I am cleaning the entire house, from top to bottom. I am ruthlessly purging every malfunctioning gadget and outdated scrap of paper. I am leaving no stone unturned.
Boy does it feel good. I refuse to hold onto anything that does not add to my life. If it’s going to take up space in my home, it had better earn its keep.
During the course of this purge I found a ridiculously crumpled piece of notebook paper with a poem written on it. Based on where I found it, I’m guessing I wrote it somewhere around 2003. I don’t think I can bring myself to keep the original anymore, but I’d like to preserve the poem itself. So here it is!
A Worthy Yet Once Removed Subject
When did I see the beauty of today,
or have I seen it yet? Am I still blind
and trapped inside the things I’ll never say
because the language chains them in my mind?
I lay within a cage within a cage
(whose bars are made of feelings unexplained),
mocked by the words I write upon this page,
for they do not express the whys of pain.
Shall I believe the words do not exist?
If so, then in this world man is word,
and men struck mute will not be sorely missed.
But silence by its action still is heard…
© Jane Bartley Hozier