“Word-Hoarder” Awoken


 

 

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I try to hear a word in passing,

And pause, looking back

To you,

“Word-Hoarder”

tapping that

Space,

Between breaths,

Silence,

before noise,

matter,

My mind

A surreal zone

Trapped in rough bark,

Plunging in

a vision without emotion,

Stunted roots without time to sprout.

 

How do I live without love,

How do I feed my heart

Without poetry,

A barren limb alive without living,

An Empty cavern dark without phrases,

A broken chant without sound or meaning.

I ask, I demand drumbeats

Driving sharp spikes inward,

Bleeding roots ripping spirals

Of heart breaking turf’s fresh soil,

Up-turned earth ploughing

Unmarked graves of words,

Gutted and unburied.

 

There is no place to turn but you,

A sleeping phantom of deep seed knowing,

An ancient tree with severed branches growing,

An awakening of a thousand sunrises glowing red

Chanting on the tip of a copper tongue,

Shaking free a universe of stars for words,

Pleading with an empty bowl,

Please,

Poetry for food that my heart might be fed.

 

March 22, 2014

 

Poetry

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© Karen K.L.Espaniola and hinarising.com. 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Karen K.L. Espaniola and hinarising.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.