Writing poetry just happened. I didn’t intend it and I don’t even know if I am good at it. There is a chance I could suck completely. Despite this I keep going. Ideas seem to spring up out of nowhere and scream at me, demanding their release. So many experiences in my life have left their mark. This is what happens, we are affected and it leaves an effect on the way we think and behave. However most of us don’t get the opportunity to express our feelings and reactions. Words are a way of getting it out to have a closer look but at the same time words help us maintain a distance, and this distance helps us understand ourselves better.
While writing my first poetry book Emotions in Eruption I became fascinated with colours and the way everything around us has its very own signature shade. An artist makes it his or her business to capture this on canvas, or computer or whatever medium they choose to work with. Nature just lets it happen. It blends and mixes and blends and mixes some more creating constantly, keeping us on our toes if we stop to consider.
I was going through a difficult period and living in an environment that stifled even the very ability to breathe. To escape I found myself caught up in the world in front of me. It saved my life, gave me focus and reminded me that beauty, natural and everywhere around us, is a reason to survive. Emotions in Evolution sprang into being. I delved into the meaning of colours, of plants and discovered nature gives a new start, refills the empty glass.
The book does have other pieces of work including free verse debating life’s problems both individually and universally. People can also bring us those same joys but sometimes we need to see around us without that emotional human tug. Nature and its colours call to us, represent safe emotions, and give us time to reflect. Sunshine yellow or the moodiness of black. and all the in-between grab our attention, make us stop and think, and that is a marvellous thing because we pass it on to those that matter.
I wrote this to remind me about the difference between nature and the human.
The Human hand
We take a tube
using long thin greedy fingers.
A fisted curiosity lingers.
Rainbow colours grow by our hand
yet if we chance to step away
and just peruse the land
we see that nature has every day
shown us a better blend
Where the brush had our digits curl
now slowly we choose to unfurl.
We copy what is already there,
opening our eyes wide, to see.
We comprehend our gathered fare
as nature bestows the treasured key
and kindly allows us
the grand, the very full effect.
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