[Glenn Wright]

I like the first half of this poem very much, but I found myself tripping over the clunky polyptoton of “articulate/inarticulacy.” The grammar is a bit fuzzy in the last four lines, too.
It might bring it into focus if you use a series of present participles to hold the end together— something like
. . . I didn’t know
she wasn’t listening to the words
but only feeling the quiver in them
and how eloquent the trembling voice
speaking for the muteness of the heart.

[Jim Moonan]

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Revision posted.

Thanks John, Glenn.

John, You are right about the final two lines, I think. I was trying to indicate what Van Morrison said about music being "the inarticulate speech of the heart."

It's a poem I wrote ten or so years ago. Now that I read it in the light of your comments I can see what you mean. It's lackluster at best. But there is a beating heart in it somewhere that I want to reveal. It is a simple love poem.

"The articulate/inarticulate thicket is a strange construction, particularly when it follows someone who isn't listening."

I think you may have missed the heart of the poem. The woman is not listening to the words of the song. The words are superfluous. Instead, she is captured by the quiver in the man's voice as he stumbles through playing/singing the song to her about his love for her. To her, that's the song: him. She wants him to "keep going" because she sees/hears the vulnerability of the singer and, although he stumbles, she is enamored by the effort and the love behind it.


Glenn, (see above, and) I will find a different way to say what I'm trying to say with the final two lines. I agree the grammar is suspect in the final lines. I did tinker quite a bit with it but, as you point out, there is something off about it. I will do what I can to smooth it out using your suggestions as a guide. I want it to be written with the lightest touch.

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