A poem

Poetry has been in my life ever since my first tooth have fallen.

For some reason poetry was very appreciated in the communist regime. Truth be said we were allowed to “learn” just the Patriotic ones, but hey that is poetry too!

I remember the very first poem I’ve wrote was an “ode” to the revolution. I was 10 and I’ve recited in front of the class, so proud of myself. Now I have no idea where that poem is, I actually completely forgot about it until I’ve set myself down to write this post. Maybe I should ask my mom, maybe she still have my elementary school notebooks.

And then I took a pause, I guess I was experiencing my very first “writer’s block” or nothing as important as an revolution occur.

Things changed when I’ve got my first pimples. 

My adolescent years were full of poetry writing. It was my favorite way of expressing my emotion. But most of it got destroyed in the process of becoming.  Only one notebook survived that period and travelled with me to my new country.

As soon as I got to Italy I’ve stopped writing again. It was hard doing it in the new language and I was trying my best not to use my native one so I can be as fluent as possible in Italian. 

From time to time, a  verse or two would make it on to the paper …. but not for long. 

Time has pass with no poetry in my life except a little bit of Maya Angelou here and there. 

But before 2019  ended the need of this old form of expression crawl back in my life again. And I totally “blame” (please read “thank”) Jenna for it. She encouraged me to express myself with any for of art I could think of. 

She was the one to introduce me to Rupi Kaur 3 or 4 years ago. And when a few weeks ago Rupi announced her Ig “workshop” I knew I couldn’t have missed it!

A few things came out of this workshop: soft wings beating fast like firecracker sparkles, pages filled with inky scribbles, salty waterfalls falling softly over the same scribbled pages and … some poems.