“I should think that many of our poets, the honest ones, will confess to having no manifesto. It is a painful confession but the art of poetry carries its own powers without having to break them down into critical listings. I do not mean that poetry should be raffish and irresponsible clown tossing off words into the void. But the very feeling of a good poem carries its own reason for being… Art is its own excuse, and it’s either Art or it’s something else. It’s either a poem or a piece of cheese.”
—Charles Bukowski
Sometimes it is good to throw my words into the void. It is the one time when there is no echo so I don’t have to hear the same distortions that seem to plague me when I speak to others or even carry words into my own head. Indeed things that enter the void tend to disappear for good so what better place is there to get rid of things one no longer wants. Oddly enough tho since the void is also the fount of creativity, what comes back from such an exchange is often worth so much more. Indeed it may be the best conceptual recycling and renewal program ever. Yet it has such a bad rap tho I guess most people are somewhat weary of the whole losing things forever idea. Yet the risks are worth it
Blessings, G
Unfolding Flow by G A Rosenberg 
Alchemical Flame by G A Rosenberg 