I usually don’t post my poems here, but I want to celebrate the World Poetry Day on March 21. For me, poetry is like a huge crush on a bad boy: it gives me the thrills. The ooh-aah. Even goosebumps. Not only from reading them but also from crafting them. For most people poetry always look somewhat easy (just put rhymes at the ends) or cheesy (always lovey-dovey monkey letters). But poetry is a demanding form of art that involves building many blocks –voice, form, rhythm, sound, symbol, to name a few- carefully on top of each other with intense gentrification while owing a lot to lexicography to meet its purpose.

You know how it is: if it looks effortless, then it’s effortful. Well, after a huge effort I may stop and end up keeping the poems to myself without sharing it to my actual crush (I just realized that I’ve never had a real bad boy crush). Nonetheless, I love the feeling from discovering what a poet is saying or from finding the perfect word with the exactly needed amount of syllable!

So here’s one. It’s not a great one, but fits to welcome the end of cold days.

Do you like poetry? Tell me. Happy World Poetry Day! 🙂

Last Days of Frost

 

As white angels return to the sky

Lay I,

with humming trees—in dormancy

tittering birds—imaginary,

half awake in thick aged leather,

with no desire:

I’m frozen, say I, until her arrival

Oh pale sun, when will you stop playing?

Wind slapping slippery streets, when are you leaving?

I’m dying, cry I, until I’m born again.