Realizing you are a storyteller (despite your best efforts).

So, while having a quick chat online with Jimmy Blackwell (...go ahead, click on it and check out some of his writing. Do it.) about writing dialogue for fiction pieces, he said/wrote this particular phrase that jumped up and punched me in the throat. He said, "Rather those who possess the skill to tell a captivating story have the power to tame the world". WHOA! Even though I am total crap at writing dialogue, I know when an opportunity for a poem is knocking on my door. I did what any normal girl would do and proposed that we each take that line and come up with a piece based on it, and then see what happens. We gave ourselves a week.

Well, it has been a week and here is my piece titled, The Storyteller:

Storyteller. Yes, a story yeller.
From the rooftops to the rocking chairs.
I am.
The believer, doer, knower, feeler.
Dream painter, heart healer
risk maker, and love taker.
I am all of this and so are you.

Words falling from my mouth like rain.
Catch them on your tongue; taste my smiles
for they should not be given in vain. Drugged as you want to be.
Numb. My words are equal to and greater than novocaine. 

Hands failing around. Directing this choir of old stories
to be heard by your ears only. Fingertips punctuating each secret
and every joke. Telling you things
I wish you wouldn't know. Didn't know. Won't care.

Story of her and them; but mostly of us.
Of full truths, half lies, mighty tries, of burgers and fries.
Of then and now.
Where and how.
Wasn’t it just like you were there?

Let me tell you one more story. I’ll share,
if you’ll stare
at me just like that for 15 minutes.
This story is like a coat to wear.
I promise. 
Something to hold. 
Keep out the cold.
Like the greatest story you never told
me.
And never will. 
 
Storyteller with magic in my hands.
But the truth is in your eyes
and anticipation in your heart.
Without these stories, these memories, 
I find it hard to trust
that cosmos giggle
that ghosts float
that angels descend
and that lives are lived outside the lines of my college ruled paper.

Won't you let me spin you a tale
using my hair as the fiber that binds us together
like bad magic.
You sing.
I’ll dance.
Just for tonight.

(Here is the link to Jimmy's piece: "More Than Words")