blank paper

blank paper

paper was blank
no words to be read
where were the words?
all in my head

in my head
words play a quiet game
a game
that speaks to the dead

dead are silently listening
dead are at their repose
dead can't utter a single phrase
except for one of expose

exposing -- what one may ask
in this unfinished
unequaled
-- task

a query than none may
question
an inquiry that quenches no
-- thirst

they're all dead
what could they ask
what words could they
read

all of them
all of them

then some
-- indeed
we may heed
perhaps not today

but some day
-- soon

thirst -- began on
first day
search from which we
all -- all may drink


from least fool to last fool
gone on the blink
of a
wink

least to last
paper is blank
-- no words
to -- read

road it is rank
please take caution
stench is -- growing
by fear seeded

-- surely knowing . . .

fear -- mind killer
destroyer of souls
fiendish fear --
falsehood that grows

horror and panic
suspicion -- mistrust
banquet of lies
upon us they thrust

when will they end
their canards -- prevarications
misrepresentations
-- of truth?

I don't know
-- they certainly won't tell
one lie
-- becomes another

smother to smothering
other

telling truth is
far
far -- easier -- to
recall

no lies -- no lies
no lies at
-- all.

vcp

30 July 2015




Poetry by Victor
Read 648 times
Written on 2015-07-31 at 01:22

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Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
To me this is about people not writing or speaking up about injustices. Lines like "smother to smothering other" and the ones about blank paper and lines in head tell me that these things though smothered are not forgotten. Nice work.
2015-08-03


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
There is a concept in the commercial code of Poland called.
"carto blanco" blank page. It is the beginning of all contracts. The reference is that there is nothing assumed or taken for granted or a precident that is in place. Only what is written on the "carto blanco" defines the contract.

Your poem seems to say the same thing but from a philosophical or spiritual stance. You have written this very well.
2015-07-31



You speak to the dead but they seldom talk back. This poem is evocative and it keeps going on deeper and deeper into thoughts.
The blank paper waiting for the conversation with the dead. They would have so much to tell us, but they can't. The living are left to figure it all out on our own until our turn comes.
No lies ... the dead tell no lies? I need to have more conversations with the dead, but ... no ... in my case I want them to stay dead ... and quiet.
Ashe
2015-07-31


ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
In all your work , I can see so much to write on Victor. A case of spoilt for choice! Such is the lot of the writer. :)
Ken D
2015-07-31