When the words have left, The room falls silent, Tension hangs in the air, Going stale in the still mouths, Leaving that bitter taste, Of not knowing what to say, Of saying too little.
When The Words Have Left
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Yearly Archives: 2015
The Man and The Flower
Stumbling footsteps graced the earth, Contorting the shrubbery under their weight, Twisting the roots in their shallow graves. All things ruined and changed, Bar a single flower. He plucks it from its sheath, Revelling in the intricate swirls on its petals. He falls back onto the sodden ground, Marvelling in the phenomena before him. The single intricate flower, That survived his onslaught of steps. ‘I ought to place it by my ear’ He giggled to himself. ‘Or perhaps on my lapel’ He retorted to himself. ‘Either would be fashionable’ He replied. To himself. He lay back on the bed of leaves, Captured in the beauty of the petals. Knowing full well he ought to stand, Ought to remove himself from the floor, But deciding it easier, Simpler even, To just lay there. A single flower in his hand, His worldly possession, His only ownership.
The nurse pulls him from the floor, Removing the toothpick from his fingers, And leading him to the bed. He feels the leaves fall from his back, Leaving the wet outlines on his vest. ‘Our final concern for your father’ The doctor said to the woman before him, ‘Is his persistent hallucination…’
The Quiet Night and The Meditator
No words, or phrases, Just a still night. A single body sat, Draped in a coral shirt, Leaning over the water's edge, Toes tickling the cool liquid. Nothing too hard to think about, Nothing too simple to neglect. A single body sat, Not a worry in the world, Next to the picnic basket, And old wooden banjo. No love, or hate, Just a quiet night, A single body sat, Beneath the willow, Protected from the world, The busy streets, And the noise of the car. No companion, or nuisance, Just the minds-eye. A meditator sits, For another round, Another attempt at bliss. A gentle breath, The only sound.
Internal Anguish
For so long I've formed pain, Held it within my four walls, Within the structure of myself. I learned this to be unhealthy, Destructive to my personality, So I believed expression was key, To let it all flow freely, Unfiltered, from my lips. You encouraged me to talk, I reciprocated such action, Believing you willing to listen, And knowing my ears are open. As I learned to open up, Began to find release, I faced judgement, more pain. You couldn't deal with what I held back. I'll be no fool again, like this, All previously thought progression, Now clearly regression. So I apologize for my blindness. I'll not let the world know my pain, I'll keep my internal anguish, Even if I crumble inside, then out, It must be less than external hate. I'll retreat back to myself, Keep in my bubble, where I'm safe. Never to be scolded again, By a fire that others fuelled. I'll embrace my internal anguish, Understand it as my only companion, Never to be betrayed by tongues, Relaying information untrue, Or turned, or twisted, or even honest. People cannot cope with my pain, So I'll no longer seek advice.
My Silence
You should know, My silence is wrong, You're quiet and content, I am loud and proud. Yet my silence has gone continually unquestioned. I am not one for silence, Can't you see, at all? I'm shout it so loud, without words or sounds. I need you to help me. I need you to save me. The agony is built up, Years of things unsaid. I can't say them to you, But at least notice! Don't push me away more, I need you to be there more, Now more than ever! Don't leave me in this silence! Save Me...
Divorcing Deceit
Where does the honest value lie? You measure it with paper, The weight of metal in your pocket, Disregarding the real appraisal. Happiest to assign digits to all things: Interaction: reduced to a number, Friendship: summed up by addition. You see price tags above our heads, Exploitation in our situations, Yet opportunity in our kindness. To give and give freely, Is not possessed in your nature, I'm almost certain of it. You miss the enjoyment of value, When mercenary needs control, To take and take greedily, Is to abuse the true treasures: People
Another
Glass in hand, Tongue in mouth, A poor excuse for an escape. Glass in hand, Liquor in mouth, One fine way to drown it out. Glass in hand, Mind still thinks, Maybe a bit faster will help. Glass in hand, Eyes glaze out, More is needed to settle. Glass in hand, Thoughts command, Just swallow pride before this one.
Glass on lip, Eyes closed, One more breath to swallow. Glass on deck, Another in mind, Perhaps the thought will stop. Glass on lip, Liquor tips, The heart begins to race Glass on deck, Burning neck, Just one more to ease the pain. Glass on lip, Feelings split. It's time. To have another.
Please
Every time I see you, I see potential, future, I see excellence in all you do. I wish you saw it, I wish you realised. Like the wings of a butterfly, You influence a change in the world, Without you, the world is broken. You offer uniqueness, Something only you give. Your heart is as big as your pain. And you're so much stronger, So much stronger than this. Please.
Will I Understand?
If love is shown in red, Then why do my eyes burn, Why do they melt, when I see it, Why is LOVE shown as I see anger? As a tormenting pain inside, Contorting, twisting, crippling, Making me hate all that everyone sees as love. Why is love shown as the color that induces death? The color that drew an angel away. The color that drew the last part, Of my first love away? How is love red when red stops? It halts, intrudes with it's imposed rules, Controlling the world as it moves. Why is love red?
Betrothed to Betrayal
In an Ivory gown, I waltz, To meet my maker, Or face my ultimate breaker. In the eyes of all those I trust, I see a conspiring plan, To share, universally, the feelings, In their new related form, That originally came from my heart. I vow to be there, In sickness and in health, And betroth myself to life, Imprisonment by betrayal, Regardless of my feelings, Without notice of my honesty, I marry myself to be hated, Suspected by my spouse, Harmed by my home bird. Betrothed to my Betrayal.
The Poet Armistead 