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Loss of the Love of Language


Here, we see broken hearts bred

By souls left on “read”

By ghastly ghosting guys and gals,

Roused by rather related ruses--

Lovers loving lost languages less

Than the beauty breaking before them.

 

Commercialized beauty; commerce; communism:

The equal dispersal of decimated dreams,

Bought and bargained for before swiftly sold

To turbulent men troubled in tough times

That break them and make them

And hurt and hate--

Hate so hot it breaks and bakes,

Broils and takes,

Toils and roils and rapes

The souls sodden with a superficial sorrow.

Commanded by the country’s mandate

To glean a dream on a ream of the troubled teams

Of humans hunted like hares by harsh hounds

That are society’s brutal bounds

Of propriety and profligates dispersing peace.

 

We navigate this nation driven by notions--

Open arms offering us oceans

Of derelict dreams denouncing the dime--

But broken bells chant and chime

A more sinister song, “save to spend, save to spend,”

So either these eyes must open or those hearts must mend

Or this beautiful language will come to an end

So abrasive and abrupt as this--

 

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Galiantefforts

I am just me, whatever you assume that to be. I was grown out of the Cascade mountains, nurtured with the salty Pacific air. I am a student, a sister, a photographer, and a human being. I am a crow-- a watcher of people and a listener to the wind. I am whatever you percieve meto be.

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