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Zywa Sep 12

counter voices and dancing:

a language tumult.
"La Caravane de la Poésie" in 1999 - With Chenjerai Hove (Zimbabwe 1956-2015), Werewere Liking (Cameroon 1950), Amina Saïd (Tunis 1953), and Thierno Seydou Sall (Sénégal) among others, Antjie Krog (South Africa 1952) recites poems in Kayes (Mali), where the audience communicates with her with "a change of tongue"

Tale "A Change of tongue" (2003, Antjie Krog)

Collection "SoulSenseSun"
Loosen up the tongue
Liven the mind,
Live for the words,
Learn in swift time.

Look for fresh ways
Listen, take care.
Lap up the praise
Love it, despair.

Luck you will need
Laugh at your blunders,
Layered and limitless
Are a languages wonders.
Copyright ©️ Joshua Reece Wylie 2022
I've been  looking at the German language and most recently Spanish again. I lived In South America for 6 months (mainly in Argentina) so the interest was already there for that. I'm not sure where the German came from, perhaps the visit to watch Germany Women against France at the Euros instigated it. Anyway, I thought I'd write a poem in relation to languages.
A Simple rhyming one, but I like how it turned out. It is also my first piece of work for some time, although I have several unpublished works in drafts. These I consider to be better quality and will therefore be sent to publishers when I see fit before appearing on Hello Poetry.

27th Nov. 22
Kitt Oct 2022
I love with a dangerous, reckless abandon
Fire and no hint of shame
Occasionally with a lover in tandem
I’ll be laughing and crying the same
I fall in and out, seeming at random
And play at love like a game

She, however— quite the contrary—
Travels so slowly she’s almost inert
She approaches my cavern, ever so wary
Afraid that, again she’ll be hurt
Time is her friend, the yellow canary
If it falls silent; she’ll up and desert
Courtney Marie Mar 2021
our antique soul
so veracious
cages our dreams and hidden secrets

our soul's a relic
our incarnation
holds all memories back to when our mother tongue was Thracian

our soul has hyperthymesia
mind of an elephant  
writes our life in lyrics to a string of an instrument
The title is Latin
LL Hamilton Jul 2020

"Can I do that for you?"

"Here, let me take care of it."

"Don't worry honey, I took out the trash already."

More than silence.
Space. Freedom. The radiant light crossing the distance between the worries pressing your spine and a task checked off by someone else when you weren't looking.

It is an air valve popping loose.
A throat suddenly choked up even as the tension melts away from your muscles. Sacrificial love replacing the items on your to-do list, one by one. Your mind free to think again, to live again.

An oasis in a blinding desert, planted by another person, fertilized with their perception, and watered with their care.

It's not just that a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. It's that you're now weightless.

They have shouldered your burdens with a tender smile.

They have helped you learn to fly again.
Love Languages Series: II - Acts of Service
LL Hamilton Jul 2020
It is the absence of air - of space.
A twoness made out of oneness, that slowly becomes oneness again.

It is fire.
The light graze of HEAT along the edges of your suddenly tight knuckles. Every pore in your body falls in love in a vivid blur of life.
It's all-encompassing, like how the lazy sunset spreads and pools its searching golden fingers across every living thing, clinging to the earth.

It is a lazy ripple striating across the surface.
The stress leaving your body in waves as they rub your shoulder. It's an intense, firm awareness of every atom in your being, every breath and shift of your limbs a story waiting to be told.
It's a prison and a release when they hold your hand for the first time.

It's earthy comfort and flickering excitement. Heavy heat and grounding warmth. Lightning nerves turn to steady assurance.

Love Languages Series: I. Touch
Andrew Layman Mar 2020
I want to know you
but you are another world away;
a barrier stands between us
my words don't reach your ears.

I need to know you more
to love you better,
or my feelings remain incomplete.

Within your eyes I see a distance
it becomes a cancerous growth,
and our relationship shrinks,
from lack of communication,
redeemable therapy.

The action is mine
a decision held within my hands,
to give away, jettison my pride,
and finally speak to life that you recognize.
Andrew Layman
All Rights Reserved.
N Chairannisa Feb 2020
My words are borrowed,
From the tongues of those
Who stole our freedom.

Yet now I use them,
For my expression
In the name of —

A contemplation on the genuineness of my expression -- is it truly liberation when I exclusively use English, a language widely used by my oppressors?

On the one hand, I have no choice since I'm much more eloquent in English. On the other, even the circumstances that lead to the huge difference in proficiency between English (my second language) and Bahasa (my mother tongue) reeks of privilege. This is a constant dilemma I have when writing about social, economic, or political issues.
samara lael Jul 2019
in english we say i miss you,
like the person you seek comfort from
is nowhere near.
in french they say tu me manques,
like that person
is literally missing
from you.

what i’m trying to say is:
te echo de menos.

you’re not here in my circle of proximity.
you’re too far away to hold close
or kiss,
or even meet for a walk & a talk.

& maybe it’s selfish
or silly
but i find myself  
of you
or how you make me feel

when you embrace me & my being;
talk softly to me & laugh with me;
walk calmly near me
& search for answers in my eyes  

or on my lips.  

we’ll always be friends.
but i think you’ll be that friend
where i feel something more.

safe & calm;
happy & warm;
soft & blissful.

& while i can feel those things
with my friends & family,
it grows differently with you:

a gentle glow of light  
in the depth of my soul,
kindled with every touch;
every word;
every look;
every smile;
every inhale of your cologne.

i hope it never dies out.

i used to question:  
what if it’s just the idea
of you
that i miss
& the short time we spent together
that i relive in my mind?

but i know it’s not just an idea.
because if it was, i would want that  
with anyone who piqued my interest.

but it is listening to music with you
& sipping cider in busy bars with you
& sitting on cold benches conversing with you
& lying breathing with you
& how did it get to this,
when surely you don’t feel the same?

i could see it,  
& maybe you could.
but maybe that terrified you,
or made you think more than you should.

pero que será, será; whatever will be, will be.
the Lord will have his way,
& it’s okay to feel,  
come what may.

so is this simply a nebulous picture
that i once dreamt up on a train?

no, it is you.

    m i s s
Toxic yeti Apr 2019
Why do I want to
Learn Tibetan
Why do I want to
Lear dazongka
Why do I want to learn
And uyger
To connect to my
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