#stutter
I try to speak, and my tongue tries to run,
and tends to trip when strong words come.
The rhythm and pace of his steps taste
like sweet songs that almost land with grace—
into your ears. But hopefully, you hear
the plopping of boots that my tongue tied loose.
Even when he trips and falls,
know that his words still risk it all.
When his dance becomes daring,
and his stutter turns to swearing,
his beat becomes apparent—
because no words, and no walk,
no pucker nor path
could portray the way my tongue trips up
taking to you at last.
Aug 5, 2025
Aug 5, 2025 at 1:42 PM UTC
Through alcohol my words I stutter
So what if I've turned to another
Vice, don't look twice
On our mistakes, we were meant to break.
And I wish I could still please you
But now I look through
Our veils of betrayal and disappointments
Do you think we can still make amends?
Wish I'd been enough
Wish I didn't catch you laugh
On my pain
Can you handle the blame?
Nov 11, 2024
Nov 11, 2024 at 8:23 PM UTC
Don’t be hard on yourself self
when you talk talk
imagine what you would look like like
if it were a walk walk
you’ll be pacing back and forth forth
tripping over of course course
but only to get up up
and you will get up up
because you can can
you know how to repeat Pete
if you’re as good as as
your talk talk
up on your feet feet
Jan 8, 2022
Jan 8, 2022 at 1:30 AM UTC
A strange soft stirring begins in my heart
I’m not sure what caused this fluttering to start
Like innocence still uncorrupted captured in butterflies
Except my stomach is no longer where the majority flies
But just a little while ago a few still hovered there
But to trap or imprison them I wouldn’t dare
There hides a few more in the lungs in my chest
Only flap wings when I can’t catch my breath
When silence is the single sentence I have to not speak
Your smile leaves me speechless
Knees growing weak
No clock
No noise
All surroundings fade away
Colors suddenly emerge where before was only grey
Waiting for your melodic voice to disrupt that magic spell
Heaven momentarily suspended til one word snaps me back into hell
The illusion of perfection not once falters or affrights
As you come closer the swarm inside my body takes off in simultaneous flight
It’s mindblowing the way my senses react when you are near
How you still manage to give me butterflies even after all these years
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 9:06 PM UTC
<>
11:03 Sun Sep 20 2020
2nd Day Rosh Hashana 5781
S.I., N.Y.
**when I was twenty years younger, I wrote oft introspectively,
nowadays, today, provoked by the High Holy Day, the New Year,**
it is my only filter, lens, and this solitary perspective that this moment affords, permits, demands, commands, insists on,
prepared by this confession, so that I may better return to the union of my divine spark, unify body and soul, recover my true self,
by acknowledging that I am
not beholden to anyone,
therefore, thereby,
beholden to everyone
how inconsistently wonderful that additional experience, alive in a time of upheavals, pushes me past the first stanza, where most often, my poems, prayers, go to rest uneasy, incomplete, only to be buried alive in me.
Yet, here I am stuttering, sputtering, words that come unexpectedly!
I have reached a second stanza, with the ending well sighted, nearby. The collective, overlaid wake of each passing boat, finger pointing, a road line for following, to a larger directive, a river emptying into a great ocean, birthplace & graveyard
premature celebration as it’s weeks till I return to this poem-in-progress on a bleak week, the winterized grays have dominated, the freshness of sunlight is just an occasional peekaboo.
The larger directive now suppressed, the pilings of damp brown leaves, multi-message; funeral. mounds of good days gone to hell, the inward perspective has returned me to a deep, dark place.
(Stutter, stutter, each day asseverates solemnly with tinges of rancor, no, no, no, still no answers yet, the second and third stanzas are ******** suns of no man.)
Dec 19, 2020
Dec 19, 2020 at 9:42 AM UTC
He sang along to the trumpets in his head,
as the radio once did.
"I'll always be there for you,"
He stuttered past his heart.
The coldness locking his beath
in a frozen cloud of smoke
intertwining in the frosted skies,
"Then you told me no,"
His hands quivered in his sleeves where scars left no marks,
while his voice was breaking like broken bones.
He never finishes his dying lyrics,
with the notes dangling in the air,
for someone else to pair.
And an iris left at the stairs.
May 8, 2019
May 8, 2019 at 5:49 PM UTC
Ah.. Ah.. Aaron, I said my name,
Least did I expect that this stutter pushed me to shame;
Alalia syllabaris is a defect,
Still worthy enough for a prefect.
That darned laugh, that lost contact,
Shatters all of ‘em within..
