The Poets Awoke

m. nourbeSe philip

The poets awoke

The poets awoke one morning

The poets awoke one morning to find

The poets awoke one morning to find that all their words had left them

Fleeing into the blackness of night that had no end

The poets awoke one morning and found

As their mothers had warned when they were children

That there were some words too heavy for their tongues

For their tongues to lift

To carry the burden of speech

The poets awoke one morning and found

Like birds fleeing a burning field

Their words had simply up and flown away

No words to talk about what should not be

The poets awoke one morning and found their words smashed to smithereens

Like so many bodies under two-thousand-pound bombs

The poets scrambled, scrabbled

Here, there, everywhere

Under rubble, trying to find a word, a letter, a phrase

The poets awoke to find that words that appeared so inconsequential

“the” “and” “but” “this” “that”

Even those had been destroyed

The poets awoke one morning to find that along with that

More portentous words like “truth” had disappeared

The poets awoke

One morning

The poets awoke to find that even lies had gone

Scurrying away

So much vermin under bright lights

The poets awoke one morning to find that there was nothing

Nothing to say

And how could they be poets with nothing to say?

The poets awoke one morning thinking of words

Like “carnage” and “war” and “brutality” and “history”

Like “punishment” and “retribution”

The poets awoke one morning to find those important words dead

Of no consequence

Lying in the gutter

How could they, the poets who awoke that morning, those mornings

Do what poets do?

(And what do poets do?)

The poets awoke that morning

To nothing

To no words

On awaking one morning

That morning

In the absence of words

In the absence of silence

The silence that is always

Absence

The poets turn to each other

Then turn to face the world

To ask

Who are we without our words?

Without our silences

How do we witness?

On the morning that the poets awoke

to find that all their words had fled

In consternation

In shock

In horror

That morning

When they awoke to find that all their words had fled

Like sweat pouring out of their pores

Had fled them

(Forget rats on a sinking ship)

They, the poets who awoke that morning

Were drowned in the absence of words

Their own words

In the absence of silence

In the silence that is absence

Perhaps that morning the poets awoke

Along with those who are bereft

Perhaps that morning

The poets cried

m. nourbeSe philip is an unembedded poet-without-ambition who was born in Tobago and lives in Toronto. The author of several works of poetry, fiction, nonfiction, and drama, she remains humbled by the risk-based act of faith that is the practice of poetry.
Originally published:
September 9, 2024

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