recognizingthevoiceless

[recognizingthevoiceless]

playing along

cuz

was

not exactly tagged not necessarily stoned either but rolling

gray is my favorite color not really like a mr jones guitar - blue maybe

last song bumpin on sunset - watching idk a new zealand mystery tonight

craving everything - inhaling not quite forbidden coffee

was singing like a white winged dove - edge of 17 stevie nix and also troubles by ren who if u havent heard u otter

corn chips thin and slightly sea salted

a stephen king briefly opened

headphones or speakers - buds never not even on an airplane

went to grocery (walkin like in memphis not flying) a street fair later

everybody looks good in black dont they

saw sum trailers a couple weaks ago but dont remember any

[recognizingthevoiceless]

The house remembers your footsteps in the empty floorboards, a hollow hum in my ribs where the music of your being used to live.

[recognizingthevoiceless]

Whatever makes you happy

A simple joy,

Is no worse than one profound,

Now I know it's not grand,

Rather fleeting at that,

No substitute for the latter to be sure,

But a cat enjoying a ray of sun,

Can be enough fun,

To last me until tomorrow.

[recognizingthevoiceless]

I am memory molded into matter And before memory, Where choice and mystery meet, My soul was suspended in stilness Imperfection as initiation, In the breaking, Something dormant wakes up Not by accident but by resonance

I was not placed here by chance I was placed here because my presence matters

I think of my body, not as a mistake But as the shape my soul chose to speak through I think of my family, not as a burden or a blessing But as a group of souls walking beside me Through the fog of forgetting I think of my time, not as chaos But as the very soul in which i'm meant to grow

I don't have to be famous to be gifted I don't have to be extraordinary to be essential Every gift when used with love becomes light And light is what I came here to bring

The grief that keeps returning, that's the forge The patience i cultivated in silence, that's the key

I ask myself what challenge keeps finding me And what strength i keep forgetting i have

My pain is purpose My gift is real Even if i haven't found it yet

[recognizingthevoiceless]

pail.txt

[recognizingthevoiceless]

Hi, This Is Mom. Please Give Me A Call When You're Not Busy.

Someday I will write in a room lit only by the sun, where the walls are hid behind spines and the wind comes  and helps itself to my pages.

I will wander around the garden and pick a bouquet of roses, bring them in, and let their scent replace the smell of breakfast.

My fingers will leap with Debussy and Ravel and there will be no one to chide me as I loudly sing a portion of a song I know well.

When the moon comes ‘round I will invite her in. We will stretch out together on the rug and contemplate the turning of the stars and how the sun never forgets his way.

And in the morning, I will wake beside a pillow  untouched, and listen for a sound, any sound to remind me who I am. I will call my children and invite them to lunch. 

[recognizingthevoiceless]

Tell me, how exactly does one brace

for a knife

when all you offered was your throat

as a gesture of peace?

[recognizingthevoiceless]

Sometimes you stop living,

And just survive for a while,

And that's okay I think.

[recognizingthevoiceless]

Your heavy tarot reading, punching

square in the face of summer,

is keeping me mindful of what's considered being.

Vibrate mode to my buzzing thoughts,

your storage might try taking over days and nights.

Scent of clean glass from dishwashing while

watching our neighbor from the window, I go

through much more in this world than you planned.

My priority lies now in falling into video holes and

staying asleep...

[recognizingthevoiceless]

Peace

Peace is like a pure gardenia, blooming out in the sunlight. It gives to those who are willing to lend its beauty to others and use it for good.

However, our choices, our violent, choices makes this peace almost impossible. Blood tears the gardenia, and cries of agony bleeds it. The grenades uproot it, leaving it to die amidst the shot, blown up parts of houses and people and glass.

And I am alone, looking at that gardenia in my hand. --Elda Mengisto

Author's Note: This is a poem I've written ~10-15 years ago; I really liked writing message poems and this was one of them. I'm posting it now as a response to the U.S. bombing of Iranian nuclear sites; hopefully this will be the end of American military involvement (especially as Congress hasn't declared war), and negotiations will continue between all parties.

