The words clitter clatter in a dissonant, discordant, clashing, bashing fashion
falling in disordered, dilapidated heaps in need of a broom to sweep
them into some familiar shape, to batter them into submission
or failing that to hide them in a dank, dark corner out of sight,
sound, hope. They can lie. One on the other – a frisson,
where a tremor within causes vibrations in the musty air
and sounds are formed that cause us to pause and, eventually, listen.
nice…loke how it comes around to us eventually listening…some great use of sound words through out to accentuate as well…and they can lie…
Thanks Brian, words can indeed lie and do a lot of other things also! Your lines “theres no sound in space/without molecules to vibrate” were the inspiration for the ending of the poem…
Agreed, the consonance of the language here is an excellent method of supporting the theme. Good write.
Hi Samuel, high praise indeed. Thanks for the comment and for the prompt…
The desire to find meaning in even sherds of scattered words comes across so well, even the human propensity to clean up things that they don’t understand, just to make sense.
Hi Chazz, you’re so right, we seek meaning everywhere in every little thing…