Tag Archives: Poems

To You Who Gave Me Writing

To you who gave me writing

To my mother who spent hours with brightly colored flashcards

taught me that a semi-circle shape was a “C”

To my grandmother who would trace letters on my back

taught me the touch of words

To my parents who wrote down in my daily journal I what I told them to write

taught me the recording power of words and that my words mattered

To my mother who on that just beginning to cool, hot summer evening in the kitchen

taught me the letters in my name

To my father who would read to me comicbooks from his childhood

taught me that I can be enthralled in compelling stories and heroic characters

To my mother who persevered against my whining in forcing me to read beginner level “Bob Books”

taught me that I can be a critic of what I read but I still have to respect it

To Miss Griffin, my kindergarten teacher, who after reading a story about ducks

taught me that “ing” means action, a verb

To Mary Pope Osborne who wrote Magic Tree House, the first books I ever read and enjoyed by myself

taught me the joy and accomplishment of reading

To Ms. Hinds, my fourth grade teacher, who gave me an assignment to give a biographical speech about someone famous

taught me how empowering public speaking can be

To Ms. Benford, my elementary school librarian, who found for me my favorite childhood author

taught me to try new genres and that “different” can bring some of best things

To Margaret Peterson Haddix who was my favorite childhood author and filled my childhood with characters and situations and words and choices

taught me how other’s writing can touch my life

To Ms. Burke, my fifth grade teacher, who gave me an assignment to write a mystery story

taught me the power and excitement of my own fiction

To Ms. Cothran, my public speaking coach, who saw potential in me and changed a shy, analytical girl to a animated girl and a lover of poetry and my own writing

taught me that my writing impacts others and that I have a voice, so use it

To Ms. Mihocko, my seventh grade teacher, who critiqued me hard

taught me that my style is not enjoyed by everyone

To Pastor Randy who gave my first chance to preach a real sermon

taught me to follow my dreams and to work for the Lord

To Ms. Conley, my freshman english teacher, who opened my eyes to the wondrous world of writing and analyzing literary devices

taught me why and how I love the written word

To WordPress who gave me a way to share my writing

taught me that others value my work and that I should take pride in it

To Economics summer test that hours upon hours spent pointless stem and response that no one will ever glance at

taught me that purpose of writing is to convey a meaningful message that will be read

***

To you who gave me writing

and to all I left out in this poem

I thank you dearly

for writing

allows me to create my world

both in fiction

and not

***

To God who created the heavens and the earth and everything in between

for giving me something to write about

To God who gave me a mind to comprehend writing and all of its glorious intricate relationships

To God who gave the world writing at its perfection, the Bible

To God who allows me to spread His Word through my words

***

To you who gave me writing

To you who gave me the power to change the world

To you who gave me the power to change my life

To you

 

words

Advertisements

Poetry To Me

Why do I like to write poetry so much?

Because I think in fragments

and poetry allows me

to write that way.

Poetry is continuous thought,

one continuous breath

one continuous life

and sometimes

“- , ; : )’.?” Punctuation gets in the way

Poetry flows

like a river

taking turns and

bending bends

but always continuing on

to flow.

Poetry is like a shattered mirror

fragmented and

confusing at times

because of the ability to be

ambiguous;

but all the same time

when a reader reads

the words can be reflected back onto him

showing him his faults and failures

and forming words of affirmation and affection

that dialog or epistles cannot.

Poetry can be shallow as

a bird bath in a drought

or as deep as

a mother’s love

But to the poet

To the poet

everything has meaning

every jot and tittle

word choice

line breaks

Chosen with careful thought

to express an emotion

or moment

so striking it had to be caught.

Poetry is not just about love

(yes this I once did think)

but expressing every emotion

emojis can

and cannot

(hard to believe, I know)

Poetry can be written about

gum wrappers and school hallways

(’tis I who ascribed the words)

or can be penned about

the love of God.

So I have to ask

what is poetry

to you?

 

poetry