Roses of Ecstasy

Is poetry a way to express a feature, a factor through metaphors? Is it straight forward, blunt, to the point? Direct illusions of truth. Alliterations of the magnificent. Continuous segments of thought. Period until it ends--if it ever does. No poem ever ceases, but no poem is a novel. A short story, maybe. An allegory, maybe. Maybe is such an indefinite word. It's more probable than concrete. Probability is statistics. Statistics are politics. Politics are based on probability. Either avoid the situation at hand or run like a bull, horns thrusted into the Golden Gate, full-force, and shatter! The puzzle pieces of the complacent Eiphel Tower cement the dust beneath gravel. The soil of a wilted weed. One flimsy missing piece pollinating the sunflowers that listen. Not hear, but listen to the sun's rays drifting from sunrise to sunset. Periwinkle tangerines engulf the fog. No, I am not on acid.