Speaking, Not Talking

For hours I speak from end to end,
but my lips never flinch as my mouth
is shut through silence.

 

With pencils and brushes I speak
through images drawn. Soft light curves
depict equanimity as strong sharp lines come
though animus. Emotions fluctuate as colors
paint black and white figures. Various pictures
produced by my hands reveal each a different story
as images painted come to life on once white papers.

 

With varied instruments my fingers come to play
I speak through the music composed.
Smooth beats bounce to and forth as fingers strum
light strings on a slim neck. Notes intertwine
ringing sweetly or booming boisterously
in the air producing songs revealing unspoken words,
but no lyrics. Finger dance on keys tapping strings
as hidden songs live in the open.

 

With a pen in hand I speak through words written.
Truth entangles with lies in poetic forms
as feelings tattoo papers in a lonely notebook.
Words, words, and more words no longer stand
pusillanimously as they play with thoughts
and emotions turning writing into images flowing
through the mind. Hidden meanings come through
between the lines of meanings interpreted by others.
Words come and go from my bleeding pen
speaking of what never leaves my mouth.

 

For hours I speak from end to end,
but my mouth stays shut in silence.
Nothing needs to leave these lips of mine
as I speak through other media as paint
paints pictures, fingers play songs, and pens
write words to speak what my mouth never says.

Reviews

[DeAn]

wow, this is very profound and entoxicating. it held me all the way thru and spoke as you say without the gift of voice. it is an excellent write and the synergy of it leaves one with a well fed literary experience.

excellent job!

l8r g8r
-Tao