Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Not Aloud

Not Aloud
by Gideon Burton

I'm just not going to say it -- not aloud.
You know how some stuff changes once in words,
how certain thoughts live only in the cloud
of demi-memory, in halves and thirds,
and verbalizing sets perimeters,
commits you to accept or to react.
Crude instruments! As though altimeters
suffice for pitch or yaw. The lens is cracked
that focuses as clearly as a word
defined. Unwind those denotations, blur
and smear the wash of colored music, stir
the safe obscurities: alive, absurd.
     The drums might rhythm smooth our wrinkling brains;
     to speak or write welds thinking into chains.

Photo: Flickr - Thomas Hawk