Poetry that does not rhyme
is still worth the time
. . . . the turning point, the inflection point . . . . when the pain and the sorrow having reached a peak of intensity, are spent . . . . the anguish finally stops, lifts, dissolves away . . . . and, for a passing moment you are numb, without feeling . . . . then peace and bliss flowers, blossoms up, wells up, like a fountain abruptly switching on . . . .
. . . . that delicious moment when the accumulated, built-up, excruciating, gnawing tension gives way to . . . . sweet, powerful, soothing (waves of) release . . . . and the spirit flies, soars free . . . . leaving the nagging flesh behind.
. . . . death is the release, the climax, the orgasm that frees the spirit of the prison house of the flesh. . . . why do we fear it so?
. . . . end of non-rhyming poem . . . .
We include these pictures from a cruise last year to Cabo San Lucas and Puerto Vallarta (previously posted, but very nice).
The timeless, ever restless sea lapping against the rocks and slowly, inexorably eroding these away beneath a long lived sun.
Rocks at water’s edge.
copyright 2014 – larrysmusings.com
