We tell stories. Stories in poetry, stories at the water cooler. Yeah, we tell stories. I like to tell stories in poems. I’m always encouraging children to write a poem because through poetry we can get our feelings out, words to heal ourselves. Some of my favorite poetry tells stories, like the Highwayman, or The Raven. I admire those who can tell a story.
Have you told yourself a story lately? Have you bore your deepest feelings, your heart pumps and after you read it a few times you can rest. That is what it’s like for me when I write a poem, a story or a speech. I wake up in the night and words come in my head and run down to my fingers. I find that the desert is great inspiration, especially in the morning, quiet a few sounds around me. I’m not the only one who writes poetry stories. Here’s one by a local girl who already graduated.
“First day jitters”
By: Stephanie Stever
Its 4am wake up! What should I wear? Stumbled out of bed, “Oh lord look at my hair.”
Its 6am catching the bus, off to high school would I fit in? Would I be cool? Or dull.
Its 7am and the bell has rang. It all of a sudden hit me like a big bang.
My nerves rattled and I shook. Time to sit in class and hit the book.
Entering this new world of peers. Had me questioning myself as I look in the mirror.
Am I good enough? Will I seize the day? Or will I crumble under pressure and lose my way.
Much more work to be done here. Unlike middle school where the fear felt less near. As the day went on my thoughts became afar. I had become relaxed and less jarred.
Its 2 pm time to go home back to my roots where I know I could roam.
The first day was rough but I was tough
All I know is I survived Serrano high.