Written words
Are placed carefully
Like sticks of dynamite
Opening                     ways
Through               mountains,
Positioned without the regret
And *spon-*-ta-^-ne-^-i-*-ty
Of their spoken counterparts
That dance upon the hot air
Of anger or escape the grip
Of ecstasy at risk of losing
Their footing by getting
Caught in the moment,
Torn apart in a futile
Game of tug———
War, unwilling
By a speaker,
A folly raw

Copyright © 2013 Shainbird. All rights reserved.


About Shainbird

"A lonely craftsman putting one word after another."
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Inarticulate

  1. Jason says:

    Love it 🙂

  2. Bastet says:

    Great poem and I love how you’re designing it too!

  3. isikyus says:

    I’m impressed by how much you’ve packed into this poem; each time I read it I see different parts of what it’s saying.

Type me what you think.

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