Where Now The Words?

I dived into deep obscurity,
drawn to the lore of my reflection,
lost all comfort and security
beyond the bounds of recollection.

I flailed in realms of isolation,
retreated far from the grasping shore,
embraced the silk of separation,
immersed in silence forevermore.

Lost in the presence of murky dreams,
I felt my way through indigo black,
frontiers of hope and hopeless extremes,
the weight of the world upon my back.

No language, no speech, no judging God,
no mother hen to peck at my soul,
no ruthless advance, no iron rod,
no means of measure for self-control.

No words to gather for gentle ears,
no need for mountains of plaintive verse,
no more the me in levies of tears
behind the half-smiles, the mask, and worse.

A dive so deep, entangled in time,
a peaceful lull this distance affords.
Upend the night, the ledgers of crime.
Where are the warriors?  Where are the words?

The blossom of night blooms in my bones.
The moonlight wakens a thousand swords.
Where sunlight once graced the rising thrones,
where now the rulers?  Where now the words?

Author's Note

Reviews

[R.E. Ray]

Linda, I must ask. Did the photograph inspire the poem or did the photograph come later, as a perfect pairing? As I often do, I studied the photograph first, especially the light, shadows, her expression, and position of her hands and feet. The seven stanzas appear a complete analysis of the photograph.

What you've expressed here is a woman who escaped life by immersing herself into her own thoughts, reflections and memories, not allowing anything but nature's ambient light to penetrate. As we know from being underwater, everything goes quiet, and we quickly become aware of our own heartbeat--and the darkness. It's here we survive or die. Clearly, she survives. As I take from your poem, she's at peace, calm, and confident with her mind and body. She's not in her natural environment but she copes well, better than most left alone in such "waters."

Still, after such an experience, overcoming so many challenges, a person who detaches from others often loses something, perhaps it's sensitivity, compassion or the ability to connect and trust others. The music seems to echo the same. This is so much more than a poem. This is short story, perhaps one still without an ending. Another remarkable work.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

The poem was written first. This is usually the case. Once the poem is completed, I set out to find the perfect photograph and music to go with the poem. What's frustrating is that I can spend days searching for the perfect photograph to match the poem. It's always an instance of "that's the one" for me when I find it. I just intuitively know it's a perfect match, that it represents visually what I have written of in words. I always love that you pay particular attention to this. :-) It makes me feel that the effort is worthwhile. Otherwise, I would just post the poem and not care; but I do. I want it to be a complete experience - words, sight, sound.

Your analysis is rarely wrong. This poem is about my separation from everyone and everything that I knew growing up, leaving that abusive environment the day before my 18th birthday. I never once looked back or went back. You are also correct in that, while you gain from the separation, something is also lost. Since I learned to take care of myself from an early age, the pendulum has swung too far in the opposite direction. The strength gained with independence comes with a fear of getting too close, a feeling of not being worthy enough, and a sense of being disconnected from everything and everyone - a piece of driftwood. As always, I love knowing that you are reading and really thinking about my words. You don't just skim the surface. You dive deep.

[R.E. Ray]

So good to know I read this mostly as intended. Yes, your time spent searching for the right photo is always time well spent. Your poetry stands on its own merit. The photo just gives more life and a mood to your words. I look forward to your next creation.

[M.]

This feels dark and murky all the way to the end, and the last stanza opens up to the light. You have a gift with your phrasing throughout. So good.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, M. I appreciate the visit.

[Patricia Wedel]

dear Linda Marie... I do feel that we each are born with
an opportunity to see the light. however, due to the
environment we are placed to endure... it can be a struggle
and eventually we determine our own destiny. your poetry has an
aura of heavenly persuasion. truly, Pat

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Pat. I believe there is always light. It burns within us.

[Patricia Wedel]

Lovely to know that the light burns within us...
our mind is phenomenal. There are times when we
actually do see the light. truly, Pat

[John the Baptist]

It is hard to tell the meaning of these words, but the general tone of the poem has an air of depression about it. It has apparently robbed the speaker of words, which may mean an inability to create, something like a block. More than once we hear the question "Where are the words?" And yet this sudden imposition of silence is also described as a "peaceful lull." The last verse indicates the darkness is spreading. I can only hope help is available.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

It's about separation from everyone and everything you've ever known, setting out for life alone, looking back, knowing that those who harmed you exist no more. Those that ruled with an iron fist are dead and gone, while I remain. Thank you for visiting.

[Robert Trakofler]

I'm not gonna speak of the mechanics of your writes anymore because you have established in my mind a level of perfection in that arena and the bunny doesn't want to be a bore:) (I have this song on one of my playlists by the way) I will say that what I feel is such a tremendous release the act of freeing ones self of the things that bound us to a place or a feeling even a belief to allow ourselves to redefine the once static definitions to remold are place in the universe and the courage to embrace in the questions well that is all pure golden revel revelations what a lovely penning and what a lovely place to be, dear dear Linda Marie

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Robert. It's a beautiful composition, isn't it? It feels to me like a battle, a rising up, and victory, which suited this poem perfectly. As always, I appreciate your thoughts on my meager offerings.

[Fran Marie]

. you delve deep into the dark realm into another dimension in this piece the words in rhyme and rhythm are spot on and the photo ..a perfect match for this

nice. work

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Fran.

[Eilis]

I feel a mixture of triumph and contemplation in this poem. There's a sense of moving on which required a certain resolve and strength, and that in that moving on many wonderful things were discovered or gleaned. But, the ending feels a little more ambiguous. As if it's open to be judged by what will still come.

As ever, you offer what my mind processes as an ornate thoughtfulness. Like a fine tapestry with hidden scenes. Something that must be stood before and studied to absorb the entirety of the message. Your last stanza, in particular, activated my imagination. The first two lines of that stanza offer an emotive point of reference that sticks in my head.

Lovely work.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, Eilis. I love the last stanza as well. Like the swords mentioned, it represents triumph over those who were once so "mighty," who ruled with abuse, whose voices are no more. It's my voice that remains. They are lost with time. It's hard to know where and how a poem will end; but for the most part, I always like to impart hope and strength. Thank you for reading.

[Relic]

It sounds as though you were afforded a special journey that brought you back to a different time. As though through meditation you found yourself on another plane far from this one. Nice rhymes and rhythm here.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

This is really about my life's journey and leaving everything and everyone behind that I had ever known growing up, spreading my wings to find my own way through life. I always felt that the path laid before me was not one of God's choosing, and I just felt there was better for me. I was right. Had I not removed myself from that environment and walked away from it all, I would not have become who I am today. I'm not saying that's all that much, but it's certainly more than I would have been otherwise. The separation, time, and distance helped me find my voice. With poetry, I speak. :-) Thank you for reading.

[JTD]

Time and distance are great healers. The sense of introspection and outward projection is great. Time grinds all things to a halt eventually - friends and enemies alike. Strength perseveres and prevails. Write on .....

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you, JTD.

[Curtis.Lenker]

The rhyme scheme of this poem is amazing. I wish I could rhyme as well you this work. This poem Is very beautifully written. Great job here.

[Linda Marie Van Tassell]

Thank you so much.