My second love poem. This one is arguably worse than my first one but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless
I found you,
The earth has been here,
For 4.3 billion years,
And right now,
There are 8 billion people,
But I live at the same time as you,
And I’ve found something within you,
But have you found me?
And have you found something within me too
Updated: Jul 2, 2024
In this short piece piece on my connection with the smell of books, prepare for a journey through different types of smells. Thanks to this experience, I've become something of a bibliosmia connoisseur myself.
Bibliosmia: The unofficial term for the smell of books. A melodic word echoing tales of dusty shelves and literary adventures. As it gracefully flows, it carries the gentle rustle of turning pages, inviting all those who love books to join its harmonious ode to the world of literature.
Ever since I was little, and even to this day, I have always objected to reading books online or through a Kindle. The smooth feel of the pages between my fingers, the satisfying whisper produced when I turned each one, and, most importantly, the enchanting aroma of the books, whether sweet or slightly musty, together create an otherworldly reading experience.
As a child, whenever I went to the bookstore or the library, I always used to sniff the book before reading the blurb at the back. For me, it was never judging a book by its cover, but rather, by its smell. If ever the smell was too old and dusty, it would go right back on the shelf (unless the story was too good to be judged solely by the smell of the book encapsulating it).
Each and every book carries their very own olfactory tale. Some carry the fresh, crisp scent of new ink on new paper, reminiscent of a brand-new adventure. Others have the earthy tones of wisdom, like the whisperings of the library, or perhaps like old friends. At times, an old book may exude a hint of history, a scent that blends the musty allure of time with the promise of forgotten tales.
In a world full of books, every page tells a scented story. Whether it's a fresh novel or an aged tome, the fragrances entwine with the tales within. So, with each turn, let's savor the magic of literature—a realm where the senses and stories come together.
Also, Happy Thanksgiving!!!
The last part of my series, following "Nothing," and "Anything." There's no interesting reason behind the writing of this poem. When my mom told me to write yet another poem, I simply felt compelled to write this one.
Also, the title doesn't completely match with the actual content but it sounded nice so I kept it.
I suppose that it is only fair,
If I write a piece,
On the word “something,”
As I have already written pieces,
On the words “nothing” and “anything,”
Although the reason why I am writing this,
Makes the utmost sense,
That does not change the fact,
That I didn’t want to write this,
Anyways, the word “something,”
Doesn’t really have a clear meaning,
Unlike the other words,
At least in my own head,
In some cases,
This word is basically the same,
As the word “anything,”
It is simply used,
Where the word “anything,”
Cannot be,
In the phrase,
“I want something,”
It makes more sense,
To use “something,
Rather than “anything,
Which would sound like,
“I want anything,”
I personally enjoy this word,
Because when you say,
“I am not doing anything,” Or “I am doing nothing,” You are in fact, doing something,
Hence why I love this word,
It happens to be,
A word of many meanings,
And it will always mean something.