(Finding) My still small voice...

Learning to find my voice, after years of hiding it..

I remember myself as a child..
Feeling locked away inside myself speechless..
Always internalizing, rationalizing, compromising
I never felt like I would ever experience total release.
Children were to be seen, and never heard
A rule we lived under in a small army called a family..
My voice grew small and inconsequential.

The venom of being shushed as it were,  ran through me.
Anger, frustration and pain abound in my belly
but boys were never allowed to cry.. hungry or not.
I felt many things.. and joy often graced my face
but bliss and excitement seldom joined in..
my joy was usually driven by my own eccentric mind..
boys were not suppose to carry on in such foolish tantrums
I swallowed hard and downed my still small voice..

As the teen years came and forced themselves upon me..
I grew gangly, long and awkward.. despised in myself..
To shy in my appearance, I let vanity take yet another small piece of my song.
I feared being shunned by the sharp wit and cunning of bitter tongues
I relented and let others speak my needs, and fill my mouth with their crass.

My anger became resentment, my frustration became rage
My pain a constant torment, often unheard.. I stood in silence unable to articulate.
Bliss and excitement, the foolish exuberance of my inner child was pushed ever deeper
so far down it could not find it's way back to the top.. and joy.
Well joy.. it tasted rather plain, dulled to a less then fulfilling existence.

As a young man.. I found myself wandering aimlessly..
Never knowing were to find help, or how to ask for it.
Trapped in a world that had no time for the ignorant, no time for me.
Jumping from lover to lover, unexpressed I found no relief..
Sadness filled the remainder of my half full glass, it brimmed over the top
skating down a slippery slope, it consumed everything it came in contact with,
even the remainder of my still small voice..

Love came and found me, cursing me as I am..
At least that's what I thought.. but.. as life settled, so did I..
I settled in the offering, not at all what I was needing..
I settled in my thinking.. and never gave resistance..
I swallowed hard the resentment that soon followed.

Fatherhood came.. when life finally thought me ready
My children my voice.. I spoke with loving hands..
I spoke with a generous heart.. I spoke warm embrace,
with kind eyes, soft and subtle, never offering a bitter tongue
but a gentle,  quiet reaffirming..
void of voice, I left my mark.
 
They taught me to stand up and be counted
to lash out at equality, and never settle for less then what I want.
to speak with action, leaving undo criticism to the naysayers
to do it for them, for they could not..
My voice trickled forth...

As I have grown older.. wiser in aged years
I have filled my life with many things, people called friends.
Contented I am full.. full of eclectic odds and ends
some cantankerous, and boisterous, lively or hardened
busy bodied in their own resentments, and failures
I have grown wise in my approach, trying never to offend
I have grown wise in my mutter, not to upset the applecart..

I am not the most eloquent poetaster.. nor the most clever writer
I am not even above average in intelligence, but I have found tranquility
Yet a simple man.. looking, digging for truth, for dignity, absolution
to shed my anger, my rage, and find that ever elusive release..
The piece that I have been missing all these years..
My still small voice..

Reviews

[Deviant Works]

Now wiping the tears from my eyes... You are a genius. A master of words. I could sit for hours reading and never grow bored. A small voice which rings in my ears. I hope you never become silent again. I pray you continue to share, helping writers like me aspire to be something more than a small voice.

[Everson Taveras]

Your objectivity and the way you question and ponder about things said, done and what wasn't, is revolutionary. Brilliant work here, far from exceptional to say the least.

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

our still small voice, let us pray that we never lose touch with it It is I believe our conscience. Lovely verse you have written here..........

[Fabian G. Franklin]

I'm still simple in my approach...open, honest and straightforward...say what I mean and mean what I say...never been any good at doing anything else...never cared what the consequences were. Still don't. My own voice is often loud and boisterous...but I find peace in quietude...I like the mountains in early morning or the forest or a walk by the sea...or just to sit at the lake and fish and think or be alone with a good book and someone elses thoughts. I'm not "happy with who I am" or "searching for my inner child"...I think we all need to improve daily and a few more people need to get in touch with their "inner adult". I mean all a child ever thinks about is...me, me , me. That's an awfully selfish existence. But love teaches us responsibility, sacrifice and hard work....nothing like being a parent to bring that into focus! And all that sweet, sugar coated candy, lace frilled sex appeal kissy kissy lust crap just blows away like so much pollen from the petals...and we learn what real love is...and its sure NOT about self. Just my two cents...er... twenty-five cents worth. But I think a person should be heard and seen and listen to others twice as much...might just learn something in the process...and anybody that's got so smart that they can't learn anymore is just plain stupid. ;o)

[Emily B]

so glad to extend you a warm welcome to the "i found my voice" club

[incwrite]

tears streaming down my cheeks...each stanza..amazing..
I am so thankful that you have found your voice..

[?]

WOW,
This is just awesome
Just wow
I love the last few lines,
The piece that I have been missing all these years..
My still small voice..

[Samuel Dickens]

Much of this sounds familiar to me. All of us are works in progress, but some more than others. Those of us (me included) who started out in life disadvantaged in some way have farther to go, I think, but that doesn't mean we'll not become who we want ourselves to be.

[Jeff]

Powerful poem. You did an outstanding job in creating this piece.

[Poetic Beauty]

this is expressed very clearly with the emotions flowing freely in this piece. I can't imagine what it was like to be a young child let alone a boy in your generation. Dads were hard on boy and girls had a whole different set of rules to follow and the list kept growing. This poem speaks of a time before I was born and how life has changed since then. the flow of this poem is done well and the story you have told is clear.

[SpokenWord]

I have to ask did this happen to you or is this your creative voice? From time to time I get to read a poem that I can see being performed more so than being read. Spoken Words are my passion more than the pen. Some things in this I can relate too, and I use to think that the quiet voice was weak and never heard but in fact it is stronger than anyone who screams louder than the sun. It's takes strength to be like this.

Your poem read like spoken words, maybe the sentences didn't rhyme but if one reads into it each line and word rhymed completely. This is more art than anything else. A true keeper.