I thought it would be fitting to do an original of mine, but one of it's earlier drafts. I have recently reworked this poem so it includes both French and English, but rereading it, and making a few revisions, I noticed it works as an English piece too. I also thought that for the first day of a poetry challenge that it was fitting.
Language
I
language is the healer;
the messiah.
he has been there since the very beginning.
II
Language heals us but it also wounds us
Or rather, wounds himself.
Or rather, we wounded him.
Somehow he always returns.
III
Language is bound to eternity.
Language holds the wisdom and folly on his tongue,
and forgotten words on his margin.
What will we listen to?
IV
Language permeates the dark air like a siren.
Language pushes birds around.
Language. Sighs.
V
Language is near, when
Silences stalks us,
Impersonating shadows.
Usurping their identity.
We trip.
We fall. We rise.
We fall, We rise.
Language dusts us off.
VI
Language eludes us in youth,
Haunts us in middle age,
And returns, temporarily,
In death.
VII
Language can be a blind-fold
But language can open eyes.
Language is the healer;
The Messiah,
He has been there since the very beginning.
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Tickle your toes. . .
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RICK: Hey Rick? DICK: Yea, Dick? RICK: See that sky roll on by? (points) DICK: ...Oh, my... RICK: Don't i-t'almost makes yer wanner.... -
driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu... -
lean in a little. say it like it's a secret. make your breath sound like italics. click your tongue against the roof your mouth then you...
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In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but... -
like me- it serves as a question as well as an appropriately foolish letter in bad company it only teams up with words like yodel, ...
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and now that the anger is gone there may be a few more glimpses like looking out of the window through a thin veil of silk. a look in...
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confession is all: it is what my poetry is, and that is my life.
Poets United Contributor
Wow. I am very impressed with this piece. All the sections work beautifully.
ReplyDeleteThanks Suz! What a confidence booster for this piece. :D
ReplyDeleteMy favourite line is "and forgotten words on his margin."
ReplyDeleteI think it's clever. This poem kind of reminds me of Bill Bryson's writing on language.
Also like all of VII. Very well done!
I LOVE BILL BRYSON!! lol
ReplyDelete