Great poems deliver 
 a few permanent sentences.

 Those that sharpen 
 your mind, 

 soften your stands,
 shake your confidence,

 double your realm of doubts,
 and serve you a blow, 

 throwing you backwards, 
 from their intensity.
 
 The virtue of scarring your psyche 
 with the spell of words.

 Some call it magic. 
 Others genius.

 I think of it as an exhibitionist muse 
 flashing her ankle.

Today, I published my fifth book of poetry. It is a great coincidence that today would have been the 87 Birthday of Sylvia Plath.

Below is the preface of Wildflowers:

Five years ago, I embarked on a journey and a personal commitment to self-publish one book of poetry per year for ten consecutive years. This year marks the mid-point. Over time, I have learned a great deal about the art. I like to think that I have evolved and that my writing has strengthened along the way. My belief that writing poems is a serious business has only deepened.

There is so much that goes into a poem besides the initial spark that inspires the birth of something beautiful in the poet’s head. The initiation indicates a start while its allure, fascination, and breakthrough are encouraging signs to pursue it. The finish line is many drafts away. Like a traveler who endures a long journey before arriving home. Even when at home, another journey starts.

A poem is more like a wedding. The bride has to choose her groom following her heart and be sure about her love for him. Then she spends long days and nights in meticulous planning. At the center of the wedding, there is the newlywed couple celebrating their love, and starting a new beginning. There is great deal of food, drink, and music. Many friends are in attendance including bridesmaids, best men, and guests of honor. All are in their best attire and contribute even so subtly to commemorating this happy occasion. There are the hopeful singles who are looking for love. There is the tipsy uncle who will not follow the carefully rehearsed script from the night before. If we are lucky the best man may spill some beans in his rambling speech after consuming a few drinks. Let’s not forget the mother, her heroic efforts to make this day perfect. I would like to bring your attention especially to the mother as she sheds a few tears when the couple cuts the cake. I like how the mother is never sure that the groom is up to the task of taking good care of her baby girl. I feel the same way about the poet in me.

I look forward to embracing the upcoming five years, hopeful that they may bring gifts bearing promises. Until then, I leave you with these poems of mine. Please be gentle as you converse with them.

Thank you!