Monday random: silence

  • I am going to say this right out, right now: I am uncomfortable with complete silence
  • The reasons for this are varied, but most come from childhood and are fairly evident by poetry regarding the same. Rephrased: enough said about that.
  • This week I was under the weather, mostly I think from allowing myself to become rundown
  • Plus after a particularly rough patch, I followed it with a great deal of sugary snacks, which we all have come to know are poison.
  • I did not go to the doctor, but I did doctor myself with water, vegetables, fruit, vitamins, sunshine, and colloidal silver
  • and sleep, which I am still working on.
  • I just can’t get enough, but I am trying

Continue reading “Monday random: silence”

He closed like a door
not slammed
the way we hear a warning shot
before the storm
but shut meticulously
to evoke no more than a soft click
easily missed

It was always the silence that did me in.
I put up with every violation
in a way that no one should
but I never stopped living
until the silence got me

Brass tacks

I say it badly–how
all I wish for us
(when it comes down to brass tacks)
for what I really want–
is to be real, and

real truthful

even if it stings
(or draws blood)
even if it means I don’t get to
talk to you anymore.

There is nothing wrong
with being quiet
as long as it is your idea
nothing wrong with silence
(only I, putting
the distance there, no one

unless it is me, there
in the interim
and you cannot find me.

So we continue
at opposite corners
nearly overwhelming desire
for days and weeks
before the inevitable question
of getting down to it–

wouldn’t you like
to get (down)
to it

no more (Words)

You do not hear me
and I have
no more words for you


am left aside like the leavings of supper
bits of Caesar salad and mashed potatoes

I bragged
I boasted
I was so sure
my words were the cure
I could form them
into what shape would help us
(and) my failure is bitter

The tirade
a stream of negotiation
flowing through us
as storms slammed again and again
like tides

There are no more words
the abuses too fine
The cruelties too keen

let the gutters fill up
don’t empty them of leaves
(I have)
no more words


packing heavy
sorting all of it
in the front room
at the moment of departure
taking one bag
and the sandwiches
leaving the rest
for something bigger
that does not function well
with heavy luggage

destination away
via untraveled trails
rough divots and fences
new green smells
old-timey feeling
I encountered
when I was ten
and still had grandparents

the skies
remain the same
with the absence
of street lamps, and
strip malls
a better fate than shopping
when you find you do not
need anything else

no sleep
no inclination
to count the days
measuring quality of life
sucking up remaining air
sucking up oxygen
and strawberries

rhythm and blues

you have muted me
apathetic arrows
slicing through
leaving me silent
I wish you would yell
for we have forgotten
the start
the hum of us

how we were
when I read your thoughts
and you
finished my sentences
at times
with a laugh
but they are harder
to come by now

dear moments
swept out-saved up
priceless and irreplaceable
make good placemats now
and coasters
to keep rings
off the table