santos scribes

1.
the truth is, my love affair with words existed even before i did; a generous gift of agonizing ecstasy bestowed upon me by another realm entirely

it will take the totality of my life to account for and unwrap each hidden morsel and gem: why don’t ‘done’ and ‘tone’ rhyme?

how come ‘disguise’ and ‘ties’ do?

these thoughts fascinate and delight me, even as they overwhelm, forget about trying to articulate them. see, just then, ‘AR-tic-u-lATE’, why does it feel so gratifying to say such a word?

to waste hours picking and choosing words from our tiny shared pool, to express or communicate, appropriately, clearly, our feelings

why is it then that these precious words we’ve picked, from this measly collection of curved and straight lines, generally end up falling so short?

2.
the part i don’t really care for is the grammar; how can a set of rules and exceptions set the stage for creativity and individuality to dance?

in a sentence, it can’t.

it’s in the heady stuff

the nuance of semantics

the abstraction of thought

that make a language or a word worth speaking

isn’t it something though-

how when i speak the word ‘dog’ it will never not once bring my childhood pet, pokey, to your mind but only rather your beloved pup jake or the bite of some nameless canine whose memory is buried at the surface of your wrist there.

one word, three letters, an emordnilap of god; yes, it will surely take all nine of my lives to think each of these thoughts through

by: stephanie santos-grant