More than ever, poetry is needed.

My 100th Poem!

Photo by Jan Kahánek on Unsplash

Introduction

In February 2023, I started writing poetry after having a conversation with a friend about bugs and the nature of free will versus biological imperative. Unknowingly, the process of writing that first work is something that I would closely repeat (in some form) for a long time afterwards. I write in a little black journal that’s falling apart but now holds a place close to my heart. I don’t give any one poem a title until it’s done (enough to where I don’t want to add anything, but I may still edit). Until that point of completion, the poems are titled “Poem X,” with X denoting the chronological order in which I started writing the different poems. The words below display “Poem 100.”

Poem

More than just a projection of my 13th grade rap

dreams. More than some grandiose delusion

of oratory fame. More than just an excuse to yap

about what’s on my mind. More than some illusion

to make myself seem cool to girls. More than a tap

to drip out my words and mental protrusions.

More so a way to vent than instruct.

More so a way to uncover than obstruct.

Moreover, it’s an emblem of my family legacy. This

is for my grandfather who taught English, and

his daughter who drilled in me the difference between

“bring” and “take,” and her husband who lost

his play manuscripts in his youth, and his daughter

that will never let her voice remain unheard, and

her little brother who looks up at them all.

More than ever, poetry is

needed

yet met with disdain.

More often than not an

unwanted

artform.

Its doubters tell us,

“make your words plain.”

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