You Can’t Arrest My Words

What I mean is;
beware the young lawyer who starts twisting words in pretzels
or splitting them open with the casualness of fruit.
"Unpacking" he calls it - he's young and sort of pleading
but I wear the gauntlet and I hold my advantage -
the conviction of honesty with no reason to lie.

He (poor man) is being paid to rearrange a statement
spin words in circles for a particular end.
But today, just for once, I am the falconer 
and I know how to call my words back to my glove.
Oh!  For once I feel certain,
my mind crisp and unsullied by tiredness or fear.
I soar with my statement on thermals and eddies
on currents of air he can't even see.

Because words are like falcons - 
they're colleagues, not prisoners.
He's trying to inveigle my friends and my hunters
and trying to retrain them for his own hellbent use.
No sir.  Not today sir.  I am a writer -
these are my words and I know what they mean.


	

5 thoughts on “You Can’t Arrest My Words

  1. Oh I LOVE this! I love the image of you being a falconer who calls your words back to your glove and also ā€œI am a writer ā€“
    these are my words and I know what they mean.ā€ I love it. Such power and calmness and beauty in this poem.

    Liked by 1 person

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