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I'm not here
any longer its the wind I'm the wind rustling those too familiar sounds through my ears I'm not here I'm checking out so silent as to go unseen I'm the one wearing dull green and dull brown a mixture of earth so I might be stepped around I'm not here I'm checking out so silent as to go unseen not the usual tactic being quiet so the monsters avoid me at last the past not in this moment the past no longer adheres to me tightly and fast I thought I preferred attention but attention fades and is eaten up by the Mass my silence is the new re-invention my lease here has lapsed I'm not here I'm checking out so silent as to go unseen taking up space takes more talent than any talent I've been deemed I'm going back into the earth to the brown to the dirt-nap with the grass and the weeds a-mixed with the un-sightlies, the un-seemlies, the shriveled, the dried-up the un-green I'm checking out the white out's tipped over the silence of my experiment has granted me sweet invisibility so silence is the Never-never not again to be seen go ask the Doorman, ask the Night Manager, ask the Cabbie who always wore the same dirty jeans I'm checking out So quiet becomes the Grave as to be all that is unseen. Legal Copyright for this Poem 8:35pm PST 4/8/2019 and also for this Poet Melissa A. Howells and also for this legally copyrighted site title... MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD This was written directly for the page. I may or may not come back to re-edit. Blue Menu. There are many double-entendres contained within this poem ...The Grave means more than just a hole in the ground...it literally refers to the person writing this poem. There are also a lot of other-worldly metaphors The Doorman, The Cabbie, The Night Manager all refer to the literal person...but also a Being much greater than that. This poem may require more than one reading, if you want to make the effort. Thank you. Vote for this poem |
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