Native Tongue – New Poem

This is a new one. If I decide I don’t like it I’ll take it down, so read it quickly, ’cause I do that a LOT. And if you like it let me know – it motivates me to leave it up.

Native Tongue

The blood I can feel
each morning, slow as sap
through the skin & tissue.

Untapped. Maybe I need
medication, it’s probably hormones
someone will say.

It’s some-odd years
of the same. Not the ones
already lived, it’s what is

to come. I regret
what is left. No man ever learned

his lesson from me. My lips
were never red. My native tongue not
his first language. His blood

so blue it showed through
on his face & fingers.


17 thoughts on “Native Tongue – New Poem

  1. Pingback: Native Tongue – Poem (via mareymercy.) « My Blog

  2. “My native tongue not his first language……” an awesome, delicate way to say that a man can not understand a woman! and how true…… There has been some kind of communication gap, or some kind of basic, life understanding – commonality – dysfunctional kind of gap in almost every deep relationship I’ve ever had with a member of the opposite sex. It’s so true! It’s there, it exists, it’s real…. Really good poem……. thank you

  3. Well, it’s probably just your hormones. Just kidding. I used to not like such statements when I was younger – it sounded too cliche, or like an easy out to use – but I do think there’s some truth to men and women speaking different languages. At least, at certain times and in certain situations.

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