310
the
words and their poem
no
one knows where words are from
those
who say they do
have
simply not dug deep enough
all
credit to them though for digging
no
one knows where words go
the
ones who pray are merely
wishful
we
take those horses for a run
it
must have been the heart let them out
words
once
and upon a time for all
but
whose and why?
and
how
far back?
no
one knows
why
a word means
how
it sounds
you can wow
bow wow
I'm
sure
each
word
had its own tune to begin
some
are still scribbled into air
even
to clear up a doubt
words are with us
though
not to start
they
may not be there at the end
no
one knows how it is we are spelled
the
sound and the sense
we
have by convention
nobody
knows where they're from
but
mainly in falling together's the magic
with
words as with us all
I
prefer no punctuation
it's
just the words rub up, abutt
range
freely on the page
as
they were wont in air
words
always wish a way beyond
they're
forever getting over themselves
but
we're still stuck with them
a
next and a next
and
the one before's
always
still echoing after
without
words
we'd
be less than lost
I'd
like to get my words stuck in your head
without
even a tune
…
I'm doing things the hard way
so
I
scratch around a poem
hoping
to bring its shadows to light
I
fall into the thing
will
I be more than found?
words
show a pale imitation of life
but
it isn't life I want to show
words
in their own deep down
do
me
some days do my head in
the
house is electric in that
nest
it's
every limb's extension
and
what I think, how far
it's
as if the poem were deeper in the page
far
below the surface seen
as
if these signs were
traces
of another journey
(long
since and yet to come are one)
as
if the map were scratched with truth
scraped
over with all the terrors to it
so
the land lay waiting for the words
for
orders to make mean
I
call to words
and
will they come
some
lie in wait
and
some will run
and
with or against
the
grain
just
like the truth
lies
under paint
when
a picture is revealed
like
your face as I caught it once in a dream
and
never in the ever after
have
to get out and breathe with the trees
let
the page be blank again
A cracker! Your fluency and fecundity are startling - so much of interest in each poem - and then there's your energy and appetite. No wonder 'some days do my head in'. I wonder if you sleep?
ReplyDeleteThis poem opens simply with a bang!
So beautiful! The words I'd say to respond would be the Word we came in with, so, to make sure to (un) capture it, I'll not say a word; but Listen to this as if these signs were traces of another journey . ..thank you so, Kit. This- my too tired self- made me cry with the beautiful of it. Your words respite like a tree. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteSo beautiful! The words I'd say to respond would be the Word we came in with, so, to make sure to (un) capture it, I'll not say a word; but Listen to this as if these signs were traces of another journey . ..thank you so, Kit. This- my too tired self- made me cry with the beautiful of it. Your words respite like a tree. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful poem Kit.xx
ReplyDelete