Tag Archives: silence

Pitch

At 6 there are cars on the roads and the sky is sometimes pink or Scarlett red

Peoples day have begun while others grab the last few days of winks in scratchers of various states of dishevel

At five the ladies stand at the bus stop and I wonder where they go when they disembark and the men in hi vis jackets stand waiting for the vans I don’t wonder so much for them. One building site is just like another.

But their numbers are sparse at 5. More scratchers are full of snores and fears of chores

The radio man whispers to me as I stroll playing songs I could never forget and half way along the tiredness falls away. My eyes open and I feel alive.

I do a bit of workday planning before I stop myself and focus on the walk. I sweep a tide of calm filled nothingness through my mind and the moon appears as the trees suddenly have leafs and the air surrounding me is felt on my skin

There is a new walkway around the town I take for the desire to prevent my heart from succumbing to the rigours of inactivity.

It’s a tunnel through trees and bushes with blackberries and fields of corn. There’s a secret passage way some teenagers have dug in to the wilderness and there’s a field of cattle. The peaceful scene of them lying in the moonlight green resonates in my mind

Through the pitch darkness I feel the morning efforts of determined spiders catch across my forehead and I imagine-their journeys along the same path I walk stretching a strand of web way beyond the 2 metres now associated in our minds with social distancing.

And it is pitch dark with the fear I should feel crawling along stretching out to touch my mind. Who is waiting in the shadows? Will someone knock me out with the one punch challenge? Will the spirits I sense in the tingle in my spine manifest themselves in a sudden light of revelation.

But I don’t feel the fear beyond the realisation that I should surely be a bit apprehensive of walking in pitch darkness in the middle of the night a little too far from civilisation .

Instead I relish those steps where I am completely alone. I can’t see the path with the darkness yet still the wonder of millennia of evolution allows my eyes to adapt just enough to make out the minuscule difference in shades of grey and black.

I would welcome the spirits I would welcome the one punch attack I would welcome the friendly hello In the darkness I would welcome the cry of an animal in need of help I welcome the darkness and it’s beautiful silence and it’s clear air and it’s purity.

Along here it doesn’t matter who I am or how I look. It doesn’t matter what people think it doesn’t matter if one eyes drifts it doesn’t matter if I’m obese it doesn’t matter if I think differently it doesn’t matter if I look like an escaped member of a difficult hospital for the demented it doesn’t matter if I earn a million a year or scrape by on free bread and berries

The darkness accepts me for being a part of the nature around me

I am part of the darkness of the ecosystem of the night as much as the spider and the sleeping fly

I turn the radio of and I listen and I hear the wonderful whispers of the nights silence as it reveals its innermost secret. That none of the human concerns matter here. All that matters is been a part of the morning moment

Frankie loving his 5 o’clock walk to work

Silence

I look inside myself

And see my heart is lost

I look inside her words

And know the light to shine

I listen to the sounds

Of history skip repeat

I feel the words of mine before

with laughter save her breath

I hear my silence now

Save the love her heart desires

I look inside my self

To feel the calm swim clear

Frankie with the thoughts inside which make a man different from the crowd who succumb to their own needs. I was raised to do what’s right but more importantly what i am is my actions or reactions to protect the essence of what I believe is right to protect the others . The action to save is of no use if the reactions then result in the end of one or the other or both. Silence is not loved in a world where the need to find closure through words is paramount when the true light is waiting to illuminate in the glorious beauty of the colourful spectrum of the silent world inside where happiness is found in the peace of imagination

Whispers of silence

Alone the streets whisper their silence

Strolling alien to the tune of the lark

The air still deep in my lungs

The smell different refreshing

The song of silence returns to my heart

Memories of childhood times when

The words i used reflected the swiftness

Of the thoughts inside and they laughed

And pointed and I cried inside

I could understand the logic of maths

I could look at the puzzle and see the end

But I could never comprehend how

Having the answer threatened them

And who they saw as themselves

Because they are better than me

The answers I have while right in me

Are wrong for them who know

So much more than I Will ever think

How the words in my mind

To be the pauper at the feet of the

Sophisticated means to know you kneel

Or else the embarrassment will surround

The essence of my soul

As rightfully I become

the target of their scorn

To be a know it all was a crime

They turned away driving me to

Stand alone so I stopped revealing

The connections the solutions

I took from them my words

And gave up the chat the talk the logic

And let it fester in me growing

Wