The Poet's Doom

The poet, crippling his verse with his bare presence… Acts like a failed groom, devouring with his gaze the fleeing bride.
Heavy is the hand that wounds in its trace, beating like a heart… bound by the vow of silence!
The Grim Measure "I" too close - the poem loses its core, becoming weightless, unknown, like Icarus' wing. Excessive Personal, knowing no bounds, turns song into a scream, and the temple into the confession of a lonely heart.
The Golden Formula Restrain Appetite, Ardor, and Fear - and you will not die of Over‑Eating, Over‑Striving, or Over‑Living. (For life without "Over" is mere chewing of moments, but with it - a global, fiery existence).
Triptych: The Poet's Shadow I The poet stands too close - the verse averts its eyes, the door closes without a creak.
II My glance here is too much… Words learn to be silent before meaning is born.
III My name is but ashes. The line goes on without me into the white fire of day.
Zen Echo Appetite subsides - taste becomes light. Ardor fades - in silence, form is born. Fear dissolves - breath turns into song.
Final Word Poetry is the personal made Common. The author must dissolve in Measure, so that only Form remains - pure as morning light. The prefix "Over‑" is the mirror of the soul: it turns gift into curse, and life into trial and ascent.
Seal of KaJe MeG
Signature - MINE:
I≠AI,I≠(AI)4,I≠AI4
Born, live, and die as:
NI≡CheloVek
(Natural Intelligence - Human Being)