ALCHEMY OF WORDSBLOG |
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we do not create words,
we discover them. words have their own identities, their own minds, their own sense of purpose. right and wrong, left and right, true north. we build fences to contain them, they slip through the rails. we lock them in their rooms, they move through walls. they hide under beds, smoke cigarettes in bathrooms. they eat junk food, read dirty magazines. fornicate with other words. we call words to the table. but they may not answer or they may not eat. words play with their food. if you kill their spirit, they die. lying flat on the page, translucent. the dna of words cannot be mapped. there’s only a probability of words. words fold space. bend time. outrun light. -from love jaywalks: poems from the novel Waking Up at Rembrandt’s
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I know why you’ve come.
You want me to tell you stories of dragons I have chased, armor that men wear, castles where we have dwelt. But you must understand time. Time begs no forgivenesses, gives no excuses, won’t be broken. Though the mystics tell me it bends. So be time for me. Just for a minute. A s t r e t c h e d out second. Remember the dream of the blue speckled lizards and find your place in the dry river bed of time. Don’t try to understand the movement of water — it keeps its secrets inside of stones. Its poetry is there for you to read. But only the lizards know why. And something inside them longs to breathe fire into your settled soul. |
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