Wednesday, October 25, 2006

Psyche of a Writer

"Words are power."

I crave
the ability to take these
pieces of fury
and shape them,

hold them down,
mold them around into
what I decree,

control the temper, the flame,
curve their cadence to my own
refrain,


whip, shake, fling them at the world
string them like a cord,
taut

then open up my palm and let them fly

to dance across a mauve sunset.

the words and I
the words and I......



"Control the words, control the world."

5 comments:

سهیل پاشازاده said...

/ " Address "

There to you
I left myself

Each night
Exactly at the missing time
The street which reaches you
Passes the smiley windows

And i
Carrying a suitcase
Full of shadow's heaviness
Hindered again
Beneath a benighted lamppost.

Remaining still standing hopeless
At setting the clock pointers
Not to slip over each other
In order to making love
Exactly at the missing time

Ooh,
Not more equanimity
In any patience and song

My poem, even though
Beneath the paper
When bordering to your lovely presence
Gets into fever sore.

crimsonflaw said...

sara, i love this one. only i want it to end in '' the words and i ''

to my crimsonian judgement the poem is breath taking and ends perfectly. the line in bold towards the end somehow seems contrary to the form and flow of this piece.

But that is how i see it. it belongs to you, you created it ...
i only fell in love with it as it flew by...

thanks for frequenting my site. i get to share that world only with you and sara and therefore find it more beautiful still.

your friend
shakir

writerwoman said...

Hi Crimson! How are you doing today?

Anyway, yes I see what you mean about the last line. It is very stark compared to the lyrical lines that come before. But it is meant to end the poem in the same tone as the start where I say
"Words are power."

It is almost like that part and the last line are spoken as historical fact and the middle is my heart speaking aloud.

Anyway, I like that you analyzed my work. I think it is thrillig to pull it apart and look at it closely. It is like written surgery.

Bye for now, friend.

Sara

writerwoman said...

Hello to my friend from Iran who left me a poem. It is sweey of you to share your work. It is lovely. I see a lover's journey in the words.

Sara

Susan Abraham said...

My, my Sara.
Lovely as always
hugs