The Poet’s Mind

Frank Cadogen Cowper

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I believe that this world is nothing but a dream.

— GUSTAVE MOREAU

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…people write off dreams as just another normal human experience. We literally go into a lucid coma for 8 hours a night, slip through the veil of reality, and experience inexplicably complex hallucinations, and then suffer amnesia about it in the morning.

~ TarotReaderPeter

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In English, we say: “I’m trying to move on.”

But in poetry, we say:

“I untangle your name from my veins each morning,

only to find it woven into my dreams again at night.”

In English, we say: “I miss you.”

But in poetry, we say:

“I trace the shape of your absence in the spaces where your laughter used to linger,

and let the echoes of you fill the hollow hours.”

In English, we say: “I don’t know how to let go.”

But in poetry, we say:

“I carry you in my chest like a stone —

heavy, unyielding, and carved with the sharp edges of what once was.”

In English, we say: “I feel lost.”