Free me from this bold transgression,
Random words without expression.
No clear thought from them unfolding,
I’d rather listen to a scolding.
My plead is this, if not profound,
Please mute thy instrument of its sound.
For better yet it’d surely be,
If some message the reader could not see.
Please add some rhyme, or at least a rhythm,
Expound on something, begin with a given.
They say that the wind as it rustles the trees,
It’s only a wind ‘til one calls it a breeze.
Chaos will come with no rhyme or reason,
To thy own words be true, no need for treason.
As I gazed out over the slow-flowing creek
Suppressing the agony of losing my child
Tears never fail to spill down my cheeks
As I have repeated this ritual for a while
Making these pilgrimages to this waterway
While I stood on this same slick, muddy bank
I enjoy observing the bluegill and catfish play
Paying their respect. For that, I owe thanks
An army swims back and forth in formation
Alerting the water inhabitants as they often do
Like synchronized swimmers without expression
The fish will come if they think you have food
It's been a year since I freed his charred remains
All that is left of his countenance is this powder
It’s hard to comprehend or for my mind to contain
As I visit my only child's ashes in these waters
Deep are the questions, like quicksand sinking
Seeping into a restless mind pressing
Weeping with release, yet overthinking
Sleep comes uneasy with dreams distressing
Heaps of concepts lead to faulty linking
Steeping upon words without expression
Sheep are miscounted with rapid blinking
Leaping to conclude a wrong impression
12-10-2020
I used to wake up in the morning
To the music of my soul
And search the whole day through
For one like you.
I used to sing a song of joining,
For in my heart I felt the light,
And I reached out every day
With hope renewed.
I used to sing. I used to dance.
I used to whisper poems nightly to the moon.
I used to love the artist in me and all that came my way,
I used to celebrate expression every day.
But, living found me coupled with pedantic, empty souls,
With clever masquerades of magic men.
And I find that I have turned around,
And left my voice behind,
And I find that I am not what I had been.
I used to sing! I used to dance!
I used to practice all my talents every day.
I used to find expressing life through art
The only way to be;
I used to feel that was the only way for me.
But, now I find I have a cobwebbed life,
A dusty, boring, ho-hum life,
A life without expression or esteem.
I've turned into a shadow of a girl who used to be.
I've turned into the opposite of free.
...and I've turned into the opposite of me.
The Apology
And yes Joan, was there a time I said there could be a tomorrow?
And when did I say our love would last forever?
Want the moon? It’s yours! The sun? You can have it!
Only that I would be a joker fulfilling a role that doesn’t suit me;
I am what I am. Loving life is wonderful.
Please don’t look at me as if I were some cruel beast;
Scheming and stalking prey for the feast.
We never seem to agree; our wants and needs are different.
For what it’s worth, I’m sorry if I misled you into believing
We were sharing. I wasn’t taking advantage of the situation.
I am caring, but I was naïve and too immature to take that leap.
I couldn’t feel your feelings. Your look was casual;
Without expression, and now I see the hurt in your eyes.
No wonder you despise me: the loathing, the hate,
And I am ashamed for being so mean
And treating you carelessly; without remorse.
There were memories, Joan, intimate, and personal.
That I will cherish, and I did make you smile.
And now, after all, is said and done, the distance grown;
I apologize.
it's not your fault
that you are invisible
you have a striking resemblance
to a lightly drawn shadow
it isn't a mask that can wear you
no presence to strike
only loneliness can guide
any essence left from you
but then
isn't it always that way
for a woman without expression.
The sky in silvery blue veil, and
The moon;
Peering from the white silk foam of the clouds,
Below its territory
In a long white gown
Staring at her footsteps, Beauty
Walking to the gigantic cliff along the shore
Is she waiting for fulfillment of her burning desires?
Or is leaving things all behind?
Without expression of fear or joy
She throws a pebble into the sea
Splash raised the waves in the air then back
And the pain
From friendship to loneliness again
“Memories Leave Silently”**
The memories leave silently
so as not to disturb the now
tiptoeing through darkening corridors
stirring only motes of hidden dust.
Sliding through the grasp of weakened will,
unfelt amid the growing numbness
now – disconnected from – then
how – in search of – why.
