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Carl Sandburg - Jabberers

I RISE out of my depths with my language.
You rise out of your depths with your language.
 
Two tongues from the depths,
Alike only as a yellow cat and a green parrot are alike,
Fling their staccato tantalizations
Into a wildcat jabber
Over a gossamer web of unanswerables.
 
The second and the third silence,
Even the hundredth silence,
Is better than no silence at all
(Maybe this is a jabber too—are we at it again, you and I?)
 
I rise out of my depths with my language.
You rise out of your depths with your language.
 
One thing there is much of; the name men call it by is time; into this gulf our syllabic pronunciamentos empty by the way
rockets of fire curve and are gone on the night sky; into this gulf the jabberings go as the shower at a scissors
grinder’s wheel….

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Jabberers - Comments and Information

Poet: Carl Sandburg
Poem: 4. Jabberers
Volume: Cornhuskers
- Leather Leggings
Year: Published/Written in 1918
Poem of the Day: Dec 30 2012
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