syllables and sounds

this was the first thing I put on WC, and it is my redébut!

I am a dealer in words

     A peddler of syllables and bigger sounds

My wares do not come cheaply.

     Culled cold and crisp and candid

Or warm, wilting, wet, wondrous,

     From hearts and feet, broken things and trees.

A mishmash, mismatched, merely masochistic

     Or sounding sonorous, softly slicking back stars

Like liquid lust, ludicrous— longing and lovely.

 

My hands are tired and scratched

     My paper thatched

with ink or blood, or blood made ink,

     Pounding out from the centre of the desired

Money spent, life rent, love hint, leaking vent

     To come out today, to see you come

Out of foggy mist and get the gist

     As you drink my elixir; knowing all the while what tricks ‘er

 

Making form and shape taking, scrawled in hasty night colours

     Packed up and stacked up with care

Full of things of which I should beware

     Lay them out in baskets and bushels

You can break them down and chew them,

     Interpret them and abuse them

But I can only give you what will fill your heart

     With love this strong, I’ll never make a living selling art.

 

But there it is, at last

     My egocentric, selfly portrait

Without a sonnet, binding, or a cast

     These have forever to wait

For I, I am a dealer of words

     A peddler of syllables and bigger sounds.

Reviews

[Bailey]

I love it!!!!!!!! You summarize being a writer perfectly, and you use such wonderful words!!! Good job! :)

[Andromeda]

*applause* me gusta mucho!

[SweetPersephone]

This is amazing. I love everything about it. I'm not very good at doing real critiques, but at least I show my appreciation! Bravo!

[Lydia Shutter]

Indeed, we are all peddlers of words and syllables. We offer them - standing naked in the public eye - for interpretation and rating. We do fill people's hearts...and that is the payment we receive. As you say, you will never make a living selling poetry, but I for one am pleased you peddle your words. These are the lines I would buy in the marketplace of words!
"But I can only give you what will fill your heart
With love this strong, I'll never make a living selling art." Great job, Lydia