January 7

comments 17
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Our words may outsize
us, haunt us, outlast us,

but this margin
was too small–

Would that we could all
see how they carry on,

to do due penance,
or to watch them grow,

flow, and divide
as a river forks

to small tributaries,
the open sea.

A word once spoken
cannot be unsaid,

a swoop and curl
that speaks through ink

can’t be erased,
even if thrown away

it wasn’t, then
it was.

At heart, all art
is an act

of effrontery,
an intemporal drop–

We painted our caves,
chipped shapes

into stones,
we left our mark,

nothing could shut
us up, and nothing

ever will.
A drop and a drop

and a drop
cling together–

Dam up the water
and it builds,

and builds,
and builds–

17 Comments

  1. sarasallydavis's avatar

    Love this. One small idea to consider. The language is so fluid and reflective, I was taken up short by the phrase “shut up”. It stopped the flow of my response to the poem for just a second, but it was a small distraction for me. Would you consider trying the two lines as “Nothing could silence/us, and nothing” Instead of a four syllable/five syllable rhythm, it would just reverse to become five syllable/four syllable pairing Of course, it’s just one reader’s response. I realize that “shut up” might be exactly what captures the entire importance of mood and experience in the strongest way, most true and revelatory emotionally. Forgive me. It’s your poem, and it’s a lovely poem in its entirety Thank you.
    Sally

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  2. sarasallydavis's avatar

    I bow to Jeff’s judgment : ) I am way too much into thinking of this as a writers group and I apologize! I’m so used to working with others in my small group and sharing suggestions to ponder and then to play with in my poem or keep as is that I forgot myself. Please forgive me.
    Sally

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