Wednesday, July 19, 2017

A Mask of Words/ Poets United -- Midweek Motif/ Masks

A MASK OF WORDS           

the morning quiet                     not a sound                  except the whir of the fan

the pale blue sky                      empty                           i wear the death mask

made for me                            in the mirror                i see the young girl i was

no longer young           i hardly know myself                what was dark is now white

i count my deaths on my fingers           even if expected           a shock

each one a ripping away           like the ocean               that steals a bit of sand with each wave

tears like rain               cut deep canyons into my heart there is only silence after…

yet i wait              feeling beneath each rock         for your hand                                      

i cover my face            a mask made of two hands       i peep through my fingers

hide and seek               was a game we used to play      in the last light of day              

behind the mask           i hide my identity                     no one speaks to me

i walk through the crowd         all wear masks              our leader

ugly man                                  ugly face                      is it a mask

or his own face            he creates a mask                     with his words

nothing true                 masks are meant to obscure                  like words without meaning

he is the jester              without a punch line                nothing funny here

July 18, 2017  




  1. Sobering thoughts about the jester who gives us all such cause for concern!

  2. a mask made of two hands.. that's wonderfully written...

  3. Oh! how this begins at the innermost secret, and spirals outward. Thus are we drawn out of ourselves toward the world when the brighter light and deeper shadows are further inside. Those deaths and the oceans, ripping away bit by bit, wow! Your images speak to me.

  4. I like the stealth in observing the mask and particularly this image
    "like the ocean that steals a bit of sand with each wave"

    Much love...

  5. Your words and images speak to me too. How well we wear our masks...
    Anna :o]

  6. I love the tenderness with which this poem is penned.. beautiful..

  7. "Tears like rain cut deep canyons into my heart".......mine too, kiddo. This line really grabbed me. The leader's face that is a that resonates. I look at it and cannot see a soul in there.

  8. Leader no, ambitious dictator yes. However you are right we all wear masks when revealing ourselves hurts so much.

  9. You words have too much truth in them. Bleak times.

  10. "Tears like rain cut deep canyons into my heart" speaks to my whole being. And as for the leader, I feel one needs much intelligence to use a mask :)

  11. Such strong images of a well written sad poem of the mask of age and the
    the masks we all wear including the ugly mask of this infamous leader

  12. OMG, Annell. This is definitely a favorite poem of yours. I like the progression: Indeed I wonder sometime whether we wear masks now or whether we wore masks when we were young or whether we have just changed masks as time has moved on. And yes, perhaps all wear masks. You end on a strong note with the stanza about the 'ugly man.' His words definitely are masks meant to obscure rather than to inform or enlighten. Yes, a jester without a punchline - nope nothing funny. You surely were inspired!

  13. We all have a side of us that is masked, different from how we appear to the world. I enjoyed reading this piece, it is like food to the soul. Well done, and take good care!

  14. behind the mask i hide my identity
    no one speaks to me
    i walk through the crowd
    all wear masks

    One often needs to face up to such situations. There are people around but they are not what one expects to interact with easily!


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