Sunday, March 01, 2009


Witholding words and, thus, myself.
No trust enough to tell all to anyone.
No one anywhere who can coddle and absorb and still
remain the same, loving, after knowing all that is.

Indeed, myself as most do, parse words carefully, even
in our own hearts.

Some words are painted glossy to look better than they are.
Some are weighted so as to never surface, certainly not
in daylight for others, and often not either known in our
own nights.

Sometimes tripping over the shadows (there are always
shadows since nothing true disappears completely), the
bolt of pain in the stubbed toe flashing a memory of self
back to surface. A moment only long enough to frantically
push it back into the basement and slam the door closed again.
Looking behind self, fearful that someone might have noticed,
might have recognized an unadmitted truth.
Then walked away. Ashamed for knowing.

But, no. No one else.
I keep myself alone enough to pick and choose, pick and choose
carefully, what words will be dressed for dinner.
Offered on a gilt-edge platter. Will be only my best at any table shared.
Why do we fluster so about how to know others while we fail
to know ourselves?

Words not spoken may reveal more truth than those brandished
in the open.

Not at all what you would think.
If you saw.
If you knew.


boneman said...

very good stuff! favorite line being, (if you don't mind me picking it out?)
what words will be dressed for dinner

That came complete with a picture!

Jean said...

Thank you, Berry.
It felt like a different voice in my head as I wrote.

boneman said...

you know Walking Man uses an excellent method in his writings.
When you first rouse at predawn, which some of us do, stay up and write then.
Get a cup of coffee, but, don't clean the dishes or fuss with the house.

Just sit and write without the world clammoring for your attention.

('clammoring?' What? A bunch of smiling mullusks?)

Jean said...

I think everyone finds a method that works for them, eventually. Obviously, that works very well for him.
For me? Well, I'm very lacking in discipline, as in, making a schedule and sticking to it. Very rarely can I force myself to write, like a school assignment. I have to be ready to makes notes at any time.
That's just weird me :-)