This summer I have been trying my hand at mastering the new-age art of micro-poetry. Micro-poetry is not new per-se, since Japanese Haiku and other such have existed since the 17th century or further back with the masters like Basho and Isaa juxtaposing the mundane and the deep in terse verse. However, what I am referring to is the new genre of creativity called micropoetry or tweet-sized poetry in 140 characters or less that has taken @twitter by storm.
If micropoetry (like the Haiku) is about saying something with little worry about form and structure, isn’t Twitter an ideal medium? The 140 character limit forces us to synthesize our thoughts and experiences into coherent phrases, and that is one of the main reasons the platform has become so important in a time in which we digest our information in little bite sizes trough social media and other online platforms. The limitation does make us think more concisely and sometimes more creatively. So it makes sense that wanabe writers, poets and wordsmiths would embrace it, precisely because of the character limit.
While it can be quite challenging to convey an emotion, or an experience through pithy verse, what I love most about the form is that it is similar to a photograph or snapshot of a moment in time, that can be captured beautifully, with just words. With poetry filling our @twitter feeds every time you refresh your page, logophiles are continually exposed to the power of words, their nuances, quirks, and their ability to create images and feelings which can only deepen our respect for the art form, as words simple and powerful, give us a creative escape during the average day.
You can check out some of the good work out there by using #micropoetry #soulwords and #madverse or follow me @sydneydxb for some of my attempts. More than anything, I wish you would give it a try and let good poetry give you the kind of creative release that only words beautifully strung together, can give.
The swoosh of pen on paper
or fingers tapping on a keyboard,
fork-lifting the words out of my chest.
If you try,
you can hear more In the gaps of conversations,
In the silence between words,
than in the cacophony of everyday sounds.
caught in tangled branches
liquid ochre poured into my chipped cup
as the scent of tea estates
fills the dining room.