angliterario

made with canva   What is poetry?    The usual definitions are just one click away. But to each poet or wannabe poet the answer would be a gamut of words and phrases both imagined and defined. Each one unique. Some might be fathomable, others oblique. It depends on ones point of view and the history of that point of view. What is a poem?    Is it enough that words rhyme or have cadence. Or in answer to contemporary voices, none at all but needs some sort of flavor that only its author understands. Many scholars attempt to decipher some hidden meaning between lines and words of dead poets.    What if there is none? What if a poem is simply a cornucopia of words as they come out of our heads, or fingers as we type or write depending on ones preference.    Maybe in some deep-seated consciousness a poem is ones attempt to put definition to an otherwise pale view of the world. Or simply some neural rumblings that needed shape and texture. Po...

You do know how to wait Almost a day and half You gave a nudge But wait The birth street is not open Your papa's sweat Beaded and glistened like pearls Still we wait The big roundness of the moon Sent rays of moonshine So you'll find your way out Still we wait Abuelos anticipating As if it were to be the first time They will hold a pea-sized hand Still we wait No pains came it was difficult to tell Whether you're coming Still you take your sweet time Serenely floating In your sac of life I couldn't blame you The outside is a completely alien place But that is still a far away place Don't be too late in coming My little Kiara Papa and mama would very much like to meet you