Language straining paralytic,
thrashing around in a kerfuffle
of dust and cant and sorrow…
exhausting itself and
still and side by desperate
side with Experience…
As Melody
eludes the lack
of knowing hands
delicate and stands
free and unfettered
and still a Mystery
to Language, to
Experience
Ears made for melodies
run to dance and spin
in the Slanted Dust.
older than language and deeper than words.
our bodies speak a language
long lost, misunderstood.
but still it’s spoken (though unknown)
in body on body (rain on stone)
in lips on lips (sun on snow).
we don’t remember
this language, yet we
cannot ever just forget it.
and so we let someone love us
(or what we think is love, anyway)
and speak what no one really knows.
In flaw on feature,
fail on feelings
and smile on what’s broken.
then sunlight enters thru the window
broken jagged
in the morning
lighting up the world
inside us, and the language
lost forever
sings here once again.
Don’t be afraid to plead–
Be proud to be outrageous so long as
you have regard for “un-with-it” truth.
Say things that are, and are not the same.
Accidental or intentional, internal or external,
or both, it does not in the least represent sloth.
All of us feel losses. And we–we were not robbed
of the pastoral dream of youth–
just the pastoral dream of maturity.
To write in mockery of the system is the ultimate
Slavery to the system, of all things.
To say “I Love You” to language, especially now,
in its decayed condition–
to tickle the ear with musical savvy–
to say that human integrity can walk
hand in hand with responsibility…
It’s a challenge to chaos
Hurled!
Why use language?
Why simply to save the Word.
I’ll say it forever, damn it!
Life in a harsh world IS worthwhile!
Charissa's Grace Notes 
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