Canoodle

I think I am going to buy a nice book and write all my “beautiful” poems in it. I have always regarded poems as timeless memories. Poems remind us of our many emotions but most importantly it often reminds us of the person whom it was written for.

My love of poetry actually dated back to my secondary 2 days, when I meet my then English and Literature teacher from Canada, Mrs. Louis. I still remember the time when she asked the class to write a poem and submit it as an assignment. I remember writing something about a clock. The poem is by no means a masterpiece, but hey it’s a start and from then on I began to read and love poems whenever I got the opportunity and I also believed poems have to rhyme.

The strange thing is after that assignment I never wrote any more poems until quite recently. The first being “If Only She Knew”. Maybe love is indeed the instrumental motivation to poetry. I don’t know, but nevertheless it has become a creative medium where I can express my unresentful feelings.

God, if I knew better I would have spent my free time during my secondary schools days composing poems rather than playing soccer with my friends and playing video games. But then again, being Ganz and all, I wouldn’t have. Try to image telling your friends that you were staying home to write poems rather than playing soccer with them. I can almost make out their faces and the swear gestures at me now.

Well folks, I am amidst of drafting another new poem and will post it up as soon as I can be satisfied with it. Damn I wish I could make some living out my poetry. Think about it, write poems, compile a book, sell the book, make lots of money, marry a woman or two, have daughters, buy a lovely house in some old European countryside, grow old and die in the presence of your loved ones.

Then again, it probably wouldn’t happen.

So till my next post ya, its bye from Ganz.

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