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Steve Page Apr 2023
After Do Not Be Ashamed by Wendell Berry

Unashamed

You can mute yourself at will
Or find you've hit mute in error.

On ocassion you might find
someone has muted you.

You can go off camera.
Observe and listen.
Unseen, unheard.
Ocassionally waving in the hope
that you will be called upon
to contribute
to comment
on the wisdom of others.

And after a while, on realising that
you've gone unnoticed, unneeded,
you give yourself permission
to walk away,
to simply listen in
while making a cup of tea.

And after a while, you walk out,
to test your necessity
and you won't be surprised
to find it wanting.

But then
as you return.
as you choose candour,
bear your inward clarity
raise your yellow hand,
as you select unmute, unashamed
click camera, unashamed
and find room, find voice -
then a sure screen will rise
from the margins and their eyes
will seek you out
and the mic is yours.
I recommend the original Do Not Be Ashamed by Wendell Berry https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?contentId=30634
I S A A C Apr 2023
ticket to the train station
tempted to train my motivation
singing swan songs for my salvation
toking for a moments vacation, coaching vocation
warp the world around my thumb
sway to the beats of my drum
angels pick me up, scared to become
all the things i have been ashamed of
iridescent sparkles that were judged as vain
steady shovelling the ****, shaving down the over grown bushes
the path was there all along; i see her now
what the **** was i even doing
i want to be someone who helps.
i want to be someone who hears.
i don't want to be who harms.
i don't want to be one who haunts.
i want to be one with open hands.
i want to be one with open heart
give me the chance.
and i will
Cait Feb 2023
shame used to bleed out of me
vulnerability an open wound
i desperately tried to hide

until i found i could stand it no longer
and buried the emotion behind smiles and laughter
acting as though i hide nothing in my heart
Zywa Jan 2023
It is just broken,

but no one said anything --


that is the bad thing.
"Het Bureau - Plankton" ("The Office - Plankton", 1997, Han Voskuil)

Collection "Not too bad [1947-1973]"
Alex Jan 2023
My sick little love
My close-hidden dove
My one, my only, my man.
Call to me
Talk to me
Promise me that you can.
I am yours till death
Yours till the end
Your till the end of time, my love
Kismet will know.
Did he say Kismet or Kiss me? I suppose we'll never know.
Zywa Jan 2023
We were once ashamed

together, now I'm ashamed --


of you, against you.
Memoirs-novel "Combat et métamorphoses d'une femme" ("A Woman's Battles and Transformations", 2021, Édouard Louis)

Collection "Shelter"
ZS Jan 2023
age 6
you said “this is what friends do”
and placed a kiss on my lips

tell me how a kiss on the lips
became hands in pants
became “you can’t tell anyone”
when you saw my nervous excited scrawls about what we did in my diary

age 6
shame?
but I thought this is what friends did
I know now I’ll never tell my mother

age 7
you said you’d catch me a salamander
“okay”
I slip away a little more each time

age 8? 9?
these years are a blur
I know your brother touched me too

still never got that salamander

age 10
your fingers still ghost my skin
year to year

“i won’t bully you anymore if you be my girlfriend”
enough is enough
i slam my full body weight on those ugly hands

age 12
“I know what you did”
says your friend
I haven’t seen you in two years
yet you still come up to haunt me

age 14
“hey, you still live down the street? We should date”
how do you not realize what you’ve done

age 22
“Was he hot?” an old friend asks, probably on drugs
I show him your picture, shaking

later on I break an 8 year silence to ask you why.
“it didn’t happen again after that”
“it had a lot to do with age”
why can’t you just say sorry.

age 24
I still think about the things we did
you did
friends don’t kiss
friends don’t put their hands in each others pants
And I’ll still never tell my mother
this one is about some of my childhood trauma. TW: Child on child ****** abuse, molestation, traumatic events,
Please tell me your name...

You're always around me, I feel we should acquaint.

I think I've known you a long time, a look, a glance and a funny feeling in my stomach when joy sparks.

Are you within me or from some external flame?

A strong internal burning, not fire but shame.
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