Uncovering The Lines Poem by Andy Brookes

Words written words are open to interpretations,
expanding like cloud bubbles untilmeaning is over laid at each reading
a mosaic of little tiles distort the picture becoming blurred in obscurity.
Original intents lost, new meaning engaged bejewelled but useless.

beauty marred by scuffs, its hard edges, so necessary, knocked off smoothed.
we want to sooth thelanguage, violence, dirt and bawdiness, lessen death's spectre, repaint, repair, remodeled.

every reader adds their traductions till clipped like a coin for its sliver
itbecomes heavy with translations but worthless.
bacteria doubling redoubling until its sublimeness is lost under the weight of experts.

Shakespeare becomes void and null the language idiosyncratic
a rose smells like a sewer, a ragged frayed truth that stands its pounding stoically the woven threads do not fray but arepulled sideways.

Sometimes things are what the seem, no subtext, no higher meaning, they just are and their beauty then shines through clean and fresh without taint.