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Rosetta Stone of You

by Rachelle Howe

White noise; your tongue
dribbles down my drums as
you drag a sandpaper mouth across my crippled pride.
Yours holds strong: a fortress: a tower of never having to
lay it down.

Hands clasp over deafening ears; your voice
rings the bells in my cathedral mind.
Stoic, I eye the ten commandments of self-righteousness--
read your credence before offering to right the wrongs,
before throwing the tablets from the mountain of our discontent.

We were capsized and no ark to rescue the
one-two-species of our distrust; the ramble of
a love that speaks in

tongues; white noise and
ushered memories
of being anything being anyone being anywhere
but here.


01/15/2012

Author's Note: So it took me three tries to post this. I think it's a sign.

Posted on 01/15/2012
Copyright © 2024 Rachelle Howe

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Jody Pratt on 01/15/12 at 08:59 PM

"before throwing the tablets from the mountain of our discontent" I love the imagery you've chosen here.

Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 01/16/12 at 12:10 AM

A sign that it's awesome, maybe.

Posted by Mo Couts on 01/16/12 at 12:49 AM

This is awesome. Languages are hard and rewarding to learn...so are people; I get the message loud and clear.

Posted by Lauren Singer on 01/16/12 at 02:04 AM

while the first two stanzas set up a tone that introduce the makings of a beautiful piece, the last two stanzas blow the whole ship out of the water and leave us readers clinging to shrapnel. what a beaut.

Posted by Joe Cramer on 01/16/12 at 07:42 PM

... excellent.....

Posted by Laura Doom on 02/05/12 at 12:33 PM

The geometry of relationships translated from matrix to metaphor--I could approach this from any angle and still it would defy literal interpretation...it's those grey areas that create the lines of graphic displacement
[rampant rambling beyond rescue]

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