The Unspoken Army
Become a
Premium Member
and post notes and photos about your poem like Candide Diderot.
"Poetry is thin, with dark eyes and a hollow face that echoes all the time without distinction. The distinction lies in her breasts that are full of beat under her vague dress that changes colours according to the statements.
She never fails, grows old or dies but simply moves to the next place when it is time to move, to slap, to love, to incorporate the unspoken before it fades away unrecognized."
(Miranda Cambanis)
"The Unspoken Army"
it came to me this life,
I did not ask for it,
I was pushed out, not wanting the revisit at all,
one iota
as if in a dream the blinds once drawn were slowly sliding wide open; framed,
through doors to a foreign world where no one spoke my language, the light a bitter potion -
nor sensed the feels of me, the unseeing, deaf to this bleeding open wound that spoke of children stolen;
and all the stage my world turned its sunny back on me;
eyes to the ground their feet shuffled like poetic shackled legions leading towards the unleading,
best to follow the masters they could clearly see and listen like soulless puppets, vacuous and easy,
manouvred senselessly into agreement, contracting the poisonous words trusting falsehoods reverently;
faith had diminished, drowned in faithless cups of erstwhile parish tea,
the conversation took turns ripping to shreds the core of what was left of me, muted,
“...another piece of this delicious dark fruit cake dear?” this suggested patronisingly,
I shook my head sincerely, without saying one word, I smiled thin and grimly
inside my mind was forming a different kind of unspoken army,
leagues beyond the server, somewhere under my drowned sea
the bends were kicking in, it was debated would I make it to the surface
before oxygen took over the blood and water of me;
such unwanted urgency.
Candide Diderot. ‘25
"(Dancing around a shooting star)
(And every cell remembers what has taken us this far)
Feed me sunlight, feed me air
(I see images of killer whales)
Feed me truth and feed me prayers
(Sleeping in a desert trail)
(Dreaming of a parallel world where nothing ever hurts)
(Dreaming of a parallel world where nothing ever hurts)".
Copyright © Candide Diderot | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment