Being A Poet
Being a poet is sitting beside the fountain at 12am
with two ringgit 7-11 coffee
looking at the polluted sky with non-existent stars
talking about what to do when I make it big.
I want to have a house by the lake
or in the highlands
and do nothing but write all day.
You said that you would promote my poetry collection
on social media
and I said that I would help you sell your novel.
Being a poet is sharing a 9 x 9 feet room with my friends
because we can’t afford to pay rent.
Sleeping on thin mattresses bumping on each other swearing at night
after bottles of Korean beer, Japanese whisky, Russian Vodka
and a plethora of grey cotton candy.
Let’s not forget that one crazy friend who writes until 4am every day,
the light on her laptop gave me a perpetual migraine.
Being a poet is putting on makeup everyday wanting to look good
yet not being able to afford proper brands.
Come midday, the heat of the sun makes my face melt.
Heck, I can’t even afford makeup remover
and I’ve became an expert on makeup remover substitutes:
aloe vera gel, olive oil and even milk.
Hey, at least my skin is smooth.
Being a poet is stopping abruptly
in a dark, dangerous alley
sitting on tin barrels
putting my thoughts into diction;
the possibility of getting rape at the back of my mind,
anything for creativity,
they always called me a creative slut.
Being a poet is trying to make ends meet,
My browser history full of freelance writing sites,
bookmarks full of submission pages
of all sorts of literary journals.
I don’t know whether I’ll ever hit the jackpot
but I’m happy just living like this
clawing closer to my aspirations
because once upon a time,
I only talked about my wildest dreams.
Chloe thinks that she is hardly a poet, but she is glad that she is slowly evolving into one. A confessional Sylvia Plath Wannabe. Her life is not exactly as sad as the protagonist of 'Being a Poet', but the sentiments of the struggles are there.
with two ringgit 7-11 coffee
looking at the polluted sky with non-existent stars
talking about what to do when I make it big.
I want to have a house by the lake
or in the highlands
and do nothing but write all day.
You said that you would promote my poetry collection
on social media
and I said that I would help you sell your novel.
Being a poet is sharing a 9 x 9 feet room with my friends
because we can’t afford to pay rent.
Sleeping on thin mattresses bumping on each other swearing at night
after bottles of Korean beer, Japanese whisky, Russian Vodka
and a plethora of grey cotton candy.
Let’s not forget that one crazy friend who writes until 4am every day,
the light on her laptop gave me a perpetual migraine.
Being a poet is putting on makeup everyday wanting to look good
yet not being able to afford proper brands.
Come midday, the heat of the sun makes my face melt.
Heck, I can’t even afford makeup remover
and I’ve became an expert on makeup remover substitutes:
aloe vera gel, olive oil and even milk.
Hey, at least my skin is smooth.
Being a poet is stopping abruptly
in a dark, dangerous alley
sitting on tin barrels
putting my thoughts into diction;
the possibility of getting rape at the back of my mind,
anything for creativity,
they always called me a creative slut.
Being a poet is trying to make ends meet,
My browser history full of freelance writing sites,
bookmarks full of submission pages
of all sorts of literary journals.
I don’t know whether I’ll ever hit the jackpot
but I’m happy just living like this
clawing closer to my aspirations
because once upon a time,
I only talked about my wildest dreams.
- Chloe
Chloe thinks that she is hardly a poet, but she is glad that she is slowly evolving into one. A confessional Sylvia Plath Wannabe. Her life is not exactly as sad as the protagonist of 'Being a Poet', but the sentiments of the struggles are there.
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