Why I Write in the Margins of Ordinary Days

When I write, I always wander; I get inspirations from my immediate environment, incidents from days ago, and personal experience, and then I code it to make something meaningful. This is to tell you that every sentence in my poetry has different meanings; it depends on who reads it.

The world isn't ordinary; it tells you things secretly, if only you can be calm and listen —listen to your heart, listen to your environment, and listen to the environment far away from you. And gradually, you start finding patterns, unwritten laws, mysteries, challenges, things that you as a human have the power to change.

The discipline of noticing

Poetry is not a discipline. It's an expression of the inner mind; it is a rhythm. Every song has an owner, i.e., one who dances to it. This is because it has something to say; it may be to dance, reminding you of heartbreaks; for you to show gratitude; and so much more. Poetry isn't something for someone; it is something for everyone.

Anyone can write; even your life is poetry written in so many words, your diary, your day, the month before, six months after (prediction), the news, the old woman thriving to survive, etc. If you don't talk much, it should be a problem. Ensure you restructure them day by day to make readable globally

Writing as a form of listening

The poems on this site come from a decade of paying attention to the people around me, to my own unraveling and reassembling, to the small ceremonies of ordinary life that rarely make it into anyone's highlight reel. If they resonate with you, it's because underneath all our different circumstances, most of us are reaching for the same things: to be seen, to be less alone in what we carry, to find language for the feelings that arrive before the words do.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for letting these ordinary days matter enough to sit with.