Some folks may remember that I talked about being a writer in the past...

Damocles

Damocles

Accedo!
Staff member
I found a poem a wrote a little bit ago. I'm going to put it in here... Let y'all give me some opinions.

Silence as My Guide

I hear my name upon her lips at last,
A whispered breath that soft as angels falls.
My soul leaps high, yet must the joy be masked,
For walls of duty stand like ancient walls.

Her humor lights the darker corners deep,
Her mind a flame that kindles every thought;
Her beauty steals the very air I keep,
Her voice the song my restless heart has sought.

We met when both our lives were still unmade.
Through all the years the children grew I kept
This secret buried, never once betrayed,
Though every quiet hour the longing slept.

Now she has asked that we might stay in touch.
I cannot tell if help is what she needs,
Or if she, too, has carried just as much--
Or whether all of this is only me.

We pass upon the stair; her hand brushes mine--
A second’s contact, then the quick rebound.
Too many ears would catch the smallest sign;
I bury what I feel without a sound.

I never spoke the words that burned inside,
And still I walk with silence as my guide.
And still I walk with silence as my guide.
 
goat said:
Too sappy. It explains your devotion to the Posse. Your clan needs a safe-space for their feelings in the War Zone.
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Right. I don't think the posse was anywhere near me back in the day. It is sappy, it was supposed to be.
 
Her humor lights the darker corners deep,
Her mind a flame that kindles every thought;
Her beauty steals the very air I keep,
Her voice the song my restless heart has sought.
~Damo

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Damocles said:
I wrote this back in High School LOL.
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romeo.gif
 
Here's a little poem of sorts I wrote back in 2014-15 or so, well after my return from the Nam:

Forty Five years since Vietnam,
Truly life not so calm,

Family ties severed at best,
Love relationships weak I guess,

Various vocations taking back seat,
Appointments and rules cannot meet,

Stress and anxiety of daily life,
So enormous can cut with knife,

Don't ask why more don'ts than do's,
Unless you walked in stressed out shoes,

Hope for the future day by day,
With love of children bring what may,

There may be sunshine outside,
But feelings inside make one want to hide.
 
LOL. I'll drop the other half:

When I turned it in for grades they were side by side... I'll see if I can do that here too.

Silence as My Guide

Two voices, one silence​

His Voice

I hear my name upon her lips at last,
A whispered breath that soft as angels falls.
My soul leaps high, yet must the joy be masked,
For duty stands as firm as ancient walls.

Her humor lights the darker corners deep,
Her mind a flame that kindles every thought;
Her beauty steals the very air I keep,
Her voice the song my restless heart has sought.

We met when both our lives were still unmade.
Through all the years the children grew I kept
This secret buried, never once betrayed,
Though every quiet hour the longing slept.

Now she has asked that we might stay in touch.
I cannot tell if help is what she needs,
Or if she, too, has carried just as much—
Or whether all of this is only me.

We pass upon the stair; her hand brushes mine—
A second’s contact, then the quick rebound.
Too many ears would catch the smallest sign;
I bury what I feel without a sound.

I never spoke the words that burned inside,
And still I walk with silence as my guide.
And still I walk with silence as my guide.​
Her Voice

I speak his name when no one else can hear,
A whispered breath I never dare to raise.
My heart leaps high, yet must the joy stay near,
For watching eyes still guard my every phrase.

His humor once could light the heaviest day,
His mind a flame that answered every thought;
His quiet strength still steals the air away,
His voice the song my guarded heart has sought.

We met when both our lives were still unmade.
Through all the years the children grew I kept
This secret buried, carefully afraid,
While others, meaning well, the distance swept.

I see him rarely; whole talks pass unsaid,
Yet something in the silence feels aligned.
I am still drawn to him, though full of dread,
And cannot know if he can read my mind.

We pass upon the stair; my hand brushes his—
A second’s contact, then the quick rebound.
I break the quiet, hoping he will hear:
“Come find me,” soft, the words that burned inside.

I barely whispered words that burned inside,
Will still he walk with silence as his guide?
Will still he walk with silence as his guide?​


d
 
Thanks for sharing. Do you recall what led you to repeat the refrain at the end? My first thought was that the repetition makes the silence feel less like a conclusion and more like something the speaker is resigned to continuing.

If you removed the repetition, the ending would feel cleaner and more traditionally final. Keeping it makes the ending more haunting and unresolved.
 
zymurgy said:
Thanks for sharing. Do you recall what led you to repeat the refrain at the end? My first thought was that the repetition makes the silence feel less like a conclusion and more like something the speaker is resigned to continuing.

If you removed the repetition, the ending would feel cleaner and more traditionally final. Keeping it makes the ending more haunting and unresolved.
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The goal was to make it not end... I was attempting to make the regret palpable, real, understandable. Hope and regret. You managed to hit the right motive, I want it to be haunting... regret so deep it hurts.

Think of Robert Frost and his "And miles to go before I sleep"... in Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening, the repetition leads you to think of different miles to go before he sleeps... Not just that night. My first iteration, if I remember I put a question mark on the second repetition... but it didn't feel right.
 
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