How to poetry.

There I go, not writing poems daily πŸ™‚

Once someone asked me,
How to go about
Writing poetry.

Now how do I explain,
A chain,
Of thoughts and processes,
Loads of papers, used in vain.
How do I tell you that,
Sometimes straight sentences,
Won’t express
What you so want to.

How do I tell you,
That poetry comes only when
You dare to grab
That pen between your fingers,
While your thoughts are in bubbles,
Your fingers fiddle,
Drawing patterns in the air,
To put something on paper, you don’t dare.
Because you want to,
You know you want to,
But you don’t know how to,
But maybe,
Just try to.

How do I tell you,
Poetry is not about rhyme,
It’s sugar, spice and fine wine.
It’s the thoughts and ideas,
You believe should defy time.

And you’ll know how to poetry,
Not when the words flow freely,
Or when your thoughts are well-composed,
But when you love the chaos in your head.
And you write with no dread,
Let the ink flow, thought bubbles blow,
Your mind and heart grow.
You know it’s poetry, when it’s
Straight from your heart,
Parts of your soul, made into art,
Every word, a way to express,
Not caring about whom to impress,
And you know it’s poetry when,
It comes from within,
And when it does, you’ll know it’s a win.

 

A/N: This is one of my recent works πŸ™‚ I wrote this relating to an incident where my flatmate asked me how I write poems.Β 

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