PARADISE LOST
I could say nothing
and still the thoughts would come,
some questioning in disbelief
like marauding cats, persistent
upon the hauntings of old bones and scraps,
some creative, toying with mayhem
of my own making, and for what?
Still the pictures would come
from the other side of older deaths
that stick to walls
held by winds that blow
from God knows where -
livid scars that shout for attention.
I could say nothing
but am afraid to go unheard, unheeded
downtrodden
into an obscure present
that can live with my ghost
as it chooses its own channels
to tune out on what I crave.
raypool
Tue 16th Jul 2019 21:52
Graham, Jon, Lisa, Devon and Rebecca many thanks indeed for
reading and liking .
To be honest David, I didn't have a specific thought here but there was a sort of reaching out to try and clarify why we need to express ourselves to echoes of the past haunting us, an uncontrollable facet of life, and how when faced with the present we might feel inadequate in simply adapting to its demands to a non caring world.
Your points are entirely sensible of course, on the other hand if nobody is really listening what then? Perhaps the madness you mention is the real motivation of what creates mayhem , therefore it might be inherent in the human condition. I like your final point of persuasion, my own view!.
Thanks Rachel, I seem to sway between ideas of what might be greater than the sum of our parts in a spiritual way and the challenges of the humdrum life we sometimes live. There is a refuge in expression . I certainly think silence is essential to recharge ourselves, a rare thing now as nature is often overrun by people making lots of noise. When I used the word ghost It was a metaphor for the invisible (to others) and not being heard or accepted I suppose.
Ray