I wrote my first poem in the third grade aged 6 perfectly rhymed and rather inane couplets chronicling the life of a feline with an affinity for lilies and Chile. To my nine-year old sagacity, poetry was just another language assignment; an evaluation of my vocabulary and imagination. Nevertheless, it was a form that caught my fancy, a genre that to me was symphony and zephyrs in the arid lands of lengthy, dry prose.
Years on, I have often pondered over the true definition of poetry. Its archaic hallmark of fixed rhyme schemes, structure and meter have been rendered obsolete with the advent of free verse. It flows over like a canister of bottled emotions, acting both as a salve and matchstick. It is raw and potent, both eloquent and aggravating, a catharsis and epiphany for many.
Poetry to me is the anchor that keeps me afloat when I am drowning in the deluge of my own thoughts, bestowing upon me the wings to unearth my own frontiers.
This Anthology is a treasured collection of the world through my eyes. As you traverse through this book, I hope you rediscover memories you may have forgotten, and moments buried beneath the sands of time. For what is poetry but symphonies in words and a voyage of emotions?
4th January 2019