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  • Writer's pictureTara Pohlkotte

Afterglow: What I Want is a Story to Tell

One of my favorite parts of doing our Live events is how stories create MORE stories. How by coming together to share our experiences, we create a new shared experience. It's this very reason we've started the Storycatchers Live Afterglow series - to capture the beauty and significance that telling our stories brings to both the tellers and the audience that hears them.

Storycatchers' own Katie Chicquette Adams penned this beautiful poem when she got home tonight, and it perfectly weaves the stories and experiences we've shared. Did coming inspire you to write something or to maybe feel something you wouldn't have otherwise? Be sure to send us an e-mail and we'll feature your voice here as well!

What I Want is a Story to Tell

What I want

is a story

to tell:

in the words

of all the songs

I ever learned

or wrote,

the laughter

I wrung from

a feat gone awry,

the lesson

I took from

the words

I ate.

I want to know

all the words


I want to sing

along every

single time;

I want to do

my best, twirling

in my brilliant

dancer’s coat,

to get across that

dance floor

with my dignity,

no matter who

is waiting

in the shadows,

no matter what

fool I make

of myself,

because at least

I am my

own fool.

I want to know

that the sakura

still blossoms,

against horizon

beyond horizon;

I want to hear

the bad news

as good news,

my relief that

warring madness

has not stolen

my horizon

against another

glowing, swelling


I want to laugh

at the folly of

my life--

the truth that

reminds us to be

completely sure

of nothing--

because your

own dog might

abandon you

(it could happen).

I want to laugh

when my best

efforts to craft

childhood perfection

go ironically awry

and result in my

children throwing

rocks at my friends

(it could happen).

I want to sit so still

I forget the time

and listen to all

the old words

assembled in a

new way,

delivered by




voices I might

not have heard

if I hadn’t been

pushed or pulled,

touched on the

arm, prodded

to dare.

I’ll forget the time,

but not the words--

I’ll take them home,

written on the back

of my hand: I could

fill my arms with

all these words,

no matter how blunt

or dark or sweet

or comically twisted.

I want to know

that no matter

where I lie down,

I will get back up--

get up so I can

do it all again,


what I want

is a story

to tell,

and you

to give me

a story to


Thank you Katie for these beautiful words, to all of the tellers who shared something of themselves with us, and for all of you who came out and packed the venue, sincerest apologizes those we had to turn away at the door - thank you for being a part of the story and for carrying that story out into your world.

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