A story from childhood that influences my poetry? Hm. I don’t know if you can call teenage-hood childhood, but that was the first moment I ever came across poetry. I was a teenager, in secondary school, and our English teacher gave us an assignment to write a poem.
I remember being so excited because I had just been introduced to rhyme, alteration, and repetition and the way the words sounded together had some sort of musicality that immediately captured me. This was one assignment I was very happy to do. It was the very first time I wrote a poem of my own. Granted the poem might not have been good, but it is exhilarating just thinking about that experience.
After that, I wanted to write more poems, and I remember one poem I wrote for my mother. It was a childish poem, full of words that rhymed with Mummy I love you, or something like that. I was so happy when I went home for the holidays because I wanted to share that piece with my mother. I remember giving it to her – I’m not sure I got the reaction I wanted from her – but there was a day recently when I was cleaning my childhood bedroom and I came across the poem. I still love it to this day. It was my first significant poem.
Thinking about that experience now makes me view my development into poetry in a gentle light. I cannot write a poem that does not originate from some deep part of me, and usually, these poems feature people, things, or situations I feel connected to. My mother’s poem being my first significant poem just reminds me that I have not lost that part of me even as I get older. I am grateful for that.
The poem I would like to share is not exactly influenced by my childhood but reminds me a lot about it. The poem is “Keeping Quiet” by Pablo Neruda. I first came across this poem on a YouTube channel that highlights poetry, and the sound of it, ah, it brought a rush of feelings and emotions while at the same time bringing peace I could only associate with childhood.
There was a period in my childhood when my siblings had all gone to boarding school, and I was left all alone. It was mostly quiet in the house, and whenever I read or watch the video featuring this poem, I always go back to that place. It was a very lonely and peaceful time.
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