Silence Canopy
Silence inscribed on my ceiling
canopy of unheard words.
I listen and hear
soft sound in the stillness.
I touch a lonely pebble,
hear the faint messages
enveloped in tranquility.
Total release woven
in garment of peace,
whispering when
no one is there.
No echoes of my past
disturb my hushed mind.
Accepting my submission
to peace in bucolic place,
I float gracefully into world
of unimpaired spirit.
Roadblocks to sight and sound
are excised from periphery,
releasing calmness,
restoring my psyche.
I hearken to words
that are unheard
and soundless.
Silently, I release
yesterday’s sorrow,
enveloped in serenity
cocooned in solitude.
if perfection had a name
The silence of the night overtakes me. No sound. Just darkness. Thick. Veiling bedroom from the noises of the night. And you lying beside me. Drawing quiet breaths in concord with my pulse. Life force stretched out upon Egyptian Cotton. At peace with the turmoil of the day and of the nights past.
I reach out my hand to touch your flesh and watch silently as the goosebumps spread across your skin. If perfection had a name? It would be you my love.
It would be you resting safely at my side. No bending wills or heavy cement walls to separate me and you from our pasts. Just you and me in the silence. Veiled by the darkness of the night. Locked Away from the world. Forever.
She’s No Friend of Mine
A million times a day
It started with the morning sunlight
Often continued even after bedtime
Mom! Mom! Mom!
Wipe my butt!
Whereʼs the cookies?
Whereʼs my shoes?
Can I - Will you - Buy me -
Drive–me - Help–me - Feed me -
I need - I want - Gimme!!
I used to long for silence
I used to fantasize about changing my name
I used to get annoyed
Why is it always “MOM!"
And never "DAD!"
Then I got my wish
Suddenly
No more "MOM” 400 times a day
Not even once a day
I wished for silence
My wish was granted…
Silence is not a friend
Silence is a tricky little devil
No…..
Silence is a fucking cunt
Silence seems so attractive from afar
She makes you long for her
Burn with desire for her
Pray to God for her
Then when you finally find her
You discover her brutality
She's fʼll of sharp edges and trap doors
Steep drop offs and hairpin turns
And you realize it's not really quiet at all
Silence is an unbreakable scream
And you realize she's always been screaming
But that her continuous tone
Was easily drowned out by all the noise before
Back when your name was called
Back when you were needed
Back when you were useful and necessary
Back when you were a mother
A wife, a sister, a girlfriend, a daughter
Back when you were loved
Behind her million dollar smile
Silence has sharp teeth
She'll latch on if she can
If you can hear her,
It's already too late
SILENCE
The silence of a beating heart
Goes unnoticed in the absence
Of Love.
To be quiet means to die,
To vanish into the cosmos
To crumble into dust.
The silence of a bleeding heart
Gathers snapshots of memories
Of Love.
To be quiet means to suppress,
To delete all that exists,
To erase our very existence.
Silence....
We were staring at each other as the deafening sound of silence grew louder with every breath I took. The silence gnawed at my insides, it hung in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground. The silence was like a gaping void, needing to be filled with sounds, words, anything. The silence was poisonous in it's nothingness, cruelly underscoring how loud our argument had become. The silence was eerily unnatural, like a dawn devoid of birdsong, it clung to the air like a puff of cigarette smoke. Silence seeped into our every pore, a poison slowly paralyzing us from either speech or movement.
Echoes of chaos
I lay still in my bed,
I hear my heart beat
Feel it's flutter in my throat,
I wait in the dark,
in silence
for the next round.
I hear his voice,
his hateful words,
her over dramatic cries,
it escalates,
the sound of cracked wood,
echoes in my mind.
The slamming doors,
The cries.
It goes on all night
In the silence
I wait
for the next round.
master of eavesdropping,
they make me sick,
so dysfunctional,
broken.
Silence is never silent,
it always has a sound.
I wasn't there
Not me.
I own memories
Of
Another time
Another place.
A little girl
Not me
This woman
Has a voice.