So yesterday was the 100th post on Poetly. It has been a rewarding and humbling journey thus far. All I have is gratitude. When I began this project, my imagination had not caught up with the worlds that such a simple idea would open up - a-poem-a-day. I’m still learning, but I’m loving every moment of this journey. Writing about poetry, and etching out a frame through which one can see the delicate dance of language and beauty, is every poet’s dream. I hope these posts have been as enriching for you as they have been for me.
I wanted to share with you today a poem by one of the early poets that I’d shared on poetly. The archive began with the intent of promoting poets and poetry who are not published in mainstream publishing platforms, and may not even see publishing as an end in itself. Also it seeks to question conventional notions about poetry - to show that there is poetry in a headline, in shopping lists, in letters and in song. It is envisioned as a space free from the trappings of exclusivity - an open space that encourages feedback, critical engagement with craft and most importantly, sensation.
We do not feel anymore. Our connection with most things is synthetic, curated or regurgitated. Opinion travels the world faster than truth, and so much of conversation is beginning to sound as if it is merely translation. I see the need for a depth of engagement, intensity of sensorial nuance and a reaffirmation of reality.
Raju tai’s poetry has always taught me to feel, and to treat ordinary phenomena with love. Her words turn the drama of reality into cinematic montages, and even inanimate objects into mystic shadows, through which one spies an essence, a souk. A poet who sees himeslf at the periphery of a disorienting world, feels the intimacy of the universe through these contemplations. She reminds me again that art is the lie that helps you see truth.
