To Be One With Words
I published a book of poems back in 2022. I was 21 and fed up with my own excuses.
I kept telling myself I’d follow my dreams once I had a “good job” to support me. Because if you’ve ever met me, you know I love artistry, but being a struggling artist? That’s not for me.
So I did what made sense.
I posted blogs whenever I felt like it and eventually quietly let that version of myself fade. I went over a year without writing a single blog post. I thought I’ll pour into something else. But little did I know writing was my foundation. It gives me energy to do the twelve million other things I’m interested in. So this year I’ve been posting a blog post every week. The most consistent I’ve ever been with writing.
And it’s been fun.
Writing every week gives me a structure I actually enjoy. It feels a little like school, the kind of discipline I thrive in.
But the more I write blogs, the less I write poems.
And I sat with myself today and realized; I think I forgot I’m a poet.
Remembering Poetry
I love poetry.
I used to rap when I was younger. It was fun. I need to get back into it.
But I get bogged down by my twelve million interests. It’s hard to focus on just one thing. So lately, I’ve been trying to commit, be consistent with one thing before adding more to my plate.
But poetry?
That’s not “more.” That’s the foundation. That’s me.
I love wordplay. Rhyme. Storytelling.
It’s beautiful.
It’s art.
So while the weekly blog posts will continue, I have to start making space for poetry again.
Because that’s where I started.
And in honor of me remembering I’m a poet here’s my latest poem…
I find it hard not to believe in Art
Art is something that makes a broken heart whole
You envision a vision that isn’t even clear but yet you can articulate the exact details through the way it makes you feel
When you look at Art it’s the remembrance of how God is real
Cause how can clay, paint, textiles, a voice give you sudden chills
If I died today I would want to come back as Art rather that be words, a song, a painting, a sculpture, a fabric, a hairstyle, oh to be Art
To look, breathe and feel the embodiment of expression as if I had some sort of spiritual connection with the maker
But I do
To be an artist is to be one of Gods called ones
But to be an artist who sells their talents is to be one of Gods chosen ones
To be human
To be alive
To have breathe in your lungs
Is to be art
To be an artist
To be one
To be the image of God
God is art
Art is God
If I died today
And for whatever reason I get to rise again
Return me as art
Return me as the many images of God
So this is me remembering.
I’m a writer, yes.
But I’m a poet first.
And I don’t want to lose her in the process of becoming everything else.
