"Afternoon, Wednesday, 25 October 2023

another pause

“Afternoon, Wednesday, October 25, 2023”

 

Chris reviewed Ana B. 's poem A quiet rust

 

Decisions, decisions… or in another time's frame -

"Which way do I go George, which way do I go?"

 

Life has this way of "Imperative"

and it's always NOW!

Though later we see "NOW" meant

well, not yet, …it's ok

you need to work/talk it through

with yourself first… but -

OH, you did/said what?!?

Well that was ok -

oh it was/wasn't or not enough

or too much, too little, too late…

always too …something.

But life DEMANDS -

and damn, we acquiesce.

Sigh…

 

Chris

 

We walk alone -

‘til we don’t

…a conscious choice -

we hope so.

But, for many, desperation

is a breath away.

And then what?

 

Mornings hurt,

so we fill our silence

with “white” noise.

Noise fills our eyes

but the ears?  They await

and wait, and wait…

an endless drawing out of

what it means to be us.

 

“NOWs” ARE so attractive,

distracting,

demanding,

intoxicating,

unnerving,

deserving,

so made-a-wish full.

And our “peers” push us

actually - either way -

toward or away.

Do we choose for us

or them?  We ARE such

social creatures.

 

Nights are as chill as we allow

or as heated as we are beguiled…

and the ghostlets crowd close at midnaughts

across the world.

 

We have no room for tears

- ‘til we do cry.

And we KNOW - inside -

our tears are for us

…because living hurts,

the silence isn’t golden,

and we live our sitcoms -

which are always about …hurts…

and our own recognition of self

and our insignificances.

 

Chris

Author's Note

feel free

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

Sometimes, no - often we suppose too much, end up wrapping selves in a web of disbelief .. for selves. Your words read so lonely, so doubtful as if life has passed by, isolating mind and body as if a nothing being hiding behind - a 'what'. How I wish we could sit on either side of a table, share words, discuss and ponder. It can be done.. if allowed, permitted, invited.

' We have no room for tears
- ‘til we do cry.
And we KNOW - inside -
our tears are for us
…because living hurts,
the silence isn’t golden,
and we live our sitcoms
which are always about …hurts…
and our own recognition of self
and our insignificances.'

I and other may well nod at those beautiful but heart-hurt words, Chris, but chances are that some expect too much from their own sitcom and others - too many, add little or nothing to it. As always you add sadness but truth to space, nudge the heart, touch the mind then.. perhaps stay quiet when words can always be there if asked for. You use language as your past has - with great courage and more, sir.

[Thomas W Case]

Powerful work, Chris. You nailed it. Superb.

[Chris]

I still write but post way less often.

[Neville]

co-joint reflective ruminations in the first & third person (sounds like a Dali masterpiece) but it aint .. it's a moment capture precisely & poemed for posterity .. and so very bloomin well .. surely a keepsake .. Neville

[poetgurl]

Wow! This is full of emotions, I like what Emmajoygreen has to say.
nicely expressed

[Chris]

Life as we live it - as only WE can. Stop by any time and always be you.