Eileen Manassian Poet Sonnet

Notes About The Poem

What Use Have I For Words

What use are words to me, they cannot trace
The tender touch of fingers on my face
They cannot kiss my lips, they cannot feel
The passion in my heart that’s oh so real

What use are words to me, I need to taste
The rush of flavors of a love unchaste
And lips that linger here and suckle there
The hands that grip my mane of raven hair

What use are words to me, my body aches
For tender love that every border breaks
Or passion’s rush in wanton frenzied need
The intercourse of fantasies now freed

What use are words to me, they can’t caress
My body they can’t touch, nor dreams undress

Eileen Manassian

People sometimes get so caught up in the world of words...they forget what is real.

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Kp Nunez February 2, 2015 at 11:10 AM Joining the group of people who are enthralled by your artistry. I am amazed by the love and camaraderie that sizzles in this virtual soup corner...felt, displayed, delivered, and sent across several continents...through words. I know, not in same context of your poem, but who cares? You are incredibly gifted! 7 and a fav! Warm smiles from the land of thousand isles :D Kim

Charmaine Chircop February 2, 2015 at 5:21 AM Yes Eileen..It is just words,but words are powerful..They so many time capture my heart,my mind and soul,more than the real happenings in life,maybe because they are still the expression of feelings and thought.I f reallife is as beautiful as your words,what magic would that be.An amazing poem..Which keeps me thinking dear.

Arthur Vaso February 1, 2015 at 5:45 PM By the way, I look just like than man in the photo, except I am 2 feet shorter, and 200 pounds bigger and have a completely different face, other than that, we could be Twins!!!!

Arthur Vaso February 1, 2015 at 5:39 PM I am at a loss for words!!!!! :) :) :)

Robert Lindley February 1, 2015 at 5:02 PM I am back again to add this great sonnet to my fav list, was in a hurry to send you that pm and forgot to do so ealier. lol

Robert Lindley February 1, 2015 at 4:01 PM This is a very special write my friend. I'd go so far as to say a masterpiece in sonnet form IMHO.. A7 and pm on the way too.

John Fleming February 1, 2015 at 12:08 PM This is all rather nice, Eileen. I really did enjoy reading it...very passionate! :) john.

Richard Lamoureux February 1, 2015 at 8:09 AM I agree for me I need a combination of real with a spark of imagination to set the flame afire! When the two come together who knows what heights can be achieved.

David Meade January 31, 2015 at 9:11 PM This is a gripping piece . . . words can do a lot of things . . . but without physical meaningful touch they lay flat in one dimension. When the word becomes flesh the spirit is woken up . . . alive. Here's to physical touch Little One. Eileen Manassian February 1, 2015 at 4:25 AM Yes, David...I'll drink to that. I so love physical touch....Oh...I love it when my hair is played with...Oh....it puts me to sleep. It's the most fantastic feeling. My daughter once posted a pic of a baby in sheer bliss to my FB page with this caption: The look on your face when someone plays with your hair...I love to cuddle. I love to caress...I love all those things that are expressions of love. My extended family are all cuddlers. We are very physical. I love that. Thanks for the post. Don't get me wrong...I ADORE WORDS. They are like a cyber hug, but sometimes there is a loneliness that only physical touch can fill. I ask for hugs all the time! ;)

Andrea Dietrich January 31, 2015 at 8:59 PM hmmm, now that picture of that man. Is THAT real??? hahahaha. Not like any I know! HEy, girlie, this is absolutely wonderful. A BIG FAVE from ME. Great rhyming and rhythm and theme. Eileen Manassian February 1, 2015 at 4:26 AM Guy nothing....look at that woman! Good heavens! That is why we dream, woman! :) Thanks for the visit. You are a sweetie pie!

Ilene Bauer January 31, 2015 at 8:00 PM wow! this is just gorgeous, eileen! one of my favorites from you! Eileen Manassian January 31, 2015 at 8:02 PM Gorgeous...That makes me beam. Thanks, Ilene. You are a sweetie pie.

Justin Bordner January 31, 2015 at 7:51 PM We know when love is real...I've never fallen in love with words themselves, instead I have found love from their source Eileen. Poetry is the language of the heart 4 sure! This poem expresses frustration that we all struggle with from time to time, when passion for life craves to be experienced in every conceivable way, when our desires refuse to be satisfied...J.A.B. Eileen Manassian January 31, 2015 at 7:57 PM I fall in love with words. I can't deny that aspect of my nature. My love languages are touch and words of affirmation. Words have an intoxicating power over me....and if the source is true and genuine, then that is a heady mix. I've come to be more discerning. Words of passion and love must be consummated in acts of passion and love...That is the best joining of worlds. Thank you for your visit, Eagle. hugs

Casarah Nance January 31, 2015 at 6:10 PM Wonderfully said! Sometimes we need more than words, but since there are words and you say them so well, I'll take em. :) Eileen Manassian January 31, 2015 at 7:26 PM Thanks, my dear Cas. Very sweet of you....