I am the queen of words,
and their slave.
You come in, and vomit
your words in front of me.
I kneel, sorting through
the sharp shards of words
that cut my fingers,
the dull, slimy words
that choke me. I construct
some kind of story from them,
we construct some kind of story
from them.
I am the witchbitch that built the tower,
and the princess trapped there,
and the wyrm that guards it.
You wrap your arms around your words
and hold them back from me.
I offer you a hundred nuanced shades
of meaning, and still you keep
your mouth closed, lips tight over
clenched teeth, words trapped
in the darkness.
I am the old woman holding out the apple,
and the girl who bites it.
There are words smeared dripping
over the walls of this small room,
there is a stink of them, rotting
in the corners.
There are words floating free
like glistening insects,
rising on shafts of light.
I will make your story.
Linked to Poets United, and to Real Toads, for a Real Toads prompt – words –
Love how you span all the possibilities on what the words are… I think contrasts always work best…. whatever happens silence is worse than most of words.
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This is marvellous!
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‘I offer you a hundred nuanced shades of meaning, and still you keep your mouth closed’.. sigh.. there is so much pain… so much emotion in this!
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This is wonderful. I love the narrator being both sides of each character and love “I will write your story.” Wonderful writing!
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Without us there would be no words or anything said with them, but we are chained to them. Great poem.
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You’re the queen of words …
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Well-done, Sarah! Queen and slave, but bondage that we willingly enter, I think.
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Love this!
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Thank you!
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Your imagery jars the senses and makes me see words in a whole new way.
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Thank you for taking the time to comment. 😊
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Your first lines offer such a wonderful description of the writer-words relationship. We can only master them if we become their slaves. I like that. I like that a lot… for words.
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Yikes! A lot of power there.
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I like “words floating free, rising on shafts of light”. It’s like sending happy into the stratosphere!
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Every mythic face in this pursuit (3d stanza, amen) of words which are no rock n roll show, no sireee, get down in it and say it true. The effluent you reach through to get these is only for the strong of stomach, but what is love, anyway? Transformation from down under. Well done.
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I will make your story.
this is such a brilliant play and push pull, tug …. the exploration of how words come by and come to creation … shaped and formed, sometimes moulded and moldy, but the story is always waiting .. in the wings ….. and I LOVE how you used the word “make” instead of write ….. giving the weight purpose and birth ….. fantastic ending …. wordsmithing in fine fashion
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Thank you so much. I wanted to convey the idea that a story is a constructed thing.
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Words with their immortal and deathly halo! Wonderful!!!
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Yes, they are everything, even (or especially?) when withheld. And after reading this I would trust you to create all my stories.
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A fine read.
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Thanks for dropping by!
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