on time. Such morning is very painful for me as a writer when my mind is thinking about the bills and I don’t want to start my day writing.

On such morning it is good to read aloud some poem I have in my inbox, read from my kindle or listen to any audio book. Today I started with my friends’ book. Indeed it has helped me to block out the world and the bad feelings running in my blood.

Soon I feel I am busy with her poetry that holds her loneliness, complains, wishes and sweet compelling mix of romance and seduction. She expresses her life in those lines and probably those are the only hours when she finds her soul.

Poetry allows even your deep-rooted emotions to flare up and let you flow with your emotions. Certainly it is a key to healing yourself. It cleanses your mind and transforms your writing. It connects you to the divine energy and gives you ways to unburden your soul.

A family incidence description suddenly moves my mind to my mother’s words spoken once while we were talking. She said that one of her relatives had a small casserole that had a small lead of steel that fell into the toilet sink. He threw the lead out of home.

Rationally it is metal. It can be cleaned and used again. So why did he throw it out? There must have been anger guiding him to throw it away. Indeed a sorrow too.

I think he threw it away because of another reason; that he did not want to remind himself that the lead was in the toilet. Memory plays a vital role in our day to day life.

My friend’s poetry has tinge of reactions as she saw her husband with a fallen woman on her bedsheets and she threw them both immediately out. In one moment her life changed forever. Her writing still carries the carcass of her romance and the tears of isolation.

Poetry has immense scope of expression of your deep-rooted feelings and gives new life to you and to every poetry lover.

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