Unbridled by Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

Unbridled

Jacqueline Oby-Ikocha

I began reading poetry back when I was about 8.  I had a certain type I liked – “free verse” they called it.  It didn’t rhyme, it didn’t have meters and cadences.  What I considered poetry was the flowing words that would capture, break, open, touch (any or all) of your heart.  Grasping your soul in tight clenches so that your breath can’t even escape, for someone else has felt this same way that you have and put it together in a rhythm that no dance could ever accompany it.  The first book of poetry I had, my mom gave to me on a birthday.  I still have it.  I started writing poetry at the age of 10 and at the age of 12 had worn contests and had a public showing of my written words on display at a local mall.  I’m telling of this, because…