Language


Before language there were
sound-drifts
grunts, groans, whimpering

There was imagination
not yet imagined
A wish was a spell of wickedness
Something dark

Language was an embryo unfurling
inside hot caves
spores of guttural seeds
spit into syllables
The white glue of saliva
held them together

Slowly language spoke
The future
a word-heavy albatross

Regret is not light, it is dark

To drift is to know
the meaning of loneliness

---------------------------------------------

from my book-length manuscript:
'Something Else's Thoughts'

©dah / dahlusion 2014, 2017 a.r.r.

"Language" was first published in
'Jazz Cigarette Magazine'



Poetry by Dah
Read 915 times
Written on 2017-04-25 at 16:12

Tags Dah  Dahlusion  Language 

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Dah
Yes, I agree.

Thank you, Ashe! ––))
2017-04-27



Very intriguing poem. A life without words, spoken, heard or written and read is the deepest sort of loneliness I can imagine. Even as I have wished for silence at times, I cannot imagine total lack of language, our one accomplishment as humanity.
"language was an embryo unfurling inside hot caves" Great line!
Ashe~
2017-04-27


Dah
Thank you Bibek and Ken ––))
2017-04-26


Bibek The PoetBay support member heart!
Hmm. Interesting work. :)
2017-04-26


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
Bravo, poet.
Ken
2017-04-25