Halfway through shaving it came–
the word for a poem.
I should have scribbled it
on the mirror with a soapy finger,
Gone Forever ~~ Barriss Mills
Lately it seems as if words have lost their meaning. Where once there was a wealth, seemingly endless, now there is a dearth. I feel empty. Exhausted.
Mnemosyne has cradled my head and brought me back to places past. Places which I have no desire to revisit. I wake up in the middle of the night to whispered words, the voice my own. Yet they will not stay with me. I force them from my mouth again and again, as if speaking them aloud will transform them into something substantial, some form that I can retrieve in the morning's light. But this is an exercise in futility. What I have left, the gossamer remnants, are scattered on random slips of paper that I leave where they fall.
I find them later and wonder why.
Her memories have been lost in death.
I mourn for them.
My blood runs, thick as stones
The mind's eye is deceitful.
It shows us a face we can live with.
Perhaps I just need rest.
so that we may sleep... when sleep will have us
I have no choice. I can never connect the psyche and the logos in this state.
I will sleep
when the last star
has lost its light
and my love is
wrapped around me
Like my own skin
Let me tell you this once
(I will not be able to say it again):
I have lost the meaning of words.
Heavy, they ripped
away from the sounds,
fell into cracked ground.
Naming ~~ Nancy Mair
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
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9 comments:
I'm sure every writer encounters this from time to time... which I'm also sure doesn't make you feel any better. But this is a beautifully-written post - clearly the words are still there.
Words and their meaning are never lost, though they do change. It is us; the reader, the writer, the thinker, who changes. But don't fret. We all change again.
Rock on!
(and, if you wish to sort of reload your wordings, watch some Deadwood. Interesting styles)
You are a gifted writer Tricia. And even gifted writers need their rest. I am glad you mentioned this. I am sending you love and (((HUGS)))! :)
The amusing thing is that even your musings about struggling to find words are better-written than 99% of the drivel that permeates much of the "blogosphere". For my part, I'm content to read whatever you care to put up, whenever you feel like sharing it -- whether it's timely or not.
-- PB
I second what Panserbjorne said, and Ms. Scarlett and Rex and Michael...I don't have any words either but I always enjoy yours!
Ms Scarlett, I just needed some rest. Feeling much more connected now.
Michael, thanks for the love and hugs. You've known me a long time. I do have to stop and refuel. Gifted writer... thank you. You know the feeling is reciprocated.
PB, that's got to be the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time. Talk like that is enough to inspire me to pull myself out of my funk.
I slept for a long time, woke up feeling better, but it's a bit of a struggle to make my mind go to that place.
This is a fabulous post. So well-written. Reminds me of what John Cage said:
"I have nothing to say and I am saying it and that is poetry."
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