Language Poems - Poems about Language

No name no echo only blood flowing skin without edges as you stumble through life the breach within a wound opaque origin before form missing beat when you believe you feel a hollow in the bones uncreated the body before the body....

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Far from the homeland, when lips part to speak, This Persian candy works wonders, magic unique. The spell of Rumi’s verse, of Hafez’ deep art, In distant lands, it uplifts every heart. A potion of love rides this caravan’s crest— Saadi himself boasts of its charm manifest. Open your eyes, and at this threshold stay— The Masnavi begins to tell your tale...

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In rooms where futures are decided, old men argued about small voices, children who had been silenced for a thousand years. "Should we teach them in English, the language of their masters? Or let them speak in their grandmother's tongue?" One truth burned bright: every word they chose would echo in ten million hearts. They decided: Let the Kannada child dream in Kannada first, let the Tamil child sing Tamil...

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avocado-pear bears curvy dark effulgence~ for guacamole...

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Lots of whys in life: Why this, and not that? And, dear Lord, of all Your unlimited whys why on earth this?! And the whens, wheres and hows no less confounding -- explicitly, words do not resolve themselves alone dictionaries often shelf what needs to be actively open and boundless in mind -- the scholar paints their arid landscapes while the poet gives them or-gasm --...

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Nothing lonelier than being alone in a crowd standing still in a bustling sea of aliens they speak their dialects and look right through me as if I wasn’t there Feeling insignificant I don’t belong and everybody knows it like an imposter trying to fit in but wearing the wrong camouflage I try to merge with oncoming traffic but they ignore me and...

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Blasphemy, truly— To treat a poem like lab equipment. Smearing souls on damp napkins, scribbling overwrought sorrows. We are sacred, young lady. Vessles for disciplined sociopaths and occasionally, prophets. Not therapy couches for freshly wrecked teens. Yet here you are— dismantling verses with the rollerball pen from middle school and deliberately gothic tragedies. “I’m figuring it out as I go.” The audacity. But fine, if you’d rather, learn...

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i can write it all down. every syllable, i never got to say. on paper, i’m fluent, maybe even eloquent. but in the room, my tongue turns against me. my throat locks like a vault. i’ve rehearsed it all before. in margins, in drafts, in dead message boxes i watch my voice rot behind my teeth, while everyone else converses. what good is articulation if it only echoes inside my own skull? what...

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A sweet coed from Kalamazoo met a young man in Lima, Peru. But her lack of Spanish made him feel less mannish and hand signs were all they could do....

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water his undertoe where seagulls still cry for his touch on the stiffening mast sails gone sea swept — his shipwreck staging her oars whispers in the water she screams...

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Moshpit Romance two lovebird nerds By:Bird's Eye View The Peasant and Turkey The horse and the Cow churk and ah gimerro Aurelius sow these seeds for me in this rich Rio River mud Aurelius Amadeu Rio Grande Mud to grow his Yamaa Spinach,and Brassicaceae Aurelius pick my greens and rename my brassicaceae to watercress in the rich thick muds of the Rio Grande! Proxima Centauri, Alpha Centauri A, Alpha Centauri B, ...

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Your body remembers it all. whether you do or don’t. Your body remembers the pain you felt. even when you can’t recall. Your body will trigger the flashbacks. and you’ll take them as dreams. Your body will remind you of the setbacks. but you will ignore it. Your body will shut down parts of you, to keep you alive. Your body will speak to you, in...

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The trash bag at my door—gone, someone took it. In the shared hall, I see a ghost from years ago. A glance, three short lines, one long breath— We look at each other like catching, releasing ghosts. Do we both think the other’s faking it? The line between man and phantom is only light. A few ghost-words, truth-words—thank you— Thanks to her,...

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"When our dance of love became frantic, I faltered, and you danced on my grave." *** "How did it come to this, my darling one? We may never know the answer, but with the rain in my eyes, you look so beautiful in red." *** Every direction only led further from you. Every decision was the...

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Second Guessing In To Out Sometimes, I wish… my ears to brain to mouth worked as close to normal as possible. These are the times when I second guess the communication process. Life and communication would be much easier. I often second guess the whole process of information coming in and what I say going out. This...

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