A Woman of Many Words

I am a Woman of Many Words
I am drawn to all those places
        That words congregate:
                 Libraries and bookstores
                       Road signs and billboards
                             Ticket stubs and subtitles
                                    Nametags and license plates
Each one a journey driving inside me
I am a Woman of Many Words
I love the way the shapes feel in my mouth
The skittle taste of syllables
I am drawn to especially long words
With their phonetic entities stretching out like tentacles to reach new corners of pronunciation
Words like
              Bibliophile and flippant-irreverence
                      Evanescent and Insouciance
      Mellifluous and Effervescent
                                       Mondegreen and Labyrinthine
Words like
Onomatopoeia and Tintinnabulation
I appreciate their weight on my tongue
The way my hands appreciate the thickness that is a fat book
I am a Woman of Many Words
I am attracted to their multitude
The space their figures take up on a page
The calligraphic punches
Typed up by keys
The carefully constructed
Brush strokes
Spouting
What is sure to be, nonsense
But I do enjoy the sound of nonsense in the morning
I am a Woman of Many Words
I cling to the lettered skyscrapers wherever I can find them
Because the familiar scent of scribbles across parchment is comfort food for me
I find them
On the backs of cereal boxes
And in Popsicle riddles
In fortune cookies
And alphabet soup
From magnets on my fridge
To junk food logos
And I hold on to them for dear life
For fear that silence should find me
And leave me empty
For fear it will take away the music of maracas
Made by words
Dancing the salsa inside me

I am a Woman of Many Words
because Words
Answer my Questions,
Soothe my fears,
and Humor my Whims
They are not always Right
But they are always Constant
They are not always Honest, in fact,
Mostly
They Lie
But ever so often
They tell such a Beautiful Lie
That you wish it were true
They sing from the rocks
offering Escape from
Terrifying,
Suffocating,
Mind numbing Silence
that echoes off my skeleton
I am afraid that silence will hollow out my insides
and leave me abandoned
with nothing between my Bow and Stern
my Forecastle all torn up
I am afraid of the skeleton inside me
So I am a Woman of Many of Words
For fear of silence
And contempt for truth
Because my words are sirens
And my shipwreck is home here

There’s something romantic about stairwells.

                                        And something mysterious too.

                                                                              They’re a journey

a winding

          a turning

arduos

        Journey

But perhaps well worth the view

                                                          There’s something artistic about stairwells

                                               Maybe it’s the shadows

                                       and the way

                               they flirt

                 with the light

                                 (like I said there’s something romantic about stairwells)

              but there is some magic there too

Maybe it’s the fairytale

                 the something magic

                                  something tragic

                                             flight after flight

                                                                     a journey

                                                             Roadless and mapless

                                       A dance of torchlight and candle and flame

                                                                                                   I don’t know

                                                                        but there’s something special here

Even the truth pauses if
you ask it for the time; a
woman who is smarter than
you still likes it when you
smile at her; every elevator
stops on more than one floor;
a kiss doesn’t always settle
an argument but it still feels
good; if you take the time to
complain about frivolous
things then you already are
its intended victim; there’s
not a woman alive who can
prepare you for the next one;
you will always be unsatisfied
if you take yourself too
seriously; if you can paint
something that you’ve never
seen then you have an
imagination; if you can paint
something that would unnerve
your mother then you are free;
there is nothing you should
ask of someone if you excuse
yourself from the same rules;
a grown-up desires the same
things but knows too much
about tomorrow; if you think
it is too late to discover your
true gift then you are wrong;
to live life waiting for bad news
is no way to live; to see that
others live the same way is
to know that you are not alone;
there is someone out there
for you but if you keep your
heart to yourself then he
will walk past you like a
stranger on the corner; no
matter how creative you are
someone can do it better; if
your ego exceeds your
capabilities then you will
live a life of delusion; the
best way to become empathetic
is to become obsessed with
describing the feelings of
others; a true artist is always
waiting for the next creation
no matter how great the last
one was; the impatience of
the imagination is unleashed
once you recognize that it
exists; there's always one
more love in your life but you
have to give them the chance
you swore you would never do
again; the day you decide to
justify yourself instead of
challenging your beliefs is
the day you stop learning;
there are three ways to change,
a painful mistake, hearing the
truth from your best friend or
comparing yourself to somone
great but without the desire
to change you will remain as
you were when the truth tells
you that time is no longer its
concern; whatever is lodged
in your mind causes disbelief
in something, but have you
built the wall in the right place?