in the unsaid lies the malady
valiantly defied by words
spoken into the void
in an attempt to avoid
the unsaid

shall we start again
and actually say this time
i am utterly fed up
with unsaying
with being always too afraid

between the pauses
of these empty words
lies heartache and tears
made all the worse
for lapping against this dam

i'd smash it down entirely
were it not for this fear
that what would emerge
might flow in directions
i cannot afford to go

instead i keep taking it down
one small brick at a time
as my courage allows
expending my remaining efforts
in dealing with the seepage

i would coral it still
building further fortifications
as does a child on the beach
digging fast and furiously in a bid
to contain the sea itself

for i want what i don't want
and in that contradiction lies a key
to the door of something
i can only guess at as i sit
looking at these empty words


  1. oh boy....

    'for i want what i don't want
    and in that contradiction lies a key
    to the door of something
    i can only guess'

    there is knowing that will find you, or you it, when the time is right. sometimes i think a decision is ahead and i struggle with it and it is really behind. what comes first, decide and then accept, or accept and then decide> i think it's the second, and knowing that helps me.

    this poem is raw honest. it is a gift to yourself and to your friends here who learn from you and root you on.

    together strong, jos.


  2. It's scary, isn't it? This leap into the unknown, into saying what has been unsaid. Because who knows what will happen and god forbid we should not now the future, not control it.

    I'm speaking for myself here Jos, not you. I have been delivered the man of my dreams, except, except one for salient point. What to do? Leap and hope or sit and what? Be alone but safe. I want to embrace life, to be wild with joy but I hold myself back from fear. Fear of looking foolish? Having my heart broken? Fear in general? I suppose. It's fear. Except I don't want fear to define my life anymore.

    Thanks for letting me vent here. And just so you know, I would have traded my veggies with you:)

  3. These are not empty words Citrus. They are a dream taken flight. The dream is pale and as yet unconstructed, but a dream nonetheless...a flutter between heartbeats that needs a branch on which to perch. Soon, your soul will rest. All this hard work of heart you are doing. It does not go wasted. HARD work of heart. You are DOING it Jos. One brick at a time still gets the job done. Don't sell yourself short. We are moving forward at our own pace. We are on our way! Love you, my orange crayon!