Updated: Apr 22
The prompt for today is Exotic. It made me remember the time when someone called the apartment life I was describing “exotic.” For me, living in an apartment is not only normal, but boring, very boring, and a bit terrifying (neighbours can be scary.) But for her, apartment life was “exotic.”
At the back of my mind, I always thought exotic had a positive connotation, but at that moment, I had a feeling it might mean “weird” or “not normal.” Which made me think, “What is the definition of exotic?” A strange question to ask when you’ve lived as many years as I, I know, I have my moments.
Turns out, the definition of exotic is this: exotic (adj.) /ɪɡˈzɒt.ɪk/ ( by the way, who knows how to read this, really now?) = unusual and especially interesting because of coming from a country that is far away. Yeah, it means exactly what you thought it means, don’t worry, it’s just me.
Well, I am a foreigner in a foreign land, so it should be easy to write An Exotic Poem, right?
Like a drip of a sound
or a fallen leaf rising silently
into the night sky,
you step into the world,
thinking what it was
and what has become.
The fruit is blue when once was red.
The sound hurts just like a yell.
The smell is different, and so are the bricks.
What makes life still feel alive,
when nothing is alike your mind?
It's but the flutter of the wind,
the joyful crash of waves of sea,
the logic behind the streets,
and the foreign sound of the city tongues.
"It is exotic," you tell yourself.
As a prayer of the soul,
begging your mind to go back
to the yearning of the known.
"It is exotic," you just repeat,
a hymn for a scared mind,
a safe and lucky charm.
This is what I feel exotic means now, for me personally, who experienced “exotic” all too long and all too well. Obviously, I could have gone with the official definition, but what’s the fun in following the rules?
I hope you liked this one, and I shall see you tomorrow!