UNTOLD

I feel creative juices flowing
Endlessly through my veins
Cyclical-no stopping point,
no getting off the route.
The energy and potential
It's all there inside
But the names and faces don't come.
The adjectives are missing.
The reasons why don't exist.
The juices flow throughout my body,
leaving me unnerved and unsettled.
Mission left unaccomplished.

And then I'm walking in Hanna Hall
and a vivid memory floods my thoughts.
Whether it is real or not is irrelevant.
It feels real-the people are rich with life,
Their love is strong and their story is
original and beautiful.
A tragic ending makes perfect sense
in the timeline of my dreams.
I envision reading an excerpt of
the lesson learned and I see
young children pondering about
the morals they are coming to know.
But the beautiful story in my mind
does not manifest-it dies.
It goes unwritten and is a tiny tragedy itself-
A wound of my intelligence.
It had been beautiful and fluid
In my mind but lacked the
necessary "electricity" to make it happen.
The energy went wasted-
The tale left unfolded.

Uh oh...there's no looking back now!

So I actually have a blog now. I've wanted to have one for some time, basically to semi-anonymously get out some of my poems/fiction or non-fiction mini-stories/rants etc., but I never took the initiative to actually create one. I have recently delved back into my passion/interest/hobby of writing poetry but I am still not so sure of myself and my writing.

I have always had a tough time sharing my stuff with people, especially since I would otherwise have to do so face-to-face...and when I do get the nerve to do that its like when your best friend tells your choir teacher that you have an awesome singing voice but really you don't (your best friend is slightly tone deaf) and your teacher makes you give a little preview of your "talents" in front of your entire class. Basically, if you can't relate to that, my face gets RED and I suddenly question the use of every word I wrote, and the words "CHEESY" and "STUPID" race through my brain over and over. And when I have to read my work aloud--well, that is a whole other feat that I have yet to conquer. I usually beg someone else to read it while I stare straight down at my hands.

To give my mom credit, she has always been very supportive and enthusiastic about my poetry writing and she has always appreciated my countless poems addressed to her. But, as far as I can recall my mom isn't a literary scholar (this is not to say she is uneducated) and I don't know when the last time was that she studied poetry. Nonetheless, God bless her for being my own little fan. :)

Anyway, over the past couple of years I have posted a few of my poems on myspace but I found that to be sort of annoying for the single fact that most people on myspace are not interested in the ways of expressing your creativity and personal growth. More than that, I don't really want everyone I know on myspace to be able to follow such anecdotes of mine. So I'm choosing a less-public and obvious forum in which to dump out my daily geology-induced bored scribblings.

I finally have a way to relieve some of my built up creative energy/tension. Hopefully it will satisfy.