Din cand in cand am dat in unele locuri peste tot felul de ratati care se cred mari poeti astronomi si fac o chestie care se cheama astroverse, neavand nici un fel de cunostinte de ritm, rima & altele.
Din ce am vazut rezultatele sunt de obicei atat de patetice incat nici nu ma obosesc sa postez asa ceva. Pentru eventualii viitori “poeti”, postez aici o un exemplu de “asa da”, de la un maestru al fantasticului de un lirism si o plasticitate lingvistica deosebita, Lovecraft:

Polaris by H.P. Lovecraft
by H.P. Lovecraft
Into the North Window of my chamber glows the Pole Star with uncanny light. All through the long hellish hours of blackness it shines there.
And in the autumn of the year, when the winds from the north curse and whine, and the red-leaved trees of the swamp mutter things to one another in the small hours of the morning under the horned waning moon,
I sit by the casement and watch that star. Down from the heights reels the glittering Cassiopeia as the hours wear on, while Charles’ Wain lumbers up from behind the vapour-soaked swamp trees that sway in the night wind. Just before dawn Arcturus winks ruddily from above the cemetary on the low hillock, and Coma Berenices shimmers weirdly afar off in the mysterious east; but still the Pole Star leers down from the same place in the black vault, winking hideously like an insane watching eye which strives to convey some strange message, yet recalls nothing save that it once had a message to convey. Sometimes, when it is cloudy, I can sleep.
Well do I remember the night of the great Aurora, when over the swamp played the shocking corruscations of the daemon light. After the beam came clouds, and then
I slept.

Mai multe aici, care e public domain, pe bune 🙂