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
15 comments:
Sobering thoughts about the jester who gives us all such cause for concern!
a mask made of two hands.. that's wonderfully written...
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.
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...
Your words and images speak to me too. How well we wear our masks...
Anna :o]
I love the tenderness with which this poem is penned.. beautiful..
"Tears like rain cut deep canyons into my heart".......mine too, kiddo. This line really grabbed me. The leader's face that is a mask.....how that resonates. I look at it and cannot see a soul in there.
Leader no, ambitious dictator yes. However you are right we all wear masks when revealing ourselves hurts so much.
You words have too much truth in them. Bleak times.
"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 :)
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
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!
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!
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!
Hank
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