Slamming Doors – The sound of violence

“A door slamming makes one jump, but
it doesn’t make one afraid. What one fears
is the serpent that crawls underneath it.” – Collete

“Starting when I was a kid barely four,

I knew the beating was coming

by the sound of a slamming door


Picking myself up from off the cold floor

His bruises held my mind in fear

by the sound of a slamming door


Older now and wiser but still my soul abhors

the awful things that come and anger shown

by the sound of a slamming door”
 – DMW



How can I describe the feeling I get when a door slams? Hundreds of heartbreaking moments all carry that signature. I can tell when lives carry the heat of anger by the condition of the doors. Splintered frames, stripped hinges, door knobs shattered with pieces strewn around the room, the bottom of the door scraping the floor. I’ve locked doors, only to see them broken down by a significant other – be it a drunk father, jealous girlfriend, or some random hell bent soul. The sound impacts me psychologically now. It initiates a vigilance and tense anticipation of impending doom. It makes me mad, really mad, like a rage that crawls over me with it’s claws out. There are doors inside my heart as well. You can’t hear them but I do. Women slam them when they betray me, kids slam them when they reject me, and men slam them when they threaten me. I can’t turn off the feelings quick enough when I’m energized by the sound of the slamming doors. I long to live in peace, and right now, I feel real peaceful but wait, did you hear that? Nooooooooo!!!

Related Post: The Tub

Slamming Doors – The sound of violence

“A door slamming makes one jump, but
it doesn’t make one afraid. What one fears
is the serpent that crawls underneath it.” – Collete

“Starting when I was a kid barely four,

I knew the beating was coming

by the sound of a slamming door


Picking myself up from off the cold floor

His bruises held my mind in fear

by the sound of a slamming door


Older now and wiser but still my soul abhors

the awful things that come and anger shown

by the sound of a slamming door”
 – DMW



How can I describe the feeling I get when a door slams? Hundreds of heartbreaking moments all carry that signature. I can tell when lives carry the heat of anger by the condition of the doors. Splintered frames, stripped hinges, door knobs shattered with pieces strewn around the room, the bottom of the door scraping the floor. I’ve locked doors, only to see them broken down by a significant other – be it a drunk father, jealous girlfriend, or some random hell bent soul. The sound impacts me psychologically now. It initiates a vigilance and tense anticipation of impending doom. It makes me mad, really mad, like a rage that crawls over me with it’s claws out. There are doors inside my heart as well. You can’t hear them but I do. Women slam them when they betray me, kids slam them when they reject me, and men slam them when they threaten me. I can’t turn off the feelings quick enough when I’m energized by the sound of the slamming doors. I long to live in peace, and right now, I feel real peaceful but wait, did you hear that? Nooooooooo!!!

Related Post: The Tub

Seven Faults Of Foolishness – Fault #3 A Multitude of Words

Fault #3 – A Multitude of Words

When words are scarce they are seldom spent in vain.”
William Shakespeare

The water in a vessel is sparkling; the water in the sea is dark. The small truth has words which are clear; the great truth has great silence.”
Rabindranath Tagore

‘When there are many words, transgression is unavoidable, but he who restrains his lips is wise.’ – Proverbs 10:19
There is a babble of words in the mouth of the foolish not unlike a dripping on a rainy afternoon; endlessly flowing, each word declaring its presence noisily. Not knowing the end of their desire for admiration and a delight in showing their knowledge, the fool will not put an end to his conversation. I’ve seen it, from my own mouth, where speaking, I said to much, to the wrong people, and a peaceful situation became inflamed with the babbling brook of a foolish tongue. Not only the number of words, but the timing, revealing secrets of those around, gossiping without concern, throwing fuel on the fires of contention. Nothing is sacred in the foolish discussions engaged and promoted.
Finding the foolish in a crowd is easy. Look for the one talking endlessly, with jokes pouring out and gossip spewing forth. This person will “know” everything or most certainly have an opinion that they will share vehemently on any subject, professing their endless knowledge of all subjects. Turning easy conversation into platforms of self aggrandization, the audience shake their heads, the fool not noticing the tide of acceptance turning against him. Contention will certainly surround this person.
Holding the tongue is difficult, success in it determined by long periods of self discipline, and a constant vigilance against the errors of it in common conversation, which things the fool is concerned with.