10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind |
Quiet Now (No Audience For This) The dead are forgotten. Are you dead if not remembered? Am I in a tomb of my own making? Have I not stirred on this earth? Shushed by the whispers of those Giving honor to quiet? Of the dead? I am not alive, and, forgotten Because I built walls of silence Around myself to soften whispers, Derisive, using my name to shun, To scorn, to silence. Like a child with hands ruled to lap, Or purposed in pants pockets, I dare not gesticulate these notions, Uncouth to you with no respect Of introspect within the lining Of this coffin I'm fit in. I'm not hollow. I'm not you. I want to rise before mortuary, Grab your coroner's scalpel Before one red drop drained, Brood upon the sterile table, Proclaim worth in this cold vault. Let me out! Or, Let me in, Because I do not know where begin If you won't notice what I've been trying to say. It's stuffy in my box. Cut a hole for ventilation. I know it's headed for the ground. My only hope, frozen, Shovel dull. Oh, eulogy!? I've written it, Speak myself at a service For the sallow flesh. Delighted I might have mourners? Just don't forget to embalm. Wouldn't want to look ugly Amid potential, black-veiled grief. Bet they critique my black attire In motionless state. Afterthought: Better yet, cremate me. No vase, no mantel. Cast me to the wind! Hope in your face? Yup, I'm giving up. You win. Oops, forget to hit RECORD. Where to begin again? I'll be quiet now. No audience for this. Suitable, scenic words of scented, verdant fauna is down the hall. Follow your nose. I'm the one who's lost.{/end} 3.2.20 2.12.22 edit + last three lines (maybe throwaway?) Oosh, a bit severe. (could be a question) "Might the dead be just a bit passive-aggressive?" "Was he saying something?" Will the social commentary about the ignorance that abounds ever stop with me? |