Between Breadth and Doubt

I write from a variety of experiences.

Some are my own. Some are so close to me that they feel like my own. Others come from observation—a book, a movie, or a conversation—where I allow myself to become intrigued by someone else’s moments of being in between.

My latest poem comes from one of those experiences, where observation led to curiosity, curiosity led to deeper thought, and deeper thought led to poetry.

Because the experience is not my own, I won’t share the details. But the outcome of that conversation led me to think about what we hold inside—what is said, what is left unsaid, and what remains hidden behind our words.

I’ve observed elements of truth in our word choice, the depth of our conversations, and our tone that can be just as telling as action itself. And often, I’ve found that action—or the lack of it—confirms what we already think and feel, tightening the distance between the two.

I also draw on my own experiences. As we all know too well, my forte is heartache.

It’s not that I enjoy this place of heartache; however, it is inevitable at some point in our lives. I’ve experienced my fair share of it, which I think allows me to sit deeply within someone else’s ache—with compassion and empathy, curiosity and wisdom, and, perhaps most importantly, yielding, solitude, and reflection.

As you sit with this poem, I’m curious—
what memory does it spark?

I’d love to hear from you. Maybe our conversation will bring life to my next poem. james@jamesallenart.com

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Between Breadth and Doubt

The quiet—
unresolved in the gap
between shallow
words
and the breadth
between
our warm memory.

Tongues—
recall an intertwine,
when lips tasted the
sweetness of the
enchantment.

now—
we pretend doubt
hasn’t silenced—
the ache,
our hearts
hesitate—
to admit.

— James Allen, 2026