[recognizingthevoiceless]

you're the curator of my art, you know.

you alone see all the words,

every side, each puzzle piece.

others see half-- what i show.

you, my muse, see the full spectrum,

each forward step-- the backward slides.

i know-- another burden of responsibility.

i like to hope this weight is joyful,

but that might be my own illusion.

i still think of you as my twin.

i dare not contemplate otherwise.

together or apart, the full measure

of whatever i contribute to art is yours.

my tiny castle built on sands of life.

you've held the whole in your arms.

i wouldn't have it another way.

in my longing, i see your hazel eyes,

your playground smile, and weariness.

[recognizingthevoiceless]

Their World

The disorders are manageable most days– until they’re not until you’re not

It becomes less about coping; finding all the little ways to make your life easier And more about how it’s a struggle for others to deal with you.

You are being difficult. You are so difficult. You’re exhausting everyone.

You should really be more appreciative of their sacrifices.

This is not about you. They don’t dislike you. They do not, not like you.

It’s just that this is all so hard for them. Everything with you is so painstakingly time-consuming.

You flinch now every time you have to ask a question–

Are you asking for too much?

You cannot afford to be a burden.

Stop talking, 

don’t make a scene–

If you need, really need, something, be sure to make your request sound optional.

You are not allowed to be demanding; never, under any circumstances, make them feel guilty.

Perhaps it isn’t fair, but that doesn’t matter.

This is not about you–

You just need to work harder, of course, that doesn’t mean life will ever pause just to let you take a break.

So don’t waste your time complaining; you are already so far behind.

Besides, nothing will ever change the fact this world;

their world was not built for you.

[recognizingthevoiceless]

Spiraling

You’re a failure

You failed

You fail at everything

You fail at marriage

You fail at family

And you’re fat

You’re not attractive

You never were

You’re a joke

Not even a has been

Just a never was

Living in the past

Hoping for someone

To also look back

And come find you

To bring you back to the future

But guess what

They all saw through you

And the decadence

That’s why you can’t be happy

Because you often think

Is she too dumb to see

What they all saw?

Or how long before she leaves?

What will be the circumstance?

Should have stayed alone

Mom and dad let you know

You were born alone

And you will die alone

Should’ve listened

And gone underneath the porch

[recognizingthevoiceless]

This is your personal war.

Against your own inner demons.

The great fear in your heart.

Your own prison, to which you unbeknownst to yourself got the key.

I can stand by your side.

I can lend you my hand.

I can be there and support you.

But I can't fight your war for you.

[recognizingthevoiceless]

I will wait,

and I will

wait

for you.

Because that’s what I do.

That’s what I do:

wait

for you.

And for him, I do too,

they are there,

those two.

So I wait and I wait,

because love makes you hate.

So I sit, and I

wait,

and I hate,

and I

take.

June 2025

[recognizingthevoiceless]

Pathetic Man Child

She doesn’t want you

Take the hint and walk away

Put the pen down and blow away

Begging on bended knees

For a look of awe and wonder

See the writing on the wall it’s bare

Where are you going?

With no direction you’re lost at sea

Trying to use stars for light and a guide

Only one thing at a time

Stuck in a cul-de-sac suburban living

Time so wastefully spent no room for PNP

That look said, don’t ask me

I don’t want to tell you no for a fifth time

Completely understood in the blink of an eye

That no body wants you, all you had

Was a pity party thrown your way just a bone

And you took it as soul mate once in a lifetime

Experience short sighted for shame

Shes a free spirit not to be subjugated

By the likes of you and a white picket fence

She feeds your desire with swinging hips

To lure and entice you she’s fishing for seamen

And once she catches you she just throws you back in

How easy it is to create

A fictitious world of make believe

Only one kind word has you screaming

Pick me I’m the one!

That person you’re looking for!

That’s someone that I’m dying to be!

[recognizingthevoiceless]

Underwater

For my eyes feel heavy

when it gets out of control,

these bubbles pop!

but fall on deaf ears...

suffocating me slowly;

watering my lungs like flowers

only for Death to blossom

slowly stealing my air

and no one hears

as no one is there...

Fae @