On the eve of the Election Day - Nov 2, 2020 - I wrote my first poem and opened this Instagram account. Not only did I admire the work I read but many of these pieces were written by young poets I wanted to uplift and inspire. I’m grateful every single day for all the lessons that brought me to today. I’m not sure I’d be as grateful had the journey been a simple one. Thank you Streetwriters for all you do in our community. We love you!
There was a time when poetry played a central role in our culture and civilization but today it has been pushed backstage. It occupies an obscure corner in our society - one knows the foremost poets of today. The classics still have their audience, their aura of mystery and attraction but poetry as a living mode of expression for our cultural experience has died.
Poetry turns a cup of water into a chalice, a wooden stick into Moses' staff, a mere fountain into the Fountain of Youth. Poetry carries emotions hidden by metaphors, allusions, and references. It strikes our hearts in the form of Cupid's arrow, scorches our mind in a fiery splendor, and…
"I sit under the greenwood" was initially inspired by the book of the same title, "Under the Greenwood Tree" by Thomas Hardy. There is also a poem by Shakespeare of a similar title. This is a reflective prompt and the submissions we got showed this character in almost every other piece.
If tomorrow starts without me I wonder what will happen? Will anything change? Will the world stop for a moment and sympathize? Probably not. But if tomorrow starts without me, I am sure the night will miss me for it will have one less lover and the moon will weep for me for it will have one less friend.
Tonight let's hang a dreamcatcher over our beds and catch our dreams; dreams of another life, dreams of love, dreams of whatever we have ever wished of because dreams are stillborn children of our brain that never get to see the sunlight. So let us dream and let us see.