Words

words

Words which slither ‘twixt this tooth and tongue
May please or not as the case may be.
The sound of language on the air seems fair.
Take splendid, such a splendid word
Rich in sparkling overtones
Or meaning,
What?
You can say that again.

These intersecting consonants
This chinwag enchantment of verbose skulduggery
Now coalesce in jawbone justifications
Of one irrefutable fact.
It is I!
I, the mouth, who is speaking
Down here beneath the nose.

Pallet, tooth, tongue and lip.
Four cohorts with muse conspire
Articulate a looping string of syllables
Long verbal lines of pendant lures
Cast amongst a sea of ears
Like trumpet seashells tuned to catch
Each regulated tone
With relish to appreciate
The essence of a poem.

 

Dave Tomlin

 


This entry was posted on in homepage. Bookmark the permalink.

11 Responses to Words

  1. Luke says:

    It seem’st
    though might
    the cohorts,
    muse,
    be mightily
    conspiring

    There is a sixth
    that quietly
    sings
    whilst
    whistles
    are perspiring

  2. dave tomlin says:

    Luke – A responce well relished.

  3. dave tomlin says:

    Luke – A response will reli s hed indeed.

  4. Steve Pank says:

    Within a brain
    The shadows of connection,
    An image inside or out
    flows in mind
    Is it there
    Really there?
    Its just a thought – and then another thought
    like a cat brushing past
    floats in and out
    the picture changes
    to another thought.

  5. Luke says:

    And relishment
    appreciated thus

    Even the puss

    the possibility
    of poncing

    No truly
    My heart smiles
    at this

    These words
    dancing

    jiggling

    esconsing

  6. Luke says:

    “Connection”
    becomes fraught

    No

    It becomes fraughter

    If it’s a shadow

    then it’s a shadow’s daughter

    How many cats
    have to sidle past

    before the subtlety’s
    a cliché?

    Yes thoughts come and go
    like yesterday’s snow

    and the pictures look like

    hearsay

    We can’t
    live inside
    this shell
    of fear
    that each picture
    is what will be static

    As my heart opens up
    to
    the fountain
    the cup

    my heart’s no longer
    a part of
    the traffic

  7. neil oram says:

    You surface from solos.
    (Being only buried
    From one delay
    After another).

    No one can be
    Inside the dream.
    And so hello comes
    Being.

    Being
    Without reference
    Bristling
    Raping
    The doll’s head
    Replacing noise
    With nourishing
    Pungent alone-is.

  8. Luke says:

    I am shadow
    corpse
    crepuscular
    remorse

    Posturing hope
    I mope
    wishing to be
    recompensed

    for all the faint hearted losses

    Clawing at
    the ineffable

    no excuses

    still here

    a shadow

    my friend

  9. Luke says:

    Writing
    is over-rated, belated, like such as what was is was there
    no fair
    somehow expectation and assumption
    Destroyed
    your family
    cartons of cuckolds jackdaws of refinement
    bely in solitude
    longing’s demure
    Shat
    no caucuses
    refrain
    wept across caverns deep
    smile yesterday sleep
    Mong
    fear thee
    no lips to silent vow
    Forever
    Jerk
    Longstanding osscillations
    retain urgentness
    Cow
    Wha?
    Splain.
    No
    A sweet refrain
    Bank
    the what’s it caled
    rivers of discontent
    what?
    narrowboats
    rapeseed? fpr that is what i hear it called
    and black
    another dirty word
    Poof Puff
    Buried in the sand
    that’s red sand
    by an
    mysteriouser hand
    Gone

  10. Joss Wynne Evans says:

    Syllables the claws of separation
    shred the sacred vowel.
    And who are we
    to punctuate divinity?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *