a taste of poetry…

(2 Oceans Apart)                                                              

 

What are these

but words?

Words

lunging,

tripping,

shaping,

taking form

Words bursting out of themselves

To say all the things

I would tell you

             do with you

             give to you

if

I could.

 

What are these but words

typed

everyday

in one,

sometimes two sittings

Words awaiting a response

of more words

Counted-on

to make

each day whole.

 

And these words

are just words

On a live wire

which brings my words

to you,

your words

to me

And without this live wire

these words would be 

an understanding

which would lay latent

or build tentatively

or die

of the exhaustion

of waiting

Because they would be words on paper

which would travel between us

at a pace

far slower

than the velocity of this wavelength

which has seized us

 

This live wire

wires us together

through time zones

which are radically different

beyond our spaces, which are not consistent

Bringing to life our words

which are sweating

and bleeding

to keep alive  a brief meeting

in which our presences seemed to meld

At a speed quicker than time,

in a language beyond words. 

 

From breathing for breadth (TSAR: 2005, pp. 40-41)

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