failure to launch

Poetry finds us, every minute of every day. The question is, are we able to recognise poetry when it stares us in the face?

.



A dust devil took in its arms a dervish, full-twirl;
varicosed haze of antiquated looking glass
reported a vaguely familiar but fuzzy form,
who with meticulous albeit off-beat aesthetics
chose apt words no vain hope the audience persuade.

Behind every facade, please find that weaver of words.
Dust off their wings, let them soar above new vistas.
Leave the safety & comfort of the finite & regulated;
we've spent so much of our lives out-of-the-box
that we've forgotten the warm embrace of dreams.

Come! Break the shackles of my cliched existence, or
Should I then be made to apologise for my failure to launch?




.

Author's Note

Poetry finds us, every minute of every day. The question is, are we able to recognise poetry when it stares us in the face?

Reviews

[Phillitup]

This is beautiful. I apologize for not writing more about this after the lengthy reviews you have given me. I thank you for those. In a short spell I must say that you are absolutely right. We recognize poetry when it is in a sort of rushed and ragged state. When it excites and entices us and yet we do not see it in its raw form. It could hit you on the head like a battering ram and humans would never notice. That saddest part is that even poets have some trouble with seeing poetry in a raw form. This is a wonderful write. Nicely and eloquently penned! Best regards,
Dell

[Ken Simm.]

This is so full of atmosphere and true in all its expectations. A wonderful piece.

[Red Brick Keshner]

Thanks Ken, your review is much welcome and much appreciated!

[Jordan Deall]

Quite impressive. Especially the use of larger words than is normally recommended, which I personally prefer.

[Red Brick Keshner]

Thanks Jordan. You are truly appreciated!