Daily Archives: September 18, 2012

Writing Me: I Remember {Lindsey}

Writing Me is Bigger Picture Blogs series of writing exercises created to help our community dive deeper into writing, grow creatively, and learn about ourselves and each other. This quarter we are writing from the prompt “I Remember…” and each week we will feature one of our community members.

This week’s post comes to us from Lindsey, who is writing about remembering why she writes… 



I am a writer. I write because I feel compelled to write. I write because the lines and phrases put themselves together inside my mind and beg to be released. If I did not write, my brain might explode.

I write because there are hundreds of people trapped inside me. It is unfair of me to keep them jailed in such a restrictive environment. I write to let them out to explore the world.

I write because children sing jump rope songs and nursery rhymes on the playground, then shoot each other. I write because my son is precious and I want the world to know. I write because the forests are not just trees, they are entire cities. I write because Nature sings her own quiet song that she has privileged me to hear.

But why do I write poetry?

I write poetry because in the lines and spaces I can hear myself think. I can hear my voice reaching out and breaking the mirror that covers consciousness. The fragments escape in many directions as do the meanings of my words. I write poetry because only with poetry can the mundane and ordinary become magical and romantic.

Poetry is a form of expression that lets crazies like me sound like we understand the world, or some small place in it. Or maybe poetry is a form of expression that lets crazies like me prove to the world that we understand nothing and so one day decided to make everything up ourselves. Poetry is the life blood of letters, words, lines, and spaces. Poetry is everything and nothing all at once. Poetry is not just a writing genre, but a living, breathing entity.

Poetry gives me the courage to remember. Poetry gives me the courage to remember on paper. Poetry is a friend, a confidante, and psychiatrist. Poetry lets me take all of my emotions and thoughts and release them to the world as you release balloons to the sky – someone will find them.

Poetry is voice.

Poetry is my voice.


Lindsey writes at Dishwater Dreams. Thank you for your words today Lindsey!