(I have just finished three years of literature. For the life of me, I cannot understand poetry unless it rhymes. I know, it sounds very five-year-oldish but honestly, I have always wondered how poets can turn mundane situations into fascinating inspirations. I decided to try it out myself. I mentally took note of all the stuff while cleaning out an old shelf and tried to make a poem of it. I must admit, it didn't come naturally to me, and I used the Synonyms option in MS Word a tad too often. But for a non-poet, or maybe a non-serious poet, this is refreshing. As I re-read it, a lot of lines sound very familiar so I suppose I have subconsciously plagiarised from poets I have read!)
It took some serious blackmailing and a threat
To turn my holidays into an endless strife
When I finally decided to pay back the debt
And clear out fifteen years of my life.
Fifteen long years of my student life
Locked away in that dusty cabinet
Old memories sharp as a brand new knife
Fighting the seams for an outlet.
Newspaper clippings of a forgotten tale
Diaries and Notebooks, filled with scribbles
Tickets to The Frog and the Nightingale
I look longingly, take in little nibbles.
Old School Magazines, my articles well thumbed
That math answer paper, my first 100 marks
They thaw out thoughts that have been numbed
And frozen, like ice, in desolate parks.
I clean out the shelf and lose myself in
Clutters of memories so yellowed and deep
Now, its time for them to enter the bin
As new wool gathers on the sheared sheep.
Writing on such thoughts is perhaps, cliched
But those earmarked experiences are not
Fifteen years later, when this day is frayed
The process will repeat, and replace this blot.
(If you know me and are wondering whatever happened to that bubbly person who does not look beyond chick-lit, either you have to suggest some ways of helping me pass my time or endure more such obscure poetry!!)