Silence is quite unusual, really.

Because Sound is always there.
It ticks away in the background like a friendly face in a classroom on that first day at a new school; someone to greet you and wash any and all fears from the very depths of  your soul, bringing with it that ever-welcomed sense of reassurance, that everything really will be okay

The gentle sigh of inhalation.

Sound is always there.
Even in the darkest days when nothing is going right and all you want to do is curl up in a ball and cry; your ever-familiar friend will guide you into tasting the salty tears which glide seamlessly and endlessly down your cheek until suddenly they’re not and you can hear your breathing and see a glimmer of hope in the sky but you can hear your breathing and you know that you’re not alone, you’re never alone, you were never alone and after everything that has happened you finally stop and take a deep breath and think that everything really will be okay

The steady plod of a heartbeat.

Sound is always there.
It passes by, day in and day out, as reliable as the chirping of birds raising you from the depths of sleep on the first day off you’ve had in months; outwardly you curse and you groan but on the inside you don't care because you're happy and you're safe and you've got a comfortable bed and a warm home and people who love you and it is in these moments that you are really are finally sure that everything really will be okay

The careless whisper of exhalation.

Sound is always there.
Apart from when it’s not and you are left alone and scared and in the dark and there’s nothing that you can do; nothing that anyone can do and suddenly everything stops and you feel the crushing pain dominate your entire being and it is painful yet strangely relaxing yet you just want it all to stop and carry on and stop and you don't know what you want, what you should want, all you want is somebody to reassure you that everything really will be okay but you know that it won’t; you won’t; you won’t be okay ever again but all you want is your familiar friend to come back and reassure you but they won’t because they're gone now and they've just left you alone with the silence that they've always protected you from, kidding you that everything really will be okay

But it won’t.

You know it won’t.

It really is true that silence is that deafening.

I sway in the tree of dreams
Far from the ground of harsh realities
This freedom comes to mind
From a view seldom seen today
The peaceful breeze carries me,
away in a daydream
Into a new world of discovery
How refreshing it is to breathe
Deep, with no sense to hurry
The man-made deadline absent
In the nature of time aligned
In space this was created
To set the centre stage alive
This is the place to visit to remind
The mind where it ‘set in motion’
The imaginative exploration for tomorrow

Raindrops up above, concrete down below
Whistles in the air
And then I realize
There’s me, there’s me
Walking down cold streets
Breathing down some air
Feeling a gulp on my hair
The wind feels so fair
And then I realize
There’s me, there’s me
I let the world continue to brush my hair,
The wind’s my compass and my fairy
***** of newspaper scrambling by the streets
I take some knowledge, I take some air
This very moment is what I wear
No rush
No rush, just smile and take a mighty hush

~~~

The unsung heroes
They work every day
Without complaint
At a job with low pay.

There are not many are out there
Who place their laurels
On the person who's right
But ends a quarrel.

It takes a person
Internally strong
To accept a defeat
And say they were wrong!

Those little things matter!
But don't get much ink
Like the husband who shaves
And cleans up the sink!

The mother who picks up
The toys from the stairs
The wife who cleans drains
And removes the hair.

The child who sees
That grandma is old
And therefore replaces
The toilet roll!

The boyfriend who remembers
The day of first date
A girl who pays dutch
To help out her mate.

Remember that you
Are needed and wanted!
So many small tasks
Are taken for granted.

At last the bell
Is taken and rung
For the persons who do this...

... *the heroes unsung.

Now in this season
It smells like sweet honey nectar,
Thick, warm pollen that heavies the air, that
Overarching succulent sweetness I can
Never find. I'm nearly
Dreaming in the midst of day,
Lack of sleep sharpens this
Feeling of loss that doesn't coincide with
The growth around me - My mind
Is falling back a quarter year, another,
Chilled over somehow in direct sunlight -

                    My hunger could be assayed with
                    Those honeyed towers somewhere blooming, but
                    I've not been told where to find them -

Stumbling along with aching limbs and
Exhausted heart, forced anxious smile,
Can't seem to find these supposed fruits
That hang down at reach, give way to new days -
Just quiet, vacant preludes
Along all these miles of solitude.

I wonder if she thinks about me at all
I wonder if me being hesitant messed up my chances
Maybe she still wants me to make a move
I'll never know
Each day my heart grows
Wondering
Despite a relationship being present with her
I wonder if she still thinks about me
I may have came out too strong
With a decorated note two years ago
But I don't feel wrong
Just regretful
That I haven't made a move before you did with somebody else.

The taste left by the bitterness of anger
unlike that which is caused by over-indulgence
cannot be forced away by milk of magnesia
but by humility, understanding and forgiveness.

Oft times it is humility which leads to
a thoughtful understanding which in turn promotes
feelings of forgiveness that are quietly kept
but which serve as unspoken personal antidotes.

But what elation when normal calmness returns
to fill the soul with so much joy and peace
If anger serves to do nought else – then appreciate
that pleasantry which follows the ire’s release.

©Joe Wilson – I was angry, but it passed 2014