my words

my words


and unquestionably


to compel

my articulation

anything but accidental

the unerring


of soliloquy

my words


execution by elocution

this kind of sermon

anything but devotional

the antithesis

this gift to gab

double edged

my tongue / my sword

my words

massacre by monologue

obituaries written

and rhetoric recited

to perfection

inside my head

just in case

you inspire them

a welcome death

by dictation

my words

a curse

and a blessing

which is worse?

a. duncan, 2017

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Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus || Love is rich with both honey and venom

5 thoughts on “my words

  1. Hm. Which IS worse, to be blessed or cursed with your tongue? I like this. This is how I perceive it, though it may not be intentional:

    I like the religious aspect to it. The devilish sermon, the concept of burying, of death. Very ritualistic. Almost sounds like you / the person within the poem is burdened with choosing between the blessing and the cursed nature?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Fascinating reaction on this piece. Thank you so much for taking the time to read it, to consider it. There is definitely ritualistic aspects at play here. The feeling with which it was composed.. it’s a reflection on the ability to articulate. And the responsibility that comes with that sort of gift. To describe the beauty in something/someone, or destroy them.


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