Everything That Poetry Means to Me (a personal narrative on the influence of poetic tongue)

Verse of the Day: Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good. Romans 12:21

When I started writing poetry, I was eight years old and had made a solemn and rather discomforting discovery: no one really cared about what a child like me had to say and I had no social skills to make friends....I had no way of expressing myself aside from talking and I'd been sent to my room for "talking too much." I sat studying my vocabulary words in the dark with only my lamp light to soothe me...tears fell onto my worksheet and I felt words began to swell in me...and move me to place them on paper...I do not remember the words of my first poem...but I do remember feeling validated through them and I was no longer upset about my predicament of not being heard. This would be the way I spoke, if no ears wanted to hear me, then paper and pen would have my words to have and to hold forever.

By the time I was 13, I'd filled in over 20 journals give or take, front and back..it was the joy of my life, I talked about things no one wanted to hear, all my woes and victories found a home on a blank sheet of paper and I no longer had a desire to share my words with others. As a consequence to such, I became a rather mute and elusive child that would scurry and hide when company came to the house and I would move my seat to the back of the class, I began to wear clothes that swallowed me up and I found comfort in my solitude that always welcomed me with fresh paper and new pens. I was an avid reader and won many book rewards over the course of my childhood.

I remember learning more about poetry during my English class, not being able to conceal my excitement, I asked many questions and showed genuine interest in the topic of Maya Angelo, her poem "Chrystal Stair" grabbed me by the heart and said forced me to write it's song...I did not care about the stares I received or the laughs, whispers and taunting thrown my way...My smile could not be erased and by the time school was over, I had new poetry in my journal and a warmth down to my soul, it was my first time ever having a sense of confidence in my abilities, and the first time I experienced what some would call "true love."

Today, poetry still stands as my very first passion, and I am now the author of my own book of poetry, "The Butterfly that Dreamed of Phoenix Wings." And to just think, had no one ever told me they did not want to hear my words, I'd never had found the strength to see just how beautiful and important they were.

"For the love of life and literature, stay prayerful, stay positive, and write on!"