Dark Hollows

Tenderly the quiet went
reposed without the least repent,
and noises made from forms well known
cracked eyes glassy as a stone
throws away one’s coin-bought view
to what is thought, is taught, as true
or believe, as might yet be my senses
before they’re caught in lingual fences:
it tells us of some meaning’s sure
doubted essence per the pure,
as if to say with words we can
refine quiet, when it ran
too lightly out the spoken scenes
on where the aires of noises means
nothing but a dark hollow
echoing those winds minds blow…


The form is nice, and well done. The meaning, though, seems a little unclear to me, which of course is natural. Especially since over the last few weeks I’ve been being very critical of words, communication, expression, I get the feeling that this is alluding to the short comings of words- or maybe even how disconnected words are from truth. Again, I coud only be seeing what I want to see, because that very subject has been heavy in my mind for a time now.

Either way, thanks for posting this up and letting me read it.



Thanks, FLD. Yes, I don’t often aim at clear clarity, but try to allow associations of extra-linguistic reference. Disunravelments. Thanks for the thoughts!