Tag Archives: Thomas Edwin Mostyn

Will poetry ever become obsolete due to its lack of practical use compared to STEM fields?

#Quora

Poetry will never become obsolete, nor will art or any artistic expressions, because this makes us human. We read and write poetry with the heart, not with the mind.
Music makes us feel. Science forces us to think.
Exploring imaginary dominions is purely an artistic expression of feeling with our heart and creativity. Even perfumery is subjected to poetry. Perceiving a fragrance has to do with interpretation, not to mention that some people have synesthesia; they see the smells in colors. Some fragrances remind me of turbulent twilights, while others remind me of a sun ray that sparkles in a bottle, emitting a solar heating vibe akin to a lamp.

The above question echoed in my mind, making me think of the film Equilibrium.
Because art elicits emotions, all representations of art have been outlawed in an effort to foster a conflict-free society.
Sean Bean’s character is willing to sacrifice his life for a book of poems by William Butler Yeats:

“I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”

We read poetry, listen to music, and enjoy paintings because they contribute to our humanity. They allow us to travel vicariously and evade in faraway lands that offer hope, love, and wonder.
I cannot imagine the world without music, scents, and art. There’s a story behind all of these. Sometimes it’s a story in verse.

Art – Thomas Edwin Mostyn

If You Forget Me

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.
Pablo Neruda

Art – Thomas Edwin Mostyn

Also published at Quora.com.