Words, words. Parole, parole.

"If food had a language, it would be French..." is the start of my poem 'Parole'. I wrote it while in my mind the 1972 song by Mina and Alberto Lupo was playing. 'Parole' in Italian means 'words'. Words can be just talk, void of meaning. I crave meaning, depth and when I write I want to convey a deeper lying truth. In working and living across different language and cultural barriers, words in other languages evoke meaning for the place, for the people, my experience there. I crave that meaning and through writing, attempt to convey a sense of this by using foreign phrases or languages. Then words can just become sounds, and a poem can become a song. And finally words give hope, become vigour. More than words. Parole, parole.

Photo/image: Geert Colpaert, Doel (H)artistiek 2019.