Eyes search the familiar – for the known
lips form words without expression
tears – devoid of sting – dry saltless
memories leave – silently.
John G. Lawless
1/16/2016
**This poem was prompted by the phrase “memories leave silently” in the poem “A Time To Let Go” written by Silent One on PoetrySoup.
...of love; would'st thou speak without expression...
...would love without expression speak, if hearts were
moved without a smile; would we still yearn to kiss...
...for lips can say I love you; within their silent touch...
...their caress returns a dawning hope; of love that sang
but never spoke...
...but to whisper soft light musings, of a moment's fluid
embrace; oh how the seconds changed us, as our years
remained the same...
(And clearing my mind)
Written: by Tom Wright
January 2015
Oft times, without expression
I’m caught staring into space.
Where temporarily I’ve been ushered
To some bygone time or place;
Re-experiencing events, in living color
But without surrounding sound;
Blanked out, are poignant matters
Which earlier had thoughts bound;
But too soon realism is restored
And I hark back to a familiar place.
Whatever problems that may persist
I’ll be doing my best as I face.
Don’t lose sleep over what others might think about you
But rather over what God knows about you.
Tom
Death shrouds each
ancillary moment
Pain lashed without reason
A blind game against the sun
Humans turn against dirt
Where they search
Thoughtless configuration
My sense
Of cryogenic soul hovering
Imbuing fluids, mystery without expression
And creasing against
The wind of ideas
My only source of direction
When you speak germane
Fertilizer falls out
With no patience
To encircle the pants
You left trailing behind
Instead a tumor grows
Simultaneously banished
And buried under the surface
Without recognition
Sparse lashes span aged lids,
framing an eye that catches light
like the clearest glass.
The softest liquid sheen - of tears?
But the eye stares blankly
without expression.
No crinkle of joy, no distention of fear,
yet the pupil dilates, eclipsing the iris.
Snuffing out the moon.
And there, the faintest reflection...
watching, waiting.
He stares down Death itself
with no sign of fear.
*Inspired by Escher's "Eye"
Emerging from the downtown hardware store
I saw a strange funeral procession
Two black limo hearses were at the front
Then walked a man without expression
The man had a shaggy dog on a leash
A long string of people followed him
All of these people were in single file
That’s why I addressed the man on a whim
“Forgive me for asking; I’m curious”
“What type funeral procession is this”?
My wife’s in the lead hearse; my dog killed her
When she Bi*ched at me, he just went amiss
But I see there are two hearses up front
Alas, my mother-in-law was killed too
When she tried to help my wife, he killed her
Once my dog got mad, I knew they were through
I thought for a minute; then spoke real low
“I have a strange request, if you don’t mind”
“Is there a chance I could borrow your dog”?
Well sure, but you have to go get in line
~“SECRET”, to be or not to be is my life long concession,
essence of sacred heart or of the mind’s crooked obsession...
having sacred purpose or a Neanderthal digression...
by reaching the peaks of mind control freaks of worldly transgression!
~"BELIEVING" in our senators one hundred twelfth, Bull Session...
where wealth is represented, the poor face a great depression...
the poor, no score, special interest have the floor, closed session!
~"A WORLD POSSESSED", greatly depressed, indiscretion, repossession...
they say, learn a new profession, "in this world of aggression?"
~NEUROTIC DEPRESSION" [anxious obsession] without expression…
what do I choose...moral compression by legal profession…
of manic depression or sacred heart’s harmonic progression?
For and in honor of Shani Fassbender
And contest: “Tell me a Secret”
DEPRESSION II
In the park
Sitting where we sat
In the summer house
Only half hearing
Those last two words
“Someone else”
Staring off
The blank feeling
Aware only
Of a heavy emptiness
On top of my shoulders
The sky overhead
So blue
The day
So bright
So very warm
But not a bead
On this dead brow
If this were a scene
From some movie
There would be music
In minor key
An English horn
Cello
Dirty sax
Without expression
Droning on
In the distance
A phone booth
Just the image
Stirs slightly
And
Something tries
To rise
But
Over the weeks
I’ve become…ummm,
Comfortable
My vacant world…mmm,
Comfortable
Oh, please
Don’t disturb
The lost
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