A Creative Outlet for Mums: Why I Started Writing Poetry Again

By Geordie Bull

I loved writing poetry as a child. It was a form of expression that made me feel free, unencumbered and creative. 

I allowed myself to experiment with words like a painter plays with colour. I won a few awards and was encouraged by teachers and my parents to share my poems. 

Somewhere along the line, poetry morphed from something desirable and good to a self-indulgent, pointless past time. Beyond the angsty teenage years, it felt too vulnerable and unproductive. I packed poetry away with other childish loves.   

A couple of years ago, I noticed a yearning to write poems again and gave into the craving. As a professional writer, my poems seemed silly and not-good-enough, yet I persisted because the act of writing in this way was the only way I could explore ideas and emotions that weren’t logical – things I didn’t yet understand myself. It became satisfying, fun and creative. It helped me to gather the strength to be myself. 

I’ve started owning my desire to write poems again, and encouraging my coaching clients to do the same. Some of the poems they have shared with me have awoken them to their vast inner wisdom and become works of art to be shared. Poems have, many times, become lights in the darkness. 

Poetry writing is especially good for mothers. It can take seconds to jot down the words that form the foundation of a poem, scrawled between feedings, chores or paid work. In such a short time, it delivers a sense of accomplishment in having made something and exercises our creative muscles.  

Poetry writing is especially good for mothers. It can take seconds to jot down the words that form the foundation of a poem, scrawled between feedings, chores or paid work.

By giving ourselves permission to write poetry, we validate our own wellspring of wisdom and nourish ourselves by playing in the world of words. Writing poetry is soul stretching and life-affirming. 

If you feel a spark of interest, I encourage you to begin writing poems and see where the adventure takes you. Here’s one of mine to get you started… 

The Bubble Girl 

By Geordie Bull 

you were born into wrongness 
straight up 
you pointed and screamed 
‘Look at this!’ 
searched the blank eyes of those 
who loved you 
and found no recognition 

there must be something wrong with me, your clever brain said 

in your vast brilliance 
you started work on a bubble  
that would encase your wrong body 
a safe place to live – 
somewhere to contain the unpredictable storms  
that took hold and made 
people look at you askance 

out of sticks and paint and glitter  
You pieced together a bubble that was first acceptable 
then beautiful 

they marveled at your creation 
and its prettiness began to  
muddy the view of what was inside 

as the years wore on  
the soft animal within began to awaken 
it uncurled itself 
and the fiery sting of that first shame 
tapped on the cage of your chest 

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