Thursday, February 20, 2014

The scent of poetry

I had purchased my first Moleskine (lined, large size, reporter's style) in a university store a block down from Columbia University. My best friend and I had just finished taking our first SAT exam when we wandered into the store dazed, confused, and hungry. We were from Queens, why we took the SAT in Columbia was because someone in our group of friends decided to be funny. They wanted to take it in Columbia, therefore everyone was roped into going--there were other places where we could have gone, seriously, but we jumped into the nonsensical bandwagon because we were all scared to take it 'alone'.

Digressing. The notebook, thereafter, became my book for poetry. From its use, I wrote my most 'serious' poems therein a few times a week. From 3 May 2005 to 5 December 2006, I wrote constantly. The last entry before today, that is, was 13 December 2008. The May 3rd poem doesn't have a title, but it was a prayer of sorts. While the December 5th poem is titled "Let Me Go". The poem written 2008 is untitled, but was also a challenge by a teacher. It was an introspection about the "shock that the world goes on after someone passes." 

In all this time, the little book still smells like Marc Jacob's "Blush". I had peppered its pages with the sample of the perfume I had gotten from Macy's. Sadly, the perfume is discontinued, but I'm glad the scent still lingers in my little book. 

Anyway, today's poem is titled "Spaces" because I have been musing upon the things or people who take up my heart. The most natural line of thought is a guy, but I don't really feel for anyone right now. Then there's the religious experience, where the person who occupies my heart is Jesus. 

I'm going to stew on the poem. It's written in my little "psalm" book, along with my the rest of its lot. 

I'm not scared of burning passionately for something anymore. That thought just popped up as I looked at my water bottle. The particles of my very diluted phytonutrient shake are suspended in the water I  refilled. I think its sad for some reason. I don't want to just be suspended... moving particles. Agitation. Excitation? Intensity? Yes. 

I would be really bad--or good?--at word association games. 

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