Dance of the words

​I have come to realise that poems are the best way to grab people’s attention. Put in some rhyming words, a little metaphor, repititions and alliteration and it makes the readers happy because of the rhythmic dance of the letters you choreographed. Personally, I only fell in love with poetry recently. I never considered myself as a poet because my main way of expelling emotions is through writing really long articles, compressing feelings into short stories and hating it when there have to be word limits and mostly by creating novels and novellas that stay with me atleast for a whole year because that is how long it takes for people like me with schedules of a life different from that of a professional writer’s to stick to. I believe that poetry is loved because of the lack of time. Nobody likes to spend time on extremely long passages that describe scenarios in their entirety when a small poem of a few stanzas can convey things better and leave you feeling mushy. But I am the sort of person who likes people who have reached this part of the article, knowing very well that it is going to be a long one. Of course, nobody ever said that poems have to be short. Really long poems make me extremely happy and having written a few such poems myself, I have to admit that it is difficult. Sticking to a single emotion while maintaining the rhyme scheme is definitely not easy. And discovering the variety of poems: ballads, pantoums and many others with difficult names only leaves you feeling humble. Poetry is not for someone who likes to be sarcastic all over the page. A satirical poem is something I would like to give a try though! Poetry is a cure for broken hearts certainly. And poems about love persuaded me to fall in love with these little pockets of happiness. In this time and age when people are too busy to truly imbibe the magic that comes with old-fashioned romance, poems are an escape for the poet and the readers to taste the pleasures of the innocence that comes with the daunting feeling of love. Unless they describe modern manifestations of it which are more relatable.

I am not great with numbers

But I remember yours perfectly well

All those words that I had typed and erased

Would have told a different story if I had the strength to press send

Connecting with just you through the distance

Incomplete words and late night dialing

Now I see your name in a different light

And wonder if ,on the other side, you are staring at mine too, in silence

A time existed when words were a limitation

Feelings took over in our endless conversations

When later we slipped into a phase with monosyllables

And casual greetings and formality that finally ceased

Waiting forever to hear a ring

Even an accidental blank would suffice

But will I be able to read into your emptiness

Without mistaking it for another lie

I see you properly placed on a list of familiar names

What makes you stand out is how untouched the space became

Constantly on an endless mode of typing to online and now, to nothing

Willing each other from opposite sides to stop hesitating

When finally, tired of waiting, you go back to the routine

I decide the end is near, maybe right here

Before I can force myself to release the hold on delete, just before our love becomes obsolete

I hear you call my name and finally turn away to find you standing right there
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