speech and thought

After having some difficulty annunciating the ‘set’ in poinsettia, having it get trapped somewhere on the tip of the tongue, repetition of this world will only cause more of a blockage. So i walked around and looked at the items in my house. I always liked doing such a thing, appraising objects by the value of memories behind them. I looked at the little polar bear blanketed with coarse, worn fur, and remarked to my mother on the very new-to-me discovery, the head moved. you could rotate the polar bear head 360 degrees. After a lifetime of what i thought was familiarity with this object, the back left paw that was chewed by my brother, the prickly white fur, the glassy black eyes i learned something new, or perhaps just had forgotten that i had known it.

Back to poinsettia. Standing, the word came out this time. it was easier without frustrated unrealized effort looming over the tongue. Repeating the word a few times as i walked downstairs seemed to help place me, then i repeated it in my mind and could hear the hiss of ‘set’ and almost feel the relaxed mechanisms in my mouth and throat. And i thought how curious it is that my thoughts are all limited to a physiologically, well coordinated set of movements. I wondered at my thoughts when i was a baby, before the utterances had been pronounced by my own tongue. What was thought then? Was it something similar to what thought is now, when it seems to pause in the middle of things, dropping into a black hole, being sucked inward and becoming totally void. But not void, it is there in the form of half conceived notions and words, all bubbling up but bursting before formation. yes, the metaphor of the bubbles sums it up best. and my mind grasps at them just like tiny hands reaching, eyes lighting up with fascination, fingers stretched, but it burst on its own before i have the chance to tangibly touch it and transform it into soapy wet foam on my fingers.

“Poinseee”- pop!