Expression of Writing

An inner pondering on how the art of writing affects me.

Can I write?

What do I write?

How do I write?

Why do i write?

Is the writing worth it?

I can think of no other expression that has captured my life, my heart, my soul more than writing. I do not mean expression as in a word or phrase, but an action. The act of expressing my inner soul, the act of showing the defining of my inner soul. There is no single word or name you can give to the core of an individual because it does not stay the same. As we are always changing: being conceived, to developing, to birthing, to breathing, to eating, to walking, to talking, to loving, to working, to creating, to teaching, to sacrificing, to releasing, to breaking, to aging, to dying, to kneeling. None is the same, none is in a certain order, and none is confined to one exact or single moment. It is all mingling and tangling together. Constant change. In all this turbulence, relentless battling to smooth gliding ebbs and flows’, writing has been my expression. My soul could never communicate through my lips coherently, not through my eyes honestly, but in the act of black ink colliding with a white flowing sea, therein lies the truth of me. Oh how this sweet articulation is suited to me, my soul’s mate, my incandescent lover. Of the few secrets my heart does cover, never wavering in clinging yet hiding it most vulnerable treasure. This lucid diction of mine can never quite quench my thirst. The words are true and bright, but never all the way there. They stop just short enough to describe the being that makes up this soul but not able to show the vibrancy I feel within. I am left wanting, known but not known; for unfortunately, in this skin my expression is limited. The earthly elements have chained its hands. Given the tools to express, but its hands are not able to break free; the heart that knows to fly but is denied. Perhaps my expression will not be fully developed until it loses its barriers that this life carries. In death will I break free? Will I be known in true completeness? Who will know me? A smile creeps upon my face as I write that sentence. For my expression knows the answer, the only one I need to know me, the one that already knows me. It is whom my expression was created and designed by. Perhaps I do not yearn for recognition but atlas reconciliation. Oh what great walls these barriers are. When they come tumbling down, what trail will my expression have left behind? In that, my fear is found. To reconciliation there is only joy, but in remembrance what will be left to look upon? A lie, a stale trail, or worse a void of silence. No words, no imagery, just unequivocal silence. The fear is one of shame, not not having lived, but having lived and never spoke for others to hear.  

Author's Note

I am truly terrible with grammar, you can comment on that if you like though. My first post, feedback is very welcomed.

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

oh yes, a bit of editing might be needed.

but this is real...and this expresses us as poets.

i have been doing this for 45 years...and without it, i would have been dead a long time ago.

writing is a lifeline, it is survival...it is suicide through the pen or the keys rather than literal...
it is taking all the pent up emotions and releasing them bit by bit.
it is living and dying through the word.

it is our expression which in turn can help others cope...it is our rants that others will hear and maybe take action...
we are meant to do this, i truly believe that.

and i really liked the way you express this with this particular piece of writing.

in stream of consciousness, kind of how it feels most of the time.

j.

[Cly Young]

Thank you for your comments! I believe that too, it is a lovely gift.

[Kelsey Rogers]

Your words have moved me. Writing is a force that seems almost magical in the way that it makes us feel and its an honor just to have the ability to be able to craft something, no matter what the quality is. Feel free to send me an RR anytime. I would love to review more of your pieces!

[Cly Young]

Thank you! I definitely will and please feel free to send some to me as well :)

[B]

I guess you are getting to know yourself .......

[sakshi arora]

great expression and i can relate to your dilemma of being a good poet. your words are poetic and beautiful . as its your first poem u are really creative and u have nailed it. would love to read more of your work

[Korin]

first four lines. pretty much explains what most people do before they write. This is a good read. Wanted to let you know that its nice to see new people on here i just signed on yesterday.

[Cly Young]

Thank you! I just signed on Sunday. I like how you can easily see new people's posts.

[Korin]

Indeed. I spend most of my time on her reading other people's work.