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Word I Am Not

by Rula Shin


What are you, word?
Pretending to BE ME
Using my skin as your cover
Claiming to glide as I did?
You are not my experience
Not what I AM NOW
Aware of my living
In slow motion soaring
With my attention in tact

Word I Am Not
Let be what is
Save not me
For my experience
Is mine alone
An experience inaccessible
Through materialized words

You enjoy imagining yourself
As the poetry that I am
This very moment my presence
Yet poetry am I, and not word

For poetry simply is
That which you simply define
Oh written word! You say everything and
Tell nothing, crushing within me
All that is living, breathing Art!

As Time slows down your boast inflates
Though still you take no definitive shape
Revealing nothing but deceptively vague
shadows and intellectual shrouds
Nothing of what my body senses
No inkling of how my heart cries
All that my being knows
You know not!

Beauty IS and cannot be shared
Yet here lies my sharing attempt
As I give shape to your curves
Begging you to clarify from
Word to word through
Steadily flowing ink what
Remains so distinctly clear
To my being

Will the hearts of poets sing
At the beauty of my being?
Will the thoughts of poets STOP
To grasp this divine moment I am
Floating as I did, in slow motion?

Can you, my word, ever succeed
In transcending the
Preconceived experience
Disassociating from your associations?
Can you, my word, ever succeed
In transmitting WHAT IS?
I am not word, for
Word is not me

07/18/2005

Posted on 07/18/2005
Copyright © 2024 Rula Shin

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by James Zealy on 07/19/05 at 08:15 PM

Nicely said. The words are a vehicle to say what empowers you, but they do not define you. Sometimes we do get lost in the word details and forget the passion. You certainly have captured a passionate moment.

Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 07/20/05 at 01:28 PM

first let me say, you have put your heart into this poem as you usually do, and as well, your usual inquiry into soul and as a free spirit I see words not as fetters but wings, no they are not me, but are tools, as my arms and hands and quill are tools and they are not me, and I question often if me is me, but I sense something and that is what words do, they don't define me but lend themselves in making that effort to discover just who I, or me, may possibly be.

Posted by Laura Doom on 07/21/05 at 06:54 PM

The word 'dichotomy' drifts into mind as this sheet of music creases, then unfolds...we are islands, our connections secreted beneath an ocean of definitions :)

Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 07/22/05 at 04:32 PM

Thought provoking piece Rula, that reinforces the euphamism "poetry in motion." And yet without "the word" how could you have expressed the poetry that is YOU? ;o)

Posted by Ashok Sharda on 07/23/05 at 04:29 AM

Words are what we have at our disposal, to share and express in a general way. But are words capable pf presenting the 'scene', the experience, the perception, the seer or the experiencer sees or experiences? It's a question which bothers every genuine experiencer when he fails to express and share his experience, his 'scene''. Your poem raises this question in no uncertain terms. "What are you words" The beautiful aspect of this brilliant piece is that it's directly addressed to the words in the moments of 'éxperience', when words failed measurably to depict the 'experience', uncommon. One is in a state of wordlessness, sensing but not knowing how to verbalize. Struggling to articulate but all in vain. Words simply fail to appear –" As Time slows down your boast inflates Though still you take no definitive shape Revealing nothing but deceptively vague shadows and intellectual shrouds Nothing of what my body senses No inkling of how my heart cries All that my being knows You know not!" Words are meant to express common experience in a round about way. I am happy/I am sad doesn't speak much nor does it transmit the feeling of pleasure or pain. Words can express known since it is structured on the material generating from the known. It simply fails to express any thing from the unknown, though we do try to express, giving new meanings, stressing, repeating, creating atmosphere by using and repeating the same words, emphasizing, using parables, symbols, analogies, metaphors, but what the word presents is always in a round about way, expressing nothing. "Oh written word! You say everything and Tell nothing, crushing within me All that is living, breathing Art!" and "For my experience Is mine alone An experience inaccessible Through materialized words" There's one more aspect and that is that apart from the word experience, the meaning of a word changes from person to person depending on the association. "Can you, my word, ever succeed In transcending the Preconceived experience Disassociating from your associations? Can you, my word, ever succeed In transmitting WHAT IS? I am not word, for Word is not me " Well, I think I do not have any thing more to add that you haven't said on this issue in this thinking poem of yours

Posted by Glenn Currier on 07/25/05 at 04:00 AM

You make a glorious attempt to put into words that which cannot, of course. You bring to life the process of going from the now of experience to those vessels of vowels and consonants we string along to try to capture meanings. What is lovely about poetry, especially this particular poem, is the way it links the spiritual and the material. Well, to me, that is what art, i.e. good art, does. At the same time, I really love your declaration of independence from words in that they are NOT YOU. But I must say, the way you write them, they definately reveal the beauty that I suspect IS you. Lovely and thought-provoking poem. This one goes into my favorites. Thanks, Rula.

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