Plagiarism of Hermes

sorenbarrett

We steal our words from a primal source

existing before utterances took their course

Forgotten in faded mists of history,

echoed in our own crib side infancy,

is lost the frustration and isolation

that comes with no means of communication

 

Imprisoned in the primeval dark,

we search for a light, a verbal spark

At first we cry, a groan, a moan,

to let others know they're not alone

We desperately search for a means to thresh

out our emotions, buried in flesh

 

With a gasping, grasping, groping attempt,

to express hunger, love or contempt,

a shaping of noises is expressed

to spit out what's deep inside our chest

There's a burning thirst for understanding,

but confusion, is comprehension's river damming

 

With guttural grunts we flail around

to breath a thought into a sound

Yet no clamor conveys the feeling inside,

transmission of peace or hate to describe

So we imitate sounds that others make,

butchering feelings and emotions that are fake

 

Tired of all our verbal philandering

we're made a prisoner of misunderstanding

Until out of desperation we reach audibly

to vomit an unintelligible cacophony

A volcanic force in convulsive spasms

spontaneously erupts in vocal orgasms

 

All words stolen, from their inventor

All thoughts plagiarized, the ideas of a mentor

That's our feeble human attempt,

internal experiences in poems to vent

Words created and looted now abound

to put nature's mysteries into a sound

  • Author: sorenbarrett (Offline Offline)
  • Published: April 25th, 2023 06:17
  • Comment from author about the poem: Hermes is the god of words. They say that a person can not remember before they acquire language but I have verified images and feelings from infancy. I have visual images of the house I lived in and events at six months of age, my parents having moved out of that house when I was a year old. The images and events later confirmed to me by my astonished parents. I also remember the frustration of not understanding what was being said to me and not being able to voice my desires and feelings at that age.
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 12
  • Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
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Comments +

Comments5

  • 2781

    Baa! Very right.

    • sorenbarrett

      Thank you for your review and comment it is appreciated

    • arqios

      It has been oft said that there is nothing new under the sun.

      • sorenbarrett

        Thank you Cryptic. So it is said in Ecclesiastes and I believe it to be true. If it was then what more so now.

      • Doggerel Dave

        Yes - the proposition that you can't remember before you have language sounds completely dubious to me, Soren.
        You cannot convey any of that or thoughts and feelings to others without words and the lack becomes frustrating in the extreme.
        The struggle to become articulate is richly described in your poem.

        • sorenbarrett

          Thank you Dave yes they say that memory is linked to language but I know that there is visual memory as well. I appreciate your review and comments.

        • Bobby O

          The word “we” does not apply, that is an inaccurate supposition, maybe just say “I” and avoid dragging anybody else in this fictional world created only to support a false theory that those that “ vomit an unintelligible cacophony” require or deserve to solace of company. When you write something this bleak you should just burn it.

          • sorenbarrett

            Thanks for the advice

            • Bobby O

              You humble me with your gracious response and I apologize. Admittedly, I allowed a personal sadness to distract me and I childishly lashed out in anger using the piece yiu as a target , forgetting the concept of community and attacking an innocent undeservedly. Please accept my regrets?

            • L. B. Mek

              Brilliant work, dear cherished Poet
              such a great reading experience:
              'Imprisoned in the primeval dark,
              we search for a light, a verbal spark
              At first we cry, a groan, a moan,
              to let others know they're not alone'

              'With a gasping, grasping, groping attempt,
              to express hunger, love or contempt,
              a shaping of noises is expressed
              to spit out what's deep inside our chest'
              (crazy, we're both sharing work
              as study of words/name
              personalised etymologies
              with a nod to our childhoods..)
              lol

              • sorenbarrett

                Thanks so much L.B. for the support of this feeble attempt to express something burried inside. All of our poems do not turn out to appeal to others and may not rank as very poeti, by acceptable standards, but they like our children are not perfect but none the less are ours. Thank you again for the cherrished review and most kind words.

                • L. B. Mek

                  Amen!
                  (and so well said)



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