According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, the simple definition for poetry is something that is very beautiful or graceful. But I have read poems that look horrible at first glance, and I have heard others that can manage to make you feel vastly uncomfortable with the first few verses. So poems aren´t always beautiful; however, something that most poems have in common is that they’re always filled with feelings.
My name is Ana Salas, and I wrote my first piece of poetry when I was four years old. Perhaps I’m being too ambitious. Perhaps you cannot call poetry to what I wrote (with terrible grammar and spelling, I must add) that day, 15 years ago. Yet, I still like to call those short lines “poetry”; not only because it took me nearly 3 hours to manage to make them rhyme, but also because I poured my little four-year-old self into them.
That day I found out how powerful words can be. And even if I didn’t thoroughly understand the superpower that I had discovered, I kept doing it. I kept writing poetry, and I still do because it is an awesome tool to get to know yourself. For me, it has always been easier to understand what I feel through poetry.
And since now I have nothing left to say, I will end this post by showing you one of my favorite poems written by Xavier Villaurutia. It is called Nocturno Estatua:
Soñar, soñar la noche, la calle, la escalera
y el grito de la estatua desdoblando la esquina.
Correr hacia la estatua y encontrar sólo el grito,
querer tocar el grito y sólo hallar el eco,
querer asir el eco y encontrar sólo el muro
y correr hacia el muro y tocar un espejo.
Hallar en el espejo la estatua asesinada,
sacarla de la sangre de su sombra,
vestirla en un cerrar de ojos,
acariciarla como a una hermana imprevista
y jugar con las flechas de sus dedos
y contar a su oreja cien veces cien cien veces
hasta oírla decir: «estoy muerta de sueño».