I want to humbly introduce a new genre of poetry called Mystic Realism. What is mystic realism in a nutshell? In mystic realism, images are romanticized as tropes and then adorned with transcendental meaning. There are two elements, the signifier and the signified. The signifier is the romantic image conveyed through tropes and the signified is the spiritual idea.
I would like to use some examples to explicate it.
The Brook bubbled in spiritual music. Here the Brook is being conveyed through the image of music and the idea signified is spiritual.
Lovers conveyed their romance through holding each other as psalms. Here romance is the image and psalms the idea.
The storm wept in grief. Here the imagery is wept and grief the idea. Flock the sky as music; listen to their feathers in odes of joy.
Eternity flies as Saints in white: unveiling time on mystic flight. Saints here are white storks. The metaphysical element inherent in this verse is eternity.
Brook of beauty running through: gurgling salvation all the way through. Salvation is an idea inherent in religions. Gurgling is the physical tangible visual element.
Swaying pebbles glistening Karmic odes, life and death meanders pilgrimage blues. Pebbles are something which is tangible and life and birth is an idea of reincarnation in Hindu philosophy.
The waves frolicked in joy. Frolicked is the visual imagery and joy is the idea.
A lover hides in beauty’s deep feathers. Passion is the riddle of the body. Adultery I have sung you as a lyrical poem. A dog howling is a deathly hell. Poems crescendo in the sky. Psyche you are an ornament, a poet’s beauty; there you remain perched as poem on a flower so sweet. Psyche you marvel-you are the heart of desire. The lovers are passionate flowers. I soaked her fonts and she whimpered in ecstasy. Luck you are Cinderella’s shoes for me. The ornament of poetry is the heart of desire. Feelings are a rainbow of imagination. We trembled like rivers in frenzy. Passion, you are the echoes of the heart’s desire. Swim in a river of luck. I played with the fonts of imagination. A heartbeat is similar to the oceanic. She was a Medusa of selfishness. My shepherd’s crook is a pen. The lamp of a lamb that was slain on Calvary was Jesus the son of God. The sky became an angry warrior of pink light. The drama of life is unlike that of the stage