Bleeding and wrecking lives
“Literature and Poetry”, “littérature et poésie” it goes in many labels and is entwined with many respected identities. Shakespeare and Jane Austen are a few to name.
It’s strange how I can’t write an introductory article about literature and poetry when i’m actively passionate about it.
Literature is a state of mind. A weather. A sunset. Maybe a lost rose in the park. Or a receipt in your jean’s back pocket.
Poetry, on the other hand is words that bleed and leave you wrecked on a fine autumn evening.
It’s strange and mysterious but it’s beautiful in it's own varying depth, while literature transports you into another dimension. In a life that is not yours but makes you so engaged and into it, that it’s no less than part of you.