Wednesday, May 1, 2019

LANGUAGE: SPOKEN, WRITTEN. . .OR SPITTING

This post is part of the monthly blog hop/therapy session known as the
Insecure Writers Support Group, founded by the one and only, Alex J. Cavanaugh. If you're a writer, insecure, or just supportive of writers—insecure or not—please join us. It happens
the first Wednesday of each month.
It would be sweet of you to visit at least a dozen or so new blogs and leave a comment. Your words will be appreciated.
Co-Hosts:
The awesome co-hosts for the May 1 posting of the IWSG are Lee Lowery, Juneta Key, Yvonne Ventresca, and T. Powell Coltrin! 
*****OPTIONAL IWSG Day Question*****
What was an early experience where you learned that language had power

The first time I learned language had power...
I was ten — I had written a poem...
Specifically, a poem about my mother.
That’s sweet, you might be thinking.
But sadly, no...
I was mad at her. Very mad! And hurt!!!
But back in those times...
Backtalk and being sassy wasn’t an option...
Because quicker than a paddle smacking a ping pong ball...
Was my mother paddle-smacking my butt.
I also learned at a young age...
That sticking out my tongue and spitting...
Weren’t good ways to communicate either...
Only one **snap** across my calf with father’s belt...
And I never tried those tactics again.
So...
The only safe method to appease my feelings...
Was putting pencil to paper.
And so came this poem:

               UNTITLED
 Her hair is black, her face is white
 Her lips are red, her eyes like night
 The look of death is on her face
 When she is near we'll begin the race
 The race for life, the race for death...
 Breath deep, for it is your last breath. 

Not long after I wrote the poem...
My mother found it when she was cleaning my room.
Bringing it out to me she asked...
“Who is the woman you are referring to?”







That was the day I also learned... 
That there’s not only power in words...
But there’s power in a “look.” 
To this day...
I still write poetry...
Just not that much anymore...
Only during difficult or sad times.
So I guess that’s a good thing.
Not many poems anymore = not many sad or difficult times
What about you?
What early experiences have you had...
That taught you language had power?

Always,
Em-Musing

10 comments:

Sandi said...

😂

I am sorry to laugh, but this was great!

It is an amazing thing how words move people and things. I am not sure if I can pinpoint the time I realized words can bring something to life, but I have seen it.

L. Diane Wolfe said...

Oh no, she found it? Were you punished for it?

Alex J. Cavanaugh said...

So much for being sneaky and writing it down instead of saying it.

Rachna Chhabria said...

I'm trying to control my laughter. Too bad your mother found your poem :(

Anonymous said...

I've been there. My difficult relationship with my mother was not helped when she found an unflattering story about a woman who may or may not have been based upon her. So much for writing as a means of release. But I'm still at it. :-)

Jennifer said...

That's a wonderful poem, even if it you ended up in trouble or feeling guilty about it. It's a lovely way to vent off steam.

Powdered Toast Man said...

I agree. Some looks are more powerful than the actual words.

Karen Baldwin said...

Can i leaave a comment?

Satta King said...

play bazaar
satta king Plan out your day in advance. You can create a to-do list for the items you need to do. This reduces your mind a bit and lets you sleep soundly.

prince said...

satta king
play bazaar If, however, you are more interested in farming than server farms, then the agriculture sector is a better choice.