Chatterbox
The Whatn’ Who
Listen will ya.
A little common courtesy would go a loooong way.
But being of sound shadow and reflective of mind
Only allows for being the squeaky wheel
On rare occasions.
The Silenced Choir Voice:
So I was never an Opera singer but I enjoy vocalizing
Did it really matter that the dots representing music
Only indicated up and down directions?
Volunteers could be pros, but wasn’t fun supposed to
Play a part in participation?
The Disobedient Relative:
The phone - ether net of a different kind -
Doesn’t show my tongue sticking out at the caller
When they leave messages
That are supposed to be gentle reminders but
Really sound like chaulk scraping on a blackboard.
And you wonder why I don’t call ‘em back more often.
The Humble Subservient
So I put my left foot forward and stamped, huffed and puffed
And the ‘Solid Sport’ learned to say, “no” gently, but firmly -
More often. Free - free I’m free of committees!
And memberships, and groups where mouths tend to wag,
Nothing gets done and nobody listens anyway...
The Penumbra Knows
There are so many voices wanting to be heard, seeking recognition,
Wanting, longing, for the lost words that can never be spoken.
But being of sound shadow and reflective of mind...
Being a puppet of a creative muse; courtesy is sometimes short -
Listen will ya.
©JP/davh
I’ve been waiting in the shadows for a whole week...Listen, will ya. *giggle* sorry but I just couldn’t help it :)
All your shadows?! I'll bet you had fun with this one.
ReplyDeleteYes indeedy. Guess you could tell :)
DeleteAs Blogger is unkind and will not let some friends speak...I will
ReplyDeletepost for them...
From Neil (over at We Write Poems),
Poo. No Blogger comment for me. So here’s what I wanted to write…
Oh yes, I love all of this poem! And the chatterbox is not only appropriate to what you say, but a wonderfully creative play within the poem. I smile, I tip my hat!
Me, I hear just one voice so far as I hear. But this “gathering” of voices, very much feels whole, a whole from the union of all those bits. Oh, I love this poem more and more.
And it sounds to me like shadows are nothing unknown to you. Here we get to listen in to old friends in conversation as it were, and those relationships, casual and familiar. And the humor here is so very very right. Spot on! And a big gold star for using the word penumbra!
A very clever poem, yet its cleverness does not get in the way of the poem being itself.
~neil