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Showing posts from March, 2014

Words, Wizards, Superheros

I love words.

That makes me a wizard. That makes me a superhero. That makes me a builder. That makes me a collector. That makes me an artist.
Words give me my own magic. Words give me my own power. Words give me my own tools. Words give me my own treasures. Words give me my own masterpieces.
Then, my spells can help ... or hurt.  Then, my powers can save ... or damage. Then, my tools can build ... or destroy. Then, my treasures can encourage ... or enrage  Then, my art can lift ... or bury.

How the Hater of Poetry Turned into a Published Poet

I hate poetry. 
     That's not a joke. I despised learning about classic poets, meter, similes, and everything else my mom felt was important for me to learn.       The only time I enjoyed reading poetry was before I knew what it was. I remember when I was a little girl around the age of six. I found a worn, green hardback book stuffed on one of the many bookshelves in our basement. It was my mom's copy of A Child's Garden of Verses by Robert Louis Stevenson when she was a little girl. These poems brought me to a place where my imagination could think of anything it wanted. I loved the feeling those poems brought. I didn't have to know why made the poem make me happy. I just knew it did.       Once, I had to learn the structure behind the words, the rules behind the sound, and the supposed intentions behind the writers, I began to dislike poetry. In fact, I forgot that I even loved poetry at one point. 
     So, writing poetry never became something I enjoyed. Assign…