Wordsmith Wednesday: Poem XXII

I’ve been terrified

by things many

but nothing

has shaken me

like

how much

I love you.

Written Lovers

Written words

are lovers,

climbing into your heart

and changing

who you’ve

been.

Wordsmith Wednesday: Poem XVI

“What do you have to offer me?” she asked.

Nervously, I answer:

“I function within an economy

of words,

and I can offer you

a library

of books

written about the way

you look tonight.”

 

Mocked

Can you beleive

how they mock me

for the way that I speak?

“Logan uses big words now.”

There’s nothing so

beautifully individual

as one’s pattern of speech,

the path to self-expression,

the words that hang on your lips,

whispering to the listener

the secrets about who you are

and where you’ve been.

It’s ok if I’m sad,

but weird if I’m morose or sullen.

It’s normal if I’m happy

but too much if I’m euphoric.

I won’t reduce my language

just so that you like the sound if it.

 

(I don’t, and would not, hurl insults at another’s self-expression, and I won’t carry shame — or ignominy, if you don’t mind — for mine.)

Touchstone Tuesday: Poem IX

I edit my work,

but not early

as often

as my work

edits me.