Can you believe the fact that there are people who go out for a full day and come back home and say there’s no story to tell, no incident to narrate, nothing magical to report. Of course, there is. It’s just that they do not wish to share. It could be disinclination, it could be the hangover of a recrimination, it could be tiredness.
After a full day of words, maybe all one seeks at the end is a spot of silence.
That it has to be the time when your closest and most loved ones are there is a misfortune. Here they ...
Can you believe the fact that there are people who go out for a full day and come back home and say there’s no story to tell, no incident to narrate, nothing magical to report. Of course, there is. It’s just that they do not wish to share. It could be disinclination, it could be the hangover of a recrimination, it could be tiredness.
After a full day of words, maybe all one seeks at the end is a spot of silence.
That it has to be the time when your closest and most loved ones are there is a misfortune. Here they are, home bound, captive to a routine, grinding the relentless machinery of a home, and here you are wanting nothing but a time to yourself, after mortgaging your time, soul and throat in the service of someone who has bought your life out by providing you a livelihood.
And then there’s the contrarian tragedy.
The day is often a pressure cooker because you have not been able to say what you wanted or fought your battles the way you might have wanted to. And when you are finally in your safe zone, you burst out. Irresponsibly, with limitless capacity to let go. And everything goes still. Hurt. There was no battle and everyone stands bruised. Because words have an unparalleled capacity to tear the untearable, split armours, break hearts. And as human beings we are masters at destroying.
I have often mused on this almost unseemly power of words. They are mere wisps, created just there and then, like smoke, like breath, they are just a combination of syllables and vowels and abbreviations and intonations, things which have no stinger to sting or teeth to bite or touch for tenderness built into them, and they still have this illimitable capacity to comprehensively change everything around.
It’s so easy to say - it’s just words. But it’s never ‘just’ words. It’s like breath from inside, an amalgam of our feeling, desire, anger, passion which alchemises into something heated, cool or plain. Words are never words, they are our footprint on the soul of the one who listens or reads us. It is our foray into the heart and body and soul of people who care to bother with them. Even strangers are not immune to their power.
Other people’s words are important for us because we internalise what others say. We take words spoken to us as opinions about us. Breath transmutes into life. The power of words can make. Words can also break.
If you liked this poem, consider listening to these other poems on tiredness -
- Let Life Break Your Heart
- Who Do You Choose To Become When Alone
- An Onanist's Guide to Loneliness
Follow me on Instagram at @sunilgivesup.
Get in touch with me on uncutpoetrynow@gmail.com
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The following music was used for this media project:
Music: Emotions 2 by Frank Schroeter
Free download: https://filmmusic.io/song/10547-emotions-2
License (CC BY 4.0): https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
Music: Violet Sky by Frank Schroeter
Free download: https://filmmusic.io/song/10591-violet-sky
License (CC BY 4.0): https://filmmusic.io/standard-license
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