‘Tip of the iceberg’ do we show,
The inner lies within; so little you know.
Parodying this isn’t funny, that interludes,
That seriously hurts dudes.
Stop that mock, bear our shock
Let me see how do you fare,
Mark my words because that’s a dare.
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 12:01 AM UTC
i stumble over my words now.
it's a fight to wrestle them out of my mouth,
when before the flowed out like a river.
i'm fainter now.
it's a struggle to remember
that my new friends don't find me annoying
and that i don't need to lag behind,
waiting for an invitation.
i'm worse now.
summer is ending and all i have to show
is a quieter me
a nervous me
a wish-i-wasn't-here me
a why-can't-i-just-do-something me
a second-rate me
Aug 19, 2018
Aug 19, 2018 at 1:33 PM UTC
If p-people were forms of l-language
I-I am a stutter of a p-person
I am h-h-hesitant
I can't s-seem to ex-express m-myself
It t-takes me a while t-to get m-my p-point across
People laugh in mock-mock-mockery
If people w-were forms of language
H-he is a s-s-song
He flows
He st-stirs the bl-blood in my veins
His rhythm i-is the only thing ke-keeping my heart bea-bea-beating
People s-sing along
I-I am over-overlooked
He i-is surrounded by admirers
I am st-staring at him,
dazzled, st-struck to the b-bone in wonder
He-he-he is laughing,
warmly, dance-dancing to his own b-beat
I am an un-unfinished thought
He is th-the beauty of a-a million harmonies
I
am
b
r
o
k
e
n
He
is
u
n
t
o
u
c
h
a
b
l
e
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC
Synapses roll off the tongue,
Stutter and glitch
Stut-t-t-ter and glitch
Repeat....Re...p-p-peat
Misfired.
You a broken doll
With your bright brilliance.
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 9:26 PM UTC
no darkerpassion had I
what was this
that we could escape
was that my childhood
or his dreams
they call to
me
in
puffed circles
watch my finger twirl
my fingers beneath her skirt
she twirls to me dream like
her lolli-pop kisses
we traded
dreams
for
for for
forlorn
what scorn
she bleeds
to me
pop
cicle
mansions
they drip
from floor
to
floor
bubble gum mistress
chewing on my sleeves
her lovers on my coat tails
hopes she never leaves
perhaps
from
the
distance
we have shared
not the slightest part
of
me
of
me
of
me
no darker passion had I
?
...
..
.
Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 12:53 PM UTC
Good intentions
all misconstrued
to emo-orthodoxy.
Nov 15, 2017
Nov 15, 2017 at 11:59 PM UTC
Re-peat-peat-peat-ing
This…
Is trying for me
Stuttering up the tall trunk
Of a tree impossible to climb
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 6:40 PM UTC
there must be a place where broken words go
the ones without a limb
not fully formed
not spoken right
not heard
there must be a place where broken words go
the sentences left uncompleted
the trailing words that never left the lips
the "but" and the "and"
that were always left hanging
somewhere between silence and speech
there must be a place where broken words go
full of stutters and writers block sufferers
somewhere between the "i love"
and the "you" that never followed
or the "wait"
that was whispered into the air
the "please come back"
that made peace with dying
on the corners of a turning mouth
there must be a place where broken words go
the words spoken but never heard
the letters written but never posted
the train of thought that crashed into the clouds
the words in the bottle that traveled the sea
but sunk to the bottom before it could ever reach
there must be a place where my broken words go
the stains on my diary that didn't come from a pen
and the letters on my thighs that don't make sense
the things i could never say
and the things i said that came out all wrong
all the broken alphabets in my song
that cry for salvation
for one more chance
there must be a place where broken words go
there must be a place i can call home.
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC
I want to break free of your hold
but then I feel you sedate me.
You watch as my heart stutters and folds,
I feel you overtake me.
I fear they will not know what this means,
they'll keep me under their sockets,
barely worth trespassing into their dreams,
I'll learn to keep you in a locket.
I fear falling quiet;
have the years not taught me?
I fear your bipolar climate;
one day you'll strangle me,
I'll stutter through your riot
and starve you with the waves of the sea.
Oct 4, 2016
Oct 4, 2016 at 4:49 AM UTC
We raise our kids on words like suppose and almost.
A lifetime of Hallmark cards and empty promises.
Years of just nearly reaching the top,
only to fall short.
Parents with hands like swingsets
and whose love fluctuates.
As does my sanity.
There is no solace in a stutter.
A stutter will take every thought
every dream
every compliment,
song,
I love you,
and make you feel each letter stab its edges into your throat
and second guess every word.
And I refuse to wait for the day your hands
form an I love you necklace around my neck.
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 7:54 AM UTC
When they asked if
We had gotten back together
I stuttered,
Unsure if I wanted to say
"I wish,"
Or
"Never Again,"
Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 4:07 PM UTC
"The next speech to be given
Is one we need to hear
I'd like to call on William
Who has overcome his fear
William, please come forward
And take your place with me
And children, listen closely
As we let dear William be...."
William then ventured forth
From the back where he sat
He was dressed in a long jacket
And a worn out stove top hat
Before he started talking
More instructions were delivered
"Don't laugh, or talk or clap people...."
While at the front William shivered...
The class went deadly quiet
And William went to speak
No one could quite hear him
His voice was soft and meek
"Four Thcore and Theven yearth ago
Our fatherth brought forth
Upon thith continent
A new nathion, conthieved in liberty.."
William finished speaking
The class just sat there dumb
No one knew this William
From where had this one come
Each year in school since JK
Willaim rarely said a word
And if he ever answered
No one really heard
But today...today he was a hero
Standing proud in his black hat
He had stunned them into silence
Knocked them dead just where they sat
He practiced with the teacher
Every afternoon at home
He worked on words in secret
When he was sitting all alone
The Gettysburg Address
Never, sounded quite as great
As when recited by young William
This young man in grade eight
He had broken his long silence
As the year came to an close
By reciting Old Abe Lincoln
In his black and borrowed clothes
He'd defeated all his demons
Showed his lisp just who was king
Now he ventured into high school
And the worst that it could bring
The bell went off, class was dismissed
The silence was now burst
The children stood to exit
And they let William leave class first
May 10, 2012
May 10, 2012 at 8:17 PM UTC
I remember the bed just floating there.
Apart, apart, apart, apart.
If you repeat something over and over again it loses its meaning
For example:
Homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework
See, nothing
Our existence?
It's the same way.
You watch the sun set too often, it just becomes 6 PM
You make the same mistake over and over
you'll stop calling it a mistake
If you just
wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up,
one day you'll forget why
Nothing is forever
I last saw my mom when I was four years old
Before the last argument they sent me off to the neighbor's house,
like some astronaut jettisoned from the shuttle.
When I came back there was no gravity in our home, beds floating
I imagined it as an accident, that when I left
We whispered to each other "I love you" so many times over
that they forgot what it meant
Family, family, family, family, family, family
If you repeat something over and over again it loses its meaning
This became my favorite game
It made the sting of words evaporate.
Separation, separation, separation;
see, nothing
Apart, apart, apart;
see, nothing
I am an injured person now
I work with words all day
Shut up, I know the irony
When I was young, I was taught that the trick to dominating language
was breaking it down
Convincing it that it was worthless
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you..
...See, nothing
Soon after I left I developed a stutter
Fate is a cruel and efficient tutor
There is no escape in stutter
You feel the meaning of every word drag itself up your throat
S-s-s-separation
Stutter is a cage made of mirrors
Every "Are you ok?"
Every "What'd you say?"
Every "Come on kid, spit it out"
Is a glaring reflection you cannot escape
Every terrible moment skips upon its own announcement
Over and over until it just hangs there,
floating in the middle of the room
Mom, ........
....Dad?
I am not wasteful with my words anymore.
Even now after hundreds of hours of practicing away my stutter,
I still feel the claw of meaning in the bottom of my throat.
I have heard that even in space;
You can hear the scratching of a
I-I-I-I love you.
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 6:23 PM UTC
Here comes the policeman, tucking in his stomach, puffing up his chest. I play out what I'll say in my head, and try to clear the fear stirred up by a bad daydream. He calls to me, asks my name. I hand him my license, as I stutter at an attempt to know what I've done wrong. He ignores me, and has me get out of my car. I try to keep calm, but it proved difficult, as I hadn't mentally prepared very well for this, and we've all seen the stories that always have been.
So I put my hands on my car and stay very still, but to my surprise I feel a slight sting as I graze the hood.
I was falling.
What had just happened? What was this eerie silence that filled the air? Why has this chaotic world suddenly come to a halt?
I began to feel sleepy after I struck the ground, a strange feeling of drowsiness and pain. Was I dying? There are lights, bright and obnoxious; I see one, no, two people lift me up, but it wasn't me. It couldn't have been me, because I was watching them go.
They were forgetting, they were leaving my life by the door.
Please, come back.
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 8:28 AM UTC