Tag Archives: words

literal translation

frogs/throat.
tasty, like chicken/arid, like the desert, not moist like dessert last night…
I had five spoonfuls of honied caviar
*mmmm, was it good and soothing!
which was differebnt than five days ago.
swallow/tongue.
not the bird/not a cow’s.
it was the spoon that caused it.
it didn’t go down well at all,
in fact i almost ate my words.

© dld o7.24.11

The Stains of My Hard Work

Nothing satisfies me more than stains on my jeans.

When I’m doing pleasurable work out in the yard,

I pull weeds,

sow seeds,

prune trees and sculpt the earth –

You can see how hard I work by the grass stains on my knees.

.

When I’ve tired from so much sun,

my work; however, is not done.

There are still seeds to be sown in the words that I’ve grown.

pulling out, editing, what doen’t belong,

pruning them until I have sculpted

the perfect poem.

This you can see from the ink stains

where the page ends

and the poem is born.

.

-dldselfnarration nov. 24th, 2010

_______________________

T10: Words, Inc., Wednesday: grass and ink

six words 7.

Thoughts become Words become Ideas…Become!

Count Down

first

i wrote

mixed metaphors with

many, many, too many

commas and ands to link

which made for a sinking poem

with nothing said for you to recall

to make sense of it all, I FAILED

to bring my focus to my words

declaring something special, or lfe altering

so now, I am hiding

down in a hole

inside my mind

where words

sleep

– – –

~dld october 18th, 2010

T10 – ‘down in a hole’

Implied Coffee with Sounds of Percolation, Details To Follow

Leafing through the diary,
I found one date that stood out
It was a long entry, so I grabbed a cuppa and proped the pillows

As I read of the tortured soul of a woman in love,
I noticed a smear
The drop of a tear
Evaportaed, yet distinct in it’s outline
It spoke to me with such clarity,

and of defeat

By page six, I became so embroiled in her affair
Her handwriting was beginning to look like mine
and her words,
I could have spoken
If not for the fact that she was of Mandarin origin
and I, a mere Bhutan refugee’s daughter
Meant not to touch the spirit of such deities,

but, I have

This is when it occured to me
That emotions know no language, and
Certainly do not mark separation of one’s wealth.

~dld October 14, 2010
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
T10 Words, Inc., Wednesday:
(1) detail, (2) coffee, and (3) sound