Painting by: Jean-Jaques Gilbert
Poetry in all honesty was not something I ever really enjoyed reading, as it always seemed to be the thing that had no point and it was not a matter of me not understanding it or having trouble doing so but the thoughts of others simply not concerning me; regardless of how they were expressed. Another matter regarding poetry which I found to be limiting was the fact that in school I was told that a poem had to rhyme, basically in the way that it had to be written in such a fashion that a certain word had to sound like another, for instance the last word of the second line had to hit the ear in the same way as the last word from the third line. All of which seemed to me like following a cook book or a recipe; where one does not create but simply follows instructions, which I was able to do while in school but mostly in exercises that were the poems I wrote and left forgotten in classes.
I however with time found out that a poem did not have to rhyme, and was not about telling a story though this it could do but the point was to express oneself in a fashion where all one had to do was have something inside. This perhaps a passion or enthusiasm for something or someone which one cared to put in to words for the soul purpose of simply having it, perhaps to show others. I was even glad to learn that there were more forms of poetry, besides the ones that had words that sounded alike as those that did at times reminded me of jingles used in TV commercials.
I with time started writing, first stories then eventually a book, which became know as “New York’s Society”; however poetry was something I had barely dabbled in. At first basically as a way to pass on a compliment to a girl or woman who had caught my attention for the day or hour. Regarding these poems which I took so lightly that I did not even bother to keep for myself, what I would do was pass them on to the intended person asking her to keep it, as it would be for her and only. It however came to be at the start of 2008 that I got an idea to write a poem and actually not get rid of it as I had done all the rest; the poem I am refereeing to is in this book under the title “What Does Love Pertain?”, which one could say was the first poem I ever really wrote.
When writing “What Does Love Pertain?”, I tried to concentrate on a subject which was why it was that people past a certain age almost never fell in love and if such an emotion could come to those past a certain amount of years. Many liked the poem though for my own; I could not understand why as the emotions in it seemed so personal to me that I never would have imagined that they would have meant anything to anybody but myself, yet for some reason they did. Looking back I guess writing is all about emotions, even if there is no story behind it or even a conclusion.
Within the year that followed other poems came, notably those entitled “Rompryska”, which were inspired in a relationship I had with a woman many years younger then me along with other poems, among which the “Melba And Ariseli Poems” can be counted. “Melba and Ariseli” being two young girls I encountered in Peru who though at the time did not inspire me to write poetry eventually did. This was what I would call my start in writing poetry, which lead to many more poems and hopefully development in my style; along with a variation in the topics I chose for my poems. Sexuality, homosexuality, Christmas, Halloween, Marilyn Monroe, Wagner’s Operas, classical music and others become the topics however always including the same passion on my part for what ever the subject might be. As this to my way of seeing things, if nobody else’s is the main goal of any form of writing regardless of weather it be poetic or not.
In conclusion I would like to say that I have grown to love writing poems and hopefully my readers will grow to love what I write though this in modesty I can only hope for however with regards to my knowledge I can say that like a friend of mine who prefers to play sports rather then watch them on TV; I am also one who prefers to write my own poems then read those of others. This in spite of who they were written by.