The last time I ventured in poetry was more than a decade ago. Prior to becoming The Petroglyphs' editor-in-chief, the first position I held in the organization was as literary editor in my freshman year. I continued venturing into that form of literature long until after graduation. I was able to write about a hundred. However, some things came thereafter that prompted me to write less frequently -- from having to go job hunting, dealing with a harsh relationship breakup, and eventually becoming busy with a full-time job with different schedules, I became occupied that I've forgotten poems altogether.
Not to mention that I had developed the morbid belief that poets tend to become suicidal later on in their lives (think Plath and Sexton among others) I realized I did not want to go through that. I completely parked my poetic pen for good.
I've never been familiar with spoken poetry (or like how a couple of office mates refer to it as oral poetry) even then either. Though my interest got piqued a little after watching Juan Miguel Severo in one of the episodes of On the Wings of Love. Soon after, I saw one Youtube video of him performing his piece Ang Huling Tula na Isusulat ko Para Sayo (which was a chest-wrenching performance I have to say). In a way, he is one young man who is still has high regard to the traditional art form, for developing a love for an old craft in this modern time.
When his book Habang Wala Pa Sila was released in bookstores about a month or so ago, I initially had hesitations to buy it. But after not so much thought, I decided to get a copy just for the sake of literary curiosity and because I was in search of something new to read and for my mind to devour on. It's a compilation of his pieces about love. I am now halfway through the book; and reading his works made me feel nostalgic in some way. It brought the feels. Of the years when I too, was doing the same.
In my current single state, his book gave me the feelings: of how to fall in love again and the pains of being heartbroken (minus the heart breaker). Reading his book allows one to feel the kilig, the joy, the pain and sometimes, just letting the tears fall reading the poem about trying to let go.
And despite reading the book, the prodding of colleagues and of my mom to go back and write again, I still don't have plans to go back but who knows, maybe, when creative juices strike enough for me to pour them all out, I would just find myself releasing and driving that pen again.
