Poems are but words caught and preserved
In intricate focus, like insects trapped
Then solidified in crystalline form
Transporting meaning from ancient times
When amber is formed by a random act
(Oozing resin from Primordial trees)
Meaning can be extracted, interpreted
Reliving stories from Jurassic lives
As it is with insects gasping their last
Caught by sticky claws on some vast barked tree
Such preservation is not without cost
And so it is with the writer of lines
Words can beguile, seduce, often confuse
But so much more they can strip the soul clean
And in so doing they lighten the load
Extracting some hurt, cut deep from inside
Like the defecation of ill humours
Expulsion gains relief – in its place
Exhaustion, the shattered carcass of
A soul expressed, dissected and plucked
As scientists extract DNA strands
The reader extracts meaning from letters
Then entire worlds created from words
Language becomes tortured and twisted.
Then looking back after some kind comment
I read again the words I wrote, perhaps
Six months past, the emotions then re-load
And twice-fold the pain I relive again
YOU ARE READING
Still Waters
PoetryA collection of metered poems of life, death and everything in between.
