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
with humming trees—in dormancy
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.
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