the poetic universe

Elements moving, jumbling about, tugging, scorching skin and senses.

Out of the few emerges the many: opposites, rivals, strangers, lovers, commoners – on the stage of poetry, addressing the other: “who are you to me?”, “who am I to you?”

The split of you and I, the unknown to you and I. The ever subtle that leaves the senses stirred – Caravaggio’s Bacchus inviting you seductively to his world beneath the canvas…

Elements do not marry. They quarrel, they repulse, they renounce, they betray, they lie, they are.

——————
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, turning toward the window, should say:
          “That is not it at all,
 That is not what I meant, at all.”

~ Excerpt,”The love song of J. Alfred Prufrock”, T.S.Eliot