I burn words out of love to save them from the transgression of definition
out of love for the written word
the word written
love he & she
I wrestle with words to grieve.
it is pouring rain this morning and I am in pieces
like the rain I am scattered
I am broken down in this storm uncertain of direction
here, gaurding your heart,
the seeds grow soft and take hold.
the rain is one soft reminder of the way I’ve seen you move
it is one type of crying that needs to be heard.
so I listen to it’s music through the open window
I am implicated into time.
the birds sound the same sharp song through slivered clarinets
creating a constant shared experience between us
though if you listen to long you may find their laughter has teeth.
I feel walking
stumble when I love
I am still and run.
an ordinary stone sliding from square to square across the flat playing board of city streets,
between buildings.
when I feel love I run
I still stumble when I walk
these words have been purged
from my body as if given in birth
my grieving has come and gone
the rain has slowed and stopped
the birds have brought order to a deconstructed rhythm
their music brings me back
to myself
back to you
revived,
and finally willing
to begin again.
[This message has been edited by vocab (edited 27 July 2001).]
out of love for the written word
the word written
love he & she
I wrestle with words to grieve.
it is pouring rain this morning and I am in pieces
like the rain I am scattered
I am broken down in this storm uncertain of direction
here, gaurding your heart,
the seeds grow soft and take hold.
the rain is one soft reminder of the way I’ve seen you move
it is one type of crying that needs to be heard.
so I listen to it’s music through the open window
I am implicated into time.
the birds sound the same sharp song through slivered clarinets
creating a constant shared experience between us
though if you listen to long you may find their laughter has teeth.
I feel walking
stumble when I love
I am still and run.
an ordinary stone sliding from square to square across the flat playing board of city streets,
between buildings.
when I feel love I run
I still stumble when I walk
these words have been purged
from my body as if given in birth
my grieving has come and gone
the rain has slowed and stopped
the birds have brought order to a deconstructed rhythm
their music brings me back
to myself
back to you
revived,
and finally willing
to begin again.
[This message has been edited by vocab (edited 27 July 2001).]
