I’ve always loved poetry since I was a child. My first poem was written when I was around 12. I started writing more when during adolescent but even so, the effort was intermittent. It has only been the last few years that I started writing again, as a form of self-discovery.

There’s something elegant and concise about poetry. In my world of poetry, word and space are important where neither could be wasted. The elegance lies in the use of the right words to complete the puzzle. Some words are so raw, waiting to be strung together to make sense of the world. There are days when words just roll out of my head and into the tip of my fingers like an easy Sunday morning. Sometimes, words don’t come easily and it will take hours and days to get one right word.

How do I start? I have no idea. There are no science and preferred method. I might look at visuals that invoke thoughts and emotions. I might be lost in a random moment that could only make sense when translate into words. These moments are what Wonderboy would like to refer to as my “Walter Mitty” moments where my mind would go exploring into the unknown. I don’t know how it works. I just know it worked.

Over the next few weeks days, I’ll (re)publish some old poems written over the last 3 years, during a difficult phase in my life. Recently, I started writing some new ones and I hope it will see the light of the day soon.

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