Looking Through Stained Glass

Words
Woman with Microphone

I’m stripped soul-naked standing bare
To a universe made of blank paper
Its mocking nakedness haunts me
Seductively taunts me with its vapor

I see words as pieces of my deepest soul
Shattered apart in my passions throes
Then brought together in a multi-hued mosaic
A stained glass window, if you will, of prose

Words reaching through time with voices of one from long ago
Words reaching for the vernacular of the street griot, ya kno’

Words lose me in the folds of its scripts
And lets me discover myself yet again
Words listen to me when no one else wants to
Words speaks to me in a way no one else can

Sometimes my words scroll across my monitor
To let me say what I want to say
Sometimes I resort to pen and paper,
To express myself in some other way

It sometimes scares me to the core, being so beholden to such
I'm scared of being pushed away, I care for these words so much,

Yes, I cater to word’s selfish lusts
It’s a call I’ll always heed
Words give off a satisfaction
That’s almost carnal in need

But lately my words are not happy
With the scratch of the mighty pen
There’s this new desire to be heard
And it’s a most frightening yen

Paper no longer holds them, my words have something to say
But in the excitement to be heard, words get in their own way

I feared the bleat of vocals failing
Changing the meanings I devise
Yes, my words on paper are lovely
Words from my voice are otherwise

But words have trusted me all this time
In the handling of its care
Spoken word is the natural evolution
If only I take up the dare

So I put my trust in my words, as it puts in me alike
I take a prayer and a breath and step up to this mike

 
Care to Critque or Comment?
Tell me what you think... E-mail me:
raivenne@theraivenne.com

© 2006 Raivenne (All rights reserved)

bird left

::
THERAIVENNE.COM ::
bird right