The Sunday Posts 2015/Linguist



If we lived in a world where bells
truly say 'ding-dong' and where 'moo'
is a rather neat thing
said by a cow,
I could believe you could believe
that these sounds I make in the air
and these shapes with which I blacken white paper
have some reference
to the thoughts in my mind
and the the feelings in the thoughts.

As things are
if I were to gaze in your eyes and say
'bow-wow' or 'quack' you must take that to be
a dispairing anthology of praises'
a concentration of the opposites
of reticence, a capsule
of my meaning of meaning
that I can no more write down
than I could spell the sound of the sigh
I would then utter, before
dingdonging and mooing my way
through all the lexicons and languages
of imprecision.

 Norman MacCaig, October 1964.
Photo by Alistair
 

Comments

Yamini MacLean said…
Hari OM
Good ol' Norman, explaining the uselessness of words with those words themselves! Happy week to you Alistair! YAM xx
Bovey Belle said…
I was thinking Ted Hughes for a minute, but got it Wrong! Thank you for broadening my poetry horizons. . .
Alistair said…
Glad you liked it girls.

Cheers.

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