Where Now The Words?

I dived into deep obscurity,
drawn to the lore of my reflection,
lost all comfort and security
beyond the bounds of recollection.

I flailed in realms of isolation,
retreated far from the grasping shore,
embraced the silk of separation,
immersed in silence forevermore.

Lost in the presence of murky dreams,
I felt my way through indigo black,
frontiers of hope and hopeless extremes,
the weight of the world upon my back.

No language, no speech, no judging God,
no mother hen to peck at my soul,
no ruthless advance, no iron rod,
no means of measure for self-control.

No words to gather for gentle ears,
no need for mountains of plaintive verse,
no more the me in levies of tears
behind the half-smiles, the mask, and worse.

A dive so deep, entangled in time,
a peaceful lull this distance affords.
Upend the night, the ledgers of crime.
Where are the warriors?  Where are the words?

The blossom of night blooms in my bones.
The moonlight wakens a thousand swords.
Where sunlight once graced the rising thrones,
where now the rulers?  Where now the words?

Author's Note

Reviews

[R.E. Ray]

Linda, I must ask. Did the photograph inspire the poem or did the photograph come later, as a perfect pairing? As I often do, I studied the photograph first, especially the light, shadows, her expression, and position of her hands and feet. The seven stanzas appear a complete analysis of the photograph.

What you've expressed here is a woman who escaped life by immersing herself into her own thoughts, reflections and memories, not allowing anything but nature's ambient light to penetrate. As we know from being underwater, everything goes quiet, and we quickly become aware of our own heartbeat--and the darkness. It's here we survive or die. Clearly, she survives. As I take from your poem, she's at peace, calm, and confident with her mind and body. She's not in her natural environment but she copes well, better than most left alone in such "waters."

Still, after such an experience, overcoming so many challenges, a person who detaches from others often loses something, perhaps it's sensitivity, compassion or the ability to connect and trust others. The music seems to echo the same. This is so much more than a poem. This is short story, perhaps one still without an ending. Another remarkable work.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

The poem was written first. This is usually the case. Once the poem is completed, I set out to find the perfect photograph and music to go with the poem. What's frustrating is that I can spend days searching for the perfect photograph to match the poem. It's always an instance of "that's the one" for me when I find it. I just intuitively know it's a perfect match, that it represents visually what I have written of in words. I always love that you pay particular attention to this. :-) It makes me feel that the effort is worthwhile. Otherwise, I would just post the poem and not care; but I do. I want it to be a complete experience - words, sight, sound.

Your analysis is rarely wrong. This poem is about my separation from everyone and everything that I knew growing up, leaving that abusive environment the day before my 18th birthday. I never once looked back or went back. You are also correct in that, while you gain from the separation, something is also lost. Since I learned to take care of myself from an early age, the pendulum has swung too far in the opposite direction. The strength gained with independence comes with a fear of getting too close, a feeling of not being worthy enough, and a sense of being disconnected from everything and everyone - a piece of driftwood. As always, I love knowing that you are reading and really thinking about my words. You don't just skim the surface. You dive deep.

[R.E. Ray]

So good to know I read this mostly as intended. Yes, your time spent searching for the right photo is always time well spent. Your poetry stands on its own merit. The photo just gives more life and a mood to your words. I look forward to your next creation.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

I enjoyed this piece of poetry. Your style of writing indeed has a passion to it that speaks directly to the reader's heart. CLE

[poetgurl]

WOW! I find some truth in this write, deep and quite intriguing. Love the pic.

[Beccy]

We are molded by our experiences, bound to the past, regardless of time and distance; the catharsis of poetical expression not gifted to all.

Where are the words, where now? you ask. Inside, waiting for release, is my reply. R.E. has proposed that your poem is about a woman who escapes a life she no longer wishes to lead; and I see from your reply, that as ever, he is so accurate in his thinking. I would agree, yet go even further and say that the ability to put pen to paper is as much, if not more of an escape from the past.

Beccy.

[barleygirl]

Your poem seems to harken to the way I've been feeling lately about the sad demise of civility and so much more. Sometimes it's just too ugly or too contentious "out there" & I just have to retreat to my solitude, to my wilderness enclave, where there are no words to describe the ongoing s**t. As much as I want to respond to it, rant about it, I also do not want to define myself as a writer fighting against the BS . . . sometimes we just need to show how it looks & feels in a better place (which this poem does with grace) Fondly, Margie

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Margie. After watching the impeachment hearings for the last two weeks, I spent the last two evenings watching videos on preceding presidents: Clinton, Bush, Obama. I laughed and I cried watching the different videos. Clinton riding a bicycle through the White House, playing the saxophone; Bush and his paintings of injured/wounded service members, his eulogy at his father's funeral, the video of him in the children's classroom on 9/11 (which inspired my poem "Never Forget and Yet;" and Obama dancing with and telling a 106 year old lady to slow down, Obama bowing down so that a little boy could rub his hair to see if it felt like his own, the Obama hosting of the Bush family for the unveiling of their presidential portraits, etc. What's so awful about today is that everyone looks at everything through the lens of politics, forgetting that every single one of these men are human beings. They are presidents, yes, but first and foremost they are human beings, fathers, sons, brothers, uncles, husbands, etc. None of them are all bad. In fact they are majority good, each and every one. Politics bastardizes them so badly that it's a wonder that anyone would want to be president. I look at Europe. They have the royal family, which is revered. Parliament gets the blame if they don't do what they are supposed to do in representing the people. Here, it's exactly the opposite. Congress is an abysmal failure, always behind the scenes manipulating things; but they are never held to account for anything. We have forced term limits on the president but none on members of Congress. They are, in effect, kings and queens; but the president gets the blame for their failures. Every four years, we elect President Punching Bag; and it's awful. I think watching some of those videos on YouTube would make you feel better. It shines the light of humanity on each one of them; and while I didn't vote for each one of them, each and everyone was my president. I support and pray for each one that is elected, that he will be guided in the right direction for the good of our nation, for all people.

[barleygirl]

Thank you for sharing all this. You have an amazing ability to present a strong point while meandering with vivid examples to support your point, but always coming back to your point using different views or observations. This is the ultimate of a persuasive essay. And you just throw it out there without pre-thought, just a knee-jerk reaction of sorts. It's quite notable. I would bet that half the writers on this website could not write a logical yet heartfelt argument like this if they spent a week on it. President Punching Bag -- you express yourself very creatively, as well as being organized & persuasive! Thanks for sharing. I hope lots of people read this (your poem, yes, but I mean THIS, your response to my review!) besides me!

[NotUsinganymore]

Very interesting poem about life. I enjoyed it a lot. sometimes I wish to escape life.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, JungLee. I appreciate your visit and understand. I think we all want to escape at times.