Poetry through my eyes

by Harshit Jalan

Poetry through my eyes.

What reminds you when you hear the word poetry? Or let me put this in a better way, what do you think of when you read the word poetry? Well, till you think, let me put a thought to this word. For me poetry is a soft gushing wind on the most scornful day. It’s that sweet pastry you have it on your cheat day and don’t regret it.   You see, words build home in people and maybe that’s why I never wanted to go out of this home. I remember, in my 7th standard I scribbled one poem on mother’s day and didn’t want to share with anyone but destiny had other plans. The place where I wrote that was my English notebook and my teacher wanted us to submit that. I guess while she was flipping the pages, she saw the little poem. She called me and I still remember the exact words she told me “I really want you to write more and show it to me from next time” and that’s how I built my interest in the field of poetry. But you know, I will be really candid here, understanding literature and constantly push yourself to write something new makes you tired sometimes.

“If a poem hasn’t ripped apart your soul; you haven’t experienced poetry” –Edgar Allan Poe. I have always believed words carry the strongest impact. It has the effect on someone, which can either change your life or can leave an impact. With that being said, I remember, reading one poem that really felt so strong. “Bluebird” by  Charles Bukowski, a poem that is so vulnerable with such metaphors that did leave an impact as a reader. The poem is about the innermost emotions, we humans hide. Bukowski addresses the social stigma surrounding men and their vulnerable emotions which intrigued me. You see, I am gonna say this yet again, words, they hold such heavy sword with them that rips our soul and build a weird interest in our minds. The taste of poems held me to keep writing. I tried my hand in different areas; feminism, mental health and yes relationships. There was no specific inspiration in writing poem but there is this one movie, actually two but let me start with the first; Dead Poets Society. I think this one movie holds so much importance in my life with my area of interest. I watched this movie, in dire need of motivation because I was at my lowest time to continue writing anymore. But this movie just made everything feel so good. John keating, played by Robin Williams, quoted one line which changed my whole perception, “Poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for” and I cant really stress on how much it impacted me. I was inspired to write more and this character felt so real.

Let’s keep the next movie for sometime and let me make you travel how I learned writing poetry. I always thought, poems need a rhyming scheme and without that poems don’t make sense but after reading few poets like; Sylvia Plath, T.S Elliot, Pablo Neruda, Vikram seth, I started learning how to shape poems. Metaphors and honesty makes a reader feel the depth. I started reading more and believed that words shall crawl on my paper to write a piece that might create history. I asked myself many times “Is it worth trying?” I always had my insecurities clutched on my chest because I never felt confident if I will be as good as others already are whom I read over social media, every day. One day, I got a prompt for a poem,  “How are women  born” and it intrigued me a lot. I worked for two days straight on this prompt because I challenged myself to write on this. When I completed my poem, I straight away submitted to few pages and sites over instagram and to my surprise it was published everywhere. I still go back to that piece whenever I feel like to get some inspiration. Since then I never looked back. I kept writing poems and started enjoying to explore more on this. I know I don’t really belong to be said the best and I don’t even want because art has no tags of being the best, worst or mediocre. Art stays forever to read people and paint them in the canvas. Well let me tell you now about the other movie that made me close to poetry. Paterson, that made me love how humans just keep their hope in words. “I become the cigarette and you the match, or I the match and you the cigarette, blazing with kisses that smoulder towards heaven”  one of the most beautiful lines that moved me from the movie Paterson. After all that’s what poems are meant to do “Rip your soul apart”

So here I leave you with a piece I wrote asking a question “Where do poems live?” do you have the answer? Do you know where do poems live? Till you think about, read a poem on it.

“The poet is the priest of the invisible.” — Wallace Stevens.

I have found poems in stolen

glances of people who never

stopped to read the eyes.

In a barren land where a flower

still blooms with a hope to live

admist the hate of the sun

that has soaked lives of many.

In the dry leaf kept in between

the pages of a half read novel

which somewhere stays in the

same page, where you found

a sad poem which didn't let you

move ahead to complete it.

Poems are a way to break hearts,

to revisit places, to rethink

your decisions and pause

that smile which you hold

in the name of 'I am okay'

But where do poems live?

Where do you find poems

breathing, living, smiling

just like humans, at times?

Somedays I feel, poems live

underneath the skin which hides

words of my irascible moments

where all I did was shut my room

and cry in silence. There my poems

lived to come out of the wet tears

spilled on the pillow covers.

Somedays I feel, poems live on

the road less taken, the empty roads

where silence mumble the poems of

John keats and welcome the autumn

leaves, which has poems breathing

to be read by the world. And somedays,

I feel poems live invisible like the

air that lets you breathe,

and poems are a way to find yourself

in words of poets. They make the poets breathe the words which are unseen,

unnoticed, unknown by people,

but find them in a dusty book

which speaks nothing but the truth,

you always wanted to know

about love, life, people and you.

“It was at that age, that poetry came in search of me." ----Pablo Neruda

Poems will find me just like

lovers find their pieces shattered

around places. Poems will find me,

the way seeds find their ways to

the fertile soils, that grows in muted

voice. Poems will find me, the way

mom finds dad's old photographs

and still recite his favourite song

'Abhi na jao chod kar.' Poems will

find me. I will recite them on my skin

and fill my room with its aroma that

will smell like jasmine. But someday

I will find them on my own and

let the world know, where do poems live.

-Harshit, breathing poems