Sunday, June 24, 2012

Make Sure the Mast

Molten words do pour forth like a spout from
Your cheeks! You do make so much spectacle
With all of your antics, like a great thrum
Of life, a wall of energy, a shoal
Of fish; yet in all of these words is no
Shape or form, no meaning by which a foal
May learn to run his race, no shape! Although
You have taken care to formulate your
Words with ease, and so avoid the dread foe
Embarrassment, escape the critic spore
That sprouts in the light of your mistakes; but
For all of this you lack the filter by
Which words become substance, the who and what
Of an idea! Words poured into a wry
Mold turn the fount of magma into
A stream of knowledge imprinted in rock;
This is how man may to his thoughts be true,
As a man first takes aim before he cocks
The rifle that he holds in his two hands.
So to you must take care to learn your words
With greater care. For a man understands
Little more than what he presently heard.

Make sure the compass of your tongue, and forth
You may go, guided by magnetic north.
For such is structure to a word, it does
So magnify the meaning's heard; because
Of this you must seek to amplify thought
By procuring an amp, one that may, ought,
Deliver a full experience, sound
Our ears with salutations of purpose,
Draw us into a dance, make us resound
With song, remove from us all of the fuss
That once did fill our minds and hearts with fear;
Such is the feeling of uncertainty,
That it binds up what surety draws near,
Like the perpetual tide of the sea.

                   Make Sure the Mast, (c) Luke Bennette, June 2012

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