I Dream On Words

Last month I shared a poem by James Kavanaugh entitled There Are Men Too Gentle To Live Among Wolves   and also the humorous The Post Office .  Many readers commented how much they liked his style of poetry.  I would like to acknowledge Mr. Kavanaugh by posting another one of my favorites. I hope you will enjoy them as well.

This one is entitled:

I Dream On Words

I dream on words and lick them 

And wonder...

How old they are and

Who created them

When they were only grunts and groans?

 Sometimes I'd rather grunt

Then talk

Because words belong to someone else.

My grunts are my own,

Lusty in my throat,

Strong in my chest,

Born in my belly.

Sometimes I'd rather scream than sing

Because I write the lyrics

To my screams.

I dream on words and lick them

And wonder Who created them

When they were only sobs and signs 

Of savages too proud

To go to school

And learn how other men talk.

My sobs are my own,

Caught in my throat,

Heaving in my chest,

Aching in my belly.

Sometimes I'd rather weep than sing

Because I write the music

For my tears.

Will you come tonight

And listen 

To my symphony

Of grunts and groans and weeping?