Monday, April 20, 2009

Lost words

The questions unasked
stand vacant of possibility
like sullen and scuff-shoed
young players never picked
for any team.

Words never spoken,
all those letters unsent:
they all go somewhere to die.

Blind, you feel your way through
your crossroads and I, looking on,
I stomp down my gnawing impatience,
itching to know

what will become of us if you speak,
or if you don’t.

Rachel Westfall
April 20, 2009

(Happily springboarding off the poem Christopher left in the comments of my image poem from yesterday...)


Karen said...

This reminds me of joaquin carvel's poem at Lyrics and Maladies, too, about wishes that are never fulfilled.

Woman in a Window said...

hum, and in turn this made me remember something that happened 23 years ago...and this is how it poem bleeding into the next. Mine is prose though, on my front page if you care to take a look some time tomorrow...the lanky boy one.

I have to admit, I had to read it a few times through to unlock the language. I know your poems are always worth the effort!

Aniket said...

The last line struck a chord with me...

And now I shall ponder on the thoughts it has ignited. :-)

Lisa said...

yes, what if you speak ? what if you dont ? can i bear either, can i bear neither ?

Rikkij said...

The unasked questions, the unspoken words, they are the substance of mystery in relationships. The glue that holds or the light that scatters. That's why they remain quarantined. ~rick

Developmental Reading said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Kelly said...

Sorry about the above comment. That is actually my classroom blog with my students.

I love this poem. I love the idea of a room of forgotten or cast off words, the bones of dead letters. Oh, to be able to go into that room.

I think your poem asks the essential questions, to speak up or be silent. I think this is a question that is especially important for a woman to understand and ask of herself.

Anonymous said...

wow...that is truly amazing.
I love it!

joaquin carvel said...

i think the unspoken words die inside of us.

"sullen and scuff-shoed
young players" is great - so is "I stomp down my gnawing impatience" - love the tension in this.

Erika said...

So beautifully put...
I believe I have had that same relationship.

Crafty Green Poet said...

I recognise those unasked questions, all those things unsaid...

christopher said...

One good poem leading to another, to still another...

Our Planetary Doom

Look what happened when
I finally took courage
and said it to you,
not the damn questions
but the fact of them, always
lurking as they do
near the stars' night roads
to our planetary doom,
to the fate we earn.

Cherie/ Butterfly Dreamer said...

ah yes the unspoken has haunted many of us.

Lost soul said...

Ah....humans and their language and their thought's--Hah!

Much love; much hate; much words; not enough words...better get some sleep...

RachelW said...

Wow, thank you all for your sweet comments... I like to come back and respond to each individually, and somehow I missed these ones. I think life has become too chaotic lately. Time for spring to finish cracking the ice and get on with summer!

Christopher, I need to think over your poem a bit... it is heavy, and could go in a variety of directions.