Friday, March 7, 2014

A Wrinkled Notebook and a Long Confession (A Manifesto)

Yep, this is actually me :)

I write because my stories won’t be able to tell themselves once I’m dead.  To ask me why I write would make about as much sense as asking me why I breathe:  to stay alive.  I long to leave something worthy of that life behind.  Perhaps I have decided to become immortal. Words can do that for you, you know, live forever. 

I put my expressions and my emotions and my experiences and my memories on paper because if I didn’t put them somewhere outside myself they’d explode in an alphabet confetti all over myself (and probably my favorite sweater dress).  I have important things to say, letters to write, stories to tell…things I feel called to share, things I hope can touch someone, someway, someday.  I am compelled to offer my reader the many separate pieces of my life, besides, we all dream of living twice, right? 

I write because my poems are my art, the muse of my late-night insomnia, my early-morning anxiety; they are the answers to questions I am afraid to directly ask myself.  They are the long, lingering telephone calls to my own psyche.  I write to preserve all the sacred parts of myself, to elongate the clock ticks so I, in a way, create more time with the people and things I love.  I commemorate the exceptional, exaggerate the forgettable, glamorize the ugly (or vise versa). 

I’ve continued to write over the years in the same way you’d continue to keep in contact with an old friend because many times in my life I’ve felt that my pen was the only sincere confidant I had.  Poetry is a moon to hang my dreams upon, a vast wasteland I water back to life, the child upon my lap that I rock to sleep and jolt awake…an extension of my own soul.  It is the brick building I catapult from in the dark of a deserted night and the spongy safety net that catches me when my legs are too rest-weary of this life.  It is where I land when I yearn for some place dangerous to step into, yet remain intact. 

Each completed notebook is a sixth dimension, the war waged between angels and demons.  The writing process is elemental to who I am:  a girl full of words, scared of the world yet excited to be dropped inside it.


Written for a prompt at dVerse Poets.



8 comments:

  1. "I write to preserve all the sacred parts of myself, to elongate the clock ticks so I, in a way, create more time with the people and things I love."...my favorite line in your confessional manifesto...the words 'preserve, sacred, create and love' tell us all we need to know about why you write.

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  2. So many things here I identify with, so many I would never have thought of. It is clearly unique to you - your own manifesto, your own reason for writing, and I have the feeling it's a document you may return to when you get doubtful, or when life pulls you away to re-inspire you back to your notebooks or keyboard. I loved it.

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  3. Such a great reason to write.. No real choice.. I like the dreaded explosions of alphabet soup,. And yes writing leaves a little bit of ourselves...

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  4. each poem a sixth dimension - i like - and alphabet confetti is cool as well...and yeah... we should make sure our stories are told before it is too late

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  5. long lingering telephone calls with my psyche...ha...i like that....the moon you hang your dreams on...several have mentioned the alphabet soup...ha...i like that....def cool and you stacy.

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  6. Love this, I resonate with so many of the things you write of here. Love hanging your dreams on the moon, the alphabet confetti and the angels and demons.

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  7. I can so relate to this--I think that is why I started writing--then I think I fell in love with it--

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  8. I love your manifesto! I didn't write one (yet). Perhaps yours says it all for me. :)

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Thank you for taking the time to comment, it is so appreciated. Your thoughts and critiques are always welcome! I will be by to visit your blog soon!