When love arrives

Due to the influx of posts I see on my Instagram, I learned that Phil Kaye and Sarah Kay of Project V.O.I.C.E performed the last two nights in Manila. And I got curious. What in the world is spoken word poetry(?) was my first question. I hurriedly looked up on videos about it particularly Phil and Sarah’s performance. Here’s my favorite so far.

To be honest, I didn’t get it at first. At all. I don’t know but I was like, where is the magic in that? Why are people flooding their posts with crying emojis? There could be something. There must be something. I listened / watched their performance of “When Love Arrives” quite several times that night. Slowly, I got it.

I listened and allowed myself to be carried by the waves made by gliding words. I followed their course. At times, focusing on the words and what could they mean. Sometimes, I try to imagine how it would like – if the poem is set to real life. Then there are moments when I would just listen to how  the words are intertwined by the poet’s tongue. And I slowly discovered the beauty of spoken poetry.

I have lingered with poems since – starting with the cheesy ones that dealt most with puppy love. Or a mere awkward crush case. Then it grew to something more. I started writing about other things, too: moments with friends, the difficulty of a subject in school, the awesomeness of a professor, the difficulty of times, the love, grace and mercy of my Creator (the longest I have done in years! because so many things to say!), my motion sickness. I’m pretty sure I could write about anything if I will.

One time, very recently – a very interesting coincidence, I must say – I tried reading a book and i had difficulty reading each line, each word. I believe, it wasn’t only my issues with attention span that got in the way. I believe it’s also something else. Then I thought, maybe, after all these years, I really like poetry more than prose. (Albeit it will somehow depend on what type of prose, and I’d really like to read more novels and short stories.) I prefer the lack of words that expresses so much emotion. I prefer running my eyes through the verses, lines in stanzas that tell more than their number. Syllables which are significant in conveying a meaning that is deep most of the time. I like the mystery that surrounds a stanza. I like how there are feelings withheld for them to be felt better. I like how words glide and most of the time, hang, waiting for the reader to make a connection. I like poems.

And maybe I am in love with them; I just didn’t know it yet. But I can feel the love growing. i don’t know if this is serious or only a sort of a fling. All I know is that I’d nestle myself  when the words glide and the words rhyme and I get a smile. Right now, I am discovering its beauty when it is spoken.

Love arrives exactly when love is supposed to, 
And love leaves exactly when love must. 
When love arrives, say, “Welcome. Make yourself comfortable.”
If love leaves, ask her to leave the door open behind her. 
Turn off the music, listen to the quiet, whisper, 
“Thank you for stopping by.”  – Phil Kaye & Sarah Kay, When Love Arrives

P.S. Where was I when they started(?), was my second question. (Late bloomer alert!) Ha-ha!

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