'A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just
begins to live that day' Emily Dickinson
For Emily Dickinson
I will not tally letters up
- or dots, apostrophes,
or add the words typed on a sheet
of prancing poetry.
Instead, I want to simply take
a feeling of the whole
enwrapped in music, rhythms – breaks -
and resonate my soul.
Whilst I was speaking out, it came
- came out, the word I spoke with fear -
and launching easy, voyaged long,
bobbed-on without a care
although I spoke it quietly
rapidly it sped,
roaring through canals and brains
(now I’ve an empty head)
rippling in unconsciousness;
growing, changing, spun
with every breath a further gust
through massive red expansion
and onward to andromeda
spiraling - a twist – and now – a wisp. Away.
Nice!
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