A Horse of Another Color

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

Maya Angelou

Think about that. Has there been a time in your life when something catastrophic happened forcing you to make a major life decision, and you found yourself in a new situation with new people, yet, you revealed nothing? On advice of others who were quick to say, “Just move on,” or “It’s an opportunity to start over,” or “Don’t let it get to you,” you bore it all, alone. Have you had a similar experience? Have you remained silent because you didn’t want to bother others or you didn’t think they’d want to HEAR it? 

Maya is right. Silence can be pure agony. Well. She doesn’t have to tell me twice.

Some of you may have seen the poem I posted yesterday. It is called I. Am. Go ahead. Give her a click; the poem’s not very long. OK, now that you’re back, can you tell to whom it may have been directed? Does it scream scorned lover? Brutal landlord? Overbearing parent? Give me your best guess: _______________________.

Blatantly letting it all hang out is extremely therapeutic for some, but I need to mosey. I need time and mystery. There needs to be some question as if something isn’t quite clear. You’ve heard the term ‘fuzzy thinking’? I need fuzzy writing. Then it occurred to me: What better forum to tell a story than poetry? I’ve been trying to suppress a giggle ever since.

I have expanded the blog once again by adding a new category: CREATIVE WRITING. Yesterday’s I. Am. was the first poem I’ve written in some time. After thinking about poetry in general, I realized I’ve been dabbling for years, that I’ve been hoarding. I believe I wrote the following when I was about 12.

“Love is nature’s way, so beautiful and free,

like flowers, trees, and mountains, like you and me.”

~karenlee

My first thought is “Oh, brother,” and I’m a little embarrassed, but it shows I was thinking about rhyming and how words fit together from a very young age. That is a horse of another color.

I dug up my Sanford Lyne book. Inspiring! He authored this book about using poetry as a creative outlet.

This drew me in:

Miss Maya is right; concealing pain is ugly. When we are ready, though, when we dare to reveal, I believe positive changes will occur.

I challenge you to join me in my personal challenge of working through life issues through creative writing. It doesn’t have to be through poetry. It can be any form of writing you choose.

Taken from my front porch hanging basket, maybe the following will inspire (because this is so pretty it hurts):