Their voicelessness screams to me
I must be their voice.
To understand this, click here.
Month: November 2012
Where Inspiration Lives
In case of books, find your inspiration.
I only was able to read a passage in this book on an author who’s inspiration was his home town. He traveled the world to find himself back to the place that wrote him, and now, through his plenteous, sprawling antique and used book store, he’s rewriting his hometown.
I place this book on the shelves not far from where I found it. This is (one place) where my inspiration lives: The shelves of books.
For this and other posts and pictures by me about words and books, check out my other blog incaseofbooks.wordpress.com
secrets
I am always
(I whisper this in your ear)
(I am always walking around
with secrets in my jacket pockets
secrets that only I know
for only I feel
just this way
about the sound the moon makes
in the water
about the taste
of the air in October
about the feel of
my own blood
running through my
own veins
like a silent river
about the feel of icy metallic
door handles
about the smell of the candle
flame’s smoke and glimmer)
(this is the secret:
the way that eyes feel when their glances hold you
the way that dreams slip through our hair, cascade down our shoulders
and this – the way that wonder rolls like a boulder from a grave
and salvation steps out alive – victorious and scathed.
this is the secret – the knowing
ever in my pockets I am holding.)
telling secrets.
the love of the taste of words
It’s the love itself
The love of the taste of words
The love of feeling them crawl across your fingers, and up your arms and neck,
of feeling them kiss you and bite you
and get in your bloodstream
of feeling the words transform you
by your reaction to their power
of feeling them sizzle and hiss and scream and giggle
and knowing ourselves and our world and our God
because of these
because of these
these
wordswordswordswords
but more than that…
because of this
because of the this thing that cannot be held…
because of the love itself
earl grey
Cupping the mug in my hands
Steam blurs my vision
Earthy sweetness floats
Flavor of black tea and bergamot
Warmth rivers down my throat
for the sake of beauty
The taught muscles in my legs
Remind me of this truth:
We must ache for the sake of beauty.
where-from
AND WHY
when the wide world is lost in this great cavern of doubt
DO WE SIGH
when we know not what we sigh for
nor where-from the sigh is issued …
WHERE-FROM?
by our dreams now dashed?
by our minds whose ambitions have been smashed
in jaded stones made from the remnants of
the idols of the passion of our love.
