I was never much given to boasts,
Or cooking large beef or lamb roasts
But I liked to eat men
Just now and then.
I like them with butter on toast!
I liked to eat bread and red jam
When mother ran out of her spam
So I grew very large
As big as a barge
Still I’m happy just being who I am
Are vocations still options today?
Do you get one if you never pray?
I wanted my own
But I should not moan
I find it takes me all day being gay
After silence
Words fell from my lips.
I was a god
I created everything.
I spoke and each word
Was a new world.
Words fell from my lips like a silver stream of beauty.
I was a god.
We were all gods.
We created worlds.
Words touch the secret core
At the heart of the other,
Or they violate it.
“Too many words” hits me like a bullet.
I need silence
And one word,
To call me into being.
God breathed
And the world breathed.
Speaking is like breathing,
But is more than breathing.
Words sail out
Like boats crossing the sea
On a breeze of breath.
A word from a man came at me.
Like an arrow,and pierced me
With sharp sorrow.
Only a few have the true voice,
The voice that does not harm
The highest calling of the mind
Is to choose the words that free or bind.
Without choice words in true design
Human beings will be quite blind
After writing about maps I began to write about words.Words are very powerful in any kind of society but more so in a highly literate one.Words can be sacred or mundane.They can be loving or heartbreaking.And in English we have so many of them because English was developed from several other languages….Anglo-Saxon,French,Latin,Greek,Celtic…..so more than one word for some things.Here in this poem I compare words to birds [ geese ] flocking into the sky like words flock into our minds
Words rise up like geese at dawn
When with pale sun new day is born
The words approach and dance in line
The choice of words is mine
Words spelled here by sense and sound
In clause and sentence weave around.
Which tempting words shall I now use
And which shall I refuse?
The fire lights up inside my heart
So now my writing hand can start/
I sit down at my desk and say
“This is the way I spend my day.
With words I sing and play!
Here I talk about words as if they had a physical existence and can stroke my mind and give me pleasure like a cat can get from gentle stroking.I treat words as if they are real things which they are when spoken out loud.And someone’s voice can soothe you if they speak mellifluously.
Words mark the page and stroke my mind,
And sentences are words combined,
So,many brushstrokes make a shape,
And round my mind the sentence drapes.
Words from farthest realms of mind
Are drawn to me by this design.
How my heart speaks 