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| Title: |
Why The Poet Chose Words - Or Words Chose The Poet |
| Artist: |
The Last Big Secret
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| Copyright: |
Caroline Fox |
| Description: |
About the power of words in our lives and in history
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| Lyrics: |
Why The Poet Chose Words - Or Words Chose The Poet
In my head, to the page,
an electro-crackle - blue flame,
fed by the seasoned wood of words -
the telltale split, growth-ringed logs,
or ancient, black fossil blocks.
Locked within them is the ember.
'In the beginning was the word'
and words were a hidden power
... with us.
They fell like crystals, smashing,
hatching - dried their crumpled-paper wings,
flew ...
buzzed soft moss on permafrost,
gathered, carved with glacial weight,
fell, an avalanche of history.
Jackbooted from dictators' mouths,
they bellowed "I am your dictation!"
Words in chaos, within order
were twisted, de-formed in a torpor ...
and repressed words trapped under tarmac
split the surface, pushed and blistered,
or rose in bubbles from the sea bed -
foamed along the hissing shingle.
But captured words held fast on paper;
and the reader, feeding his imagination,
freed them from their hibernation -
the dark, warm place of sheets and covers.
Words that went before have nourished,
are buried deep in d.n.a. - the chain that spans
the bridge of centuries: I push mine now
to the Arena, that they might jostle, rise and strike -
might be a voice amongst the turmoil -
risked, on the bloody soil of life.
Caroline Fox
November 2003
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