remember how you held your hands
over your ears singing
"na, na, na i can't hear you"
to drown me out?
cacophony
that word once thrilled me
nowadays, it's awkward to text
way too many characters
size doesn't matter
but form does
it takes deliberation
to be brief
only the birds twitter meaningfully
me, i need depth
substance or silence
please
sometimes i hate the sound of my own voice
gobble gobble gobble
drivel rant babble
just shut the fuck up
so don't blow me a kiss in passing
i want to taste your lips
feel your tongue
or forget it
lscollison/2009
My grandmother Mary Virginia Leonard was a person I admired immensely. I like to think she had a profound influence on my life, she and her husband John W. We grandkids called our grandparents
Bobo and
Bebop. They were stalwart, resourceful, vital, wise.
Bobo lived to be 103, her mind pretty sharp until the end. She had a stroke, about five years before she died, which left her speechless. Nor was she able to write. When I visited her she would try to tell me something, and from the look in her eyes I knew it was important, but she couldn't articulate the words, and the tears spilled in frustration.
What if words were like money? A resource, a treasure? What if an evil fairy cast a spell, giving me only 50 words, after which I would fall mute forever? The equivalent of one tweet, what would I say? And to whom?
We spend our words like chump change, and so often the words are thoughtless, inane, cruel, or just clutter the air, rain down on the floor, devoid of any value.
I'd like to take a vow of silence, at least for a while. I'll start with 60 seconds. Beginning now.
