For the love of language.


For the sake of the butterflies that flit;
For the honor the ruminants give the grass by grazing-
I return.
Writing poetry is the forehead of the elephant
Too heavy for the little one with constant review.
Only that language is the extension of our lives-
Like the detached tail of a gecko wriggling,
The tail of the squirrel that critics cannot trim;
The itch of a mosquito bite in the space between
the little toe
And the 4th toe,
Impossible to fulfil.
O voice which questions,
Here is my repartee.

About: I have been reading people’s works and experiencing poetry. I’m not sure if it helps. Does confidence in one’s ability to use language deftly ever come? In the meantime,  I write…


View original post


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s