A Death Called Dove

“What a short time I had been given to experience love. I felt as my life had only recently begun and now it would surely end at sunrise.”
Meredith Taylor
sweetesttootsieroll
Found then a little dove cowering in the birth of new
A blade came near and scant to miss
only a hairs breath relinquishing bliss
Flying before her time with wind both a friend and foe
Thinking to see, her wings grow tired
Blind fear rushes never more inspired
A shy grasp at what becomes a mysterious fateful lore
Trying but giving away the hidden life
Reduced to nothing and shut in by strife
Again the hungry clock stood its watch over gentle dove
Only to alight were she would never to fly
Wings fail to carry her to comforting sky
Talented feathery quills of reaching passion stoned to silence
Will giving her gifts to the clouds that call
Only create little pieces in the memory of all
Just dreams of doves laying torn in dawns fading embrace
O fragile dove you’ll ne’er see forever pain

Walking in silence ’cause your wings are maimed

Also published in Broowaha Citizen’s Magazine

The Sound of Silence

 “When truth is replaced by silence,the silence is a lie.” Yevgeny Yevtushenko
alexcorleone
I wish my tongue would stop moving. Just get stuck to the roof of my mouth, and never say anything again. After so many things being said that are ignored, mocked, or cause problems by simple statements. Problems not started or imagined by me, but by those paranoid and insecure souls around me. I just want silence. I’m tired of saying my peace trying to help people. Advice, wasted breaths. They don’t want it, I’m tired of giving it. So tired of talking, energy given that ‘s never returned. The words that burn to be said, let them smolder and die in my stomach. I won’t speak them, never reveal them. So many words, clutter in this world, a messy and disease ridden clutter. I close my mouth, did it really matter anyway? But, surely at some point in our history, words have helped shaped the course of lives and nations. What makes me think I can change my world by ideas expressed in words? What if just one person, lost in the anonymity of the internet, reading my words in some dark cave of seclusion, could resist an evil impulse, come to realize they are not alone, or find that they share a common experience? This is why I speak, it’s not the well that need a doctor, my words cannot help those who aren’t sick. I only want to help one, that crazy one that hopes someone understands.

Empty Victory – PTSD

“Often it isn’t the initiating trauma that creates seemingly insurmountable pain, but the lack of support after.”
S. Kelley Harrell, Gift of the Dreamtime – Reader’s Companion 
philwicklund
Bend beneath and swerve around
All my troubles utter one great sound
Pulling the tapestry of life apart
Never in silence until I depart
Standing firm under a heavy break
Looking over the edge, a fall to take
Final swings in battles won
Left to victories empty sun
Laying all down in a sleepless bed
Battle scars never leave my head

Empty Victory – PTSD

“Often it isn’t the initiating trauma that creates seemingly insurmountable pain, but the lack of support after.”
S. Kelley Harrell, Gift of the Dreamtime – Reader’s Companion 
philwicklund
Bend beneath and swerve around
All my troubles utter one great sound
Pulling the tapestry of life apart
Never in silence until I depart
Standing firm under a heavy break
Looking over the edge, a fall to take
Final swings in battles won
Left to victories empty sun
Laying all down in a sleepless bed
Battle scars never leave my head

Beautiful Silence – Words never heard, but plainly understood

“He who does not understand your silence will probably not understand your words.”
Elbert Hubbard
 

bpl

Evening unexpected, a happening unforeseen

Things all new, before not a thought
Following the wild road
Only going where I don’t plan

Beautiful silence, the wind not whispering a thing
as it plays with your hair.
Beautiful silence, the moon quietly casting shadows
of our hands dancing together
Beautiful silence, the clouds a captive audience
to our tryst by the sea.

Seeing miracles as I let go
Holding you close a myth is born
The night still young with untapped energy
Laughter unfolds, unprovoked and easy

Beautiful silence, the wind not whispering a thing
as it plays with your hair.
Beautiful silence, the moon quietly casting shadows
of our hands dancing together
Beautiful silence, the clouds a captive audience
to our tryst by the sea.

Reality blurs into a dream
Thoughts quiet now except for the pursuit
Good things do happen, I take the chance
I wake with a smile, oh what a night.

Also published in Broowaha
01082012