Tag Archives: words

Words Create

Words create reality

Words create the perfect romance

when the author has never felt the touch of a lover

Words create the image of the stary night sky

when the author has never seen the dark

Words create the empowerment and remorse of murder

when the author has never washed off bloody hands

Timeless_Books

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Parched

Her words are the Pacific, Indian and Atlantic all pooled into one and I have never been so thristy. But drinking salt water only makes one more parched. Although, in this case, that is completely fine because I still have one hundred and forty-five pages left.

ocean

Indulgy/TerrilnVA

War of Words

Fire!

Our tongues are our triggers,

that we are more than willing to let our bullets fly.

The bullets lodge themselves in hearts, souls, and minds

inflicting their wounds of –

“not good enough”

“stupid”

“coward”

“worthless”

“weak”

“fat”

“unlovable”

“ugly”

Our bullets sting and kill

They kill dreams and self-esteem and goodness and respect and happiness and control and hope and success and love and peace and optimism and confidence and courage and possibly life itself

but we shoot our guns without care to aim

We shoot because we love the noise

and the kickback that maybe,

just maybe,

it might dislodge our own bullet wounds.

We fire harsh words

and nasty phrases

and angry sentences

and expletives

We fire because we can

and we fire because society says so

and we fire because everyone said it is okay

and we fire because what else were guns made for?

There are sharpshooters

so that no one can know where the bullets come from,

and there are silent handguns

so that no one can say they heard the bullets too,

and there are machine guns

so that they can shoot as many as possible,

and there are shotguns

so that they can inflict the most damage with only one shot.

We,

as a species,

as a society,

as a community,

as individuals,

have mastered the art of inflicting pain.

The bullets are smooth and shine in the light,

and whisper to us to fire them

to shoot

to shoot

to shoot until you can’t feel your own bullet wound anymore.

But we forget that the bullets lose their luster when covered in crimson.

We carry these bullet wounds with us,

they are the first set of eyes to welcome us to the morning,

they are sitting in the passenger seat on the way to work

they are tying our shoe laces together on the way down the street

and yet

and yet

and yet we cling to our guns

that if we fire today our own wounds might hurt less.

I believe that language

whether it is Spanish

or German

or Japanese

or Swahili

or Sign language

is the best invention ever.

It gave birth to everything there ever was or will be,

because language gave the ability to cure smallpox’s and bake cakes and drive cars and read bed time stories

At the same time, I believe

that it is also the worst invention ever,

because language gave the ability to create nuclear bombs and convince us that smoking isn’t bad and tell little girls that they shouldn’t play with Lego’s and tell lies

But language is needed

communication is needed

words are needed.

Our tongues will always be our triggers,

and we can’t make less guns

but I just wish there were less bullets flying.

 

 

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Pixabay/user:stevepb

 

What Makes My Heart Beat

The words made my heart beat

The single syllable pumped my very heart – more a soul than a heart

Every letter allowed me to breath

typed

handwritten

spoken aloud

gave oxygen to my lungs, that then flowed to my blood stream

Each sound and symbol that meant something was like blood to my veins

They were what kept me alive

making the day bright

and keeping me through the darkest night

I am not made up of elements

of carbon, and phosphorous, and 75% water

but of letters, and words and glorious ideas

Too often we take these words for granted

Too often we believe that we survive on

food

and water

and a place to lay our head

and not on the form of communication that has been taught to express

our every desire

and mis-desire

Too often

Too often

Too often

The words are what makes my heart beat.

 

words

When Words are Overrated

I find sometimes that I need to create but without using words. Words are practically my life, forging imaginary worlds to communicating for daily needs, but sometimes words are overrated. Each word has a purpose, some way of furthering the message I am trying to get across, but I sometimes don’t know what I want. My mind is whirling too fast to grab the words in the air and transfer them to my fingers.

That’s why I take my time and create using scissors and glue. For Christmas I got “card making stuff” and I knew that I would be good at it, but it wasn’t like I woke up one day and wanted my new hobby to be card making. But I actually really enjoy it! 🙂

I love patterns. I love seeing things go together and creating order. It is something that I have control over and make what I want. I take up my whole kitchen and spend hours folding and cutting and glueing and listening to music. It is something constructive to do while thinking and that often leading to writing.

So on Thursday, I started making cards and then got carried away with this idea. Below is a picture and a poem to follow. Enjoy!

 

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Don’t let the world strip you bare

Don’t let all your leaves fall

Don’t let the pieces that make you you

wither away and die off

Everyone loves the fall colors

because they are different

Not because they are all the same

Even keep the leaves called

Death

Abuse

Depressed

Because they make you you also

Don’t let the world strip you bare.

Wordiness

I have been told that I am too word-y.

My writing is not simplistic enough.

That I should not have to use so many words to describe something.

I have been accused of C. S. Lewis’ term ‘Verbicide’ (the murder of words).

I should practice the skill of brevity in writing something short and succinct.

That wordiness kills

Getting a B- on an essay for no other reason than ‘too many words’

Try my hand at micro-poetry or limited short stories.

So I use my words to explain my side of the argument,

I am a Unhippopotomonstrosesquipedaliphobia

Meaning that I am a person who is unafraid of big words and how to use them.

I strongly believe that one has not truly lived until they have had an emotion that one cannot completely describe in one word.

That is why I must use many words to describe, in detail, my emotions and views on the world surrounding me

There is always more to be added,

somewhere to dive deeper into,

a new angle to perceive upon.

I love words

They are my passion

They are pieces of my beautiful creations

They are tools to explain anything and everything

They are my art form

So why should I not use them to their full capacity?

A person can have too many cats

A person can have too many ugly Christmas sweaters

A person can wear too much make-up

A person can have too much lawn to mow

A person can have too many children

A person can have too many clothes

But can a person have too much chocolate?

I feel the same way about words that most people feel about chocolate

I can never have enough words

So I say,

No, wordiness does not kill

Limitations on words do

It kills off exploration of the world

It kills off questions and answers

It kills off stories and legends

I agree there are times for words and times not

I value silence

I value conversations that have no need of formal communication

I value simplicity

But I would much rather use more words than not enough

and have something needed be left out

So to all the people who have had limitations on their creativity,

I give a battle cry to break your bondage

and write to your heart’s desire.

 

 

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Pixabay/Unsplash

On Paper

On paper it’s so much easier

Thoughts, events, ideas, memories, ideals

all laid out

With a seeming no beginning or end

Placed just so

So much easier than the spoken word

Oral

is jerky

confusing

not thought out

spoken

But writing is slower

more thoughtful

painful

The question will be answered

eventually

no interruptions

On paper it’s so much easier

Thoughts, events, ideas, memories, ideals

all laid out

With a seeming no beginning or end

Placed just so

So much easier than the spoken word