The composition of poems

By May 17, 2021G Spot

By Virginia Jasmin Pasalo


A friend was going through a difficult period in her life, deciding whether she would end or continue with a 7-year-old relationship. The couple decided to cool it off for a while, focus on their personal concerns and explore experiences outside their current circles. But separation is always painful, and I observed that Shiela (not her real name) was overcome with emotion and locked herself in her room, locked her profile on Facebook, and did not want to answer calls from her mobile phone. As I am unable to reach out to her, I wrote a poem and sent it to her Messenger account, and posted it on my Facebook wall:



to love is to walk away

to clear the path

of confusion


to quiet the rain

to complete the burning

let the ashes fall

with the tears


empty spaces

give way to clarity

essential in the first step

to walk alone

or together again


As soon as I posted this, I received several private messages asking if I am okay, and that if I needed to cry, I have shoulders to cry on. I had to explain to three people, that it was for someone close to me who needed some guidance in her hour of confusion. More messages followed, which necessitated a public post on the intent and process of composing poems:

“Poets, and writers in general, do not necessarily write about themselves all the time.  Some poems, written in the first person, are often inspired by the experiences of others, or specifically written for them, to help them heal, or go through their own journeys in life. Some are composed from composite experiences of others. 

I have written as many posts about myself, which my close friends will definitely recognize as my own, having shared common experiences with them in the course of our friendship. 

It is best to look at the poems for their own merits, or as they connect with you, and not as fragments of the author’s personal life.”

Having explained, I wrote another:



words escape when I hear you speak

they get lost as I hear your voice

the soothing whisper of calm

the jasmine of my breath


I see your eyes in every flower that opens

every leaf unfolding

in every branch of the tree that reaches out

to the morning


you are away, but can never be away

a river flowing smoothly on my body

running within my soul

without which I will drown

in despair


How can I lose the music that dances

inside of me?


My private message box is full again. This time, they are asking me if the poem was for someone, and who? I will no longer explain. It is better to leave the matter to the imagination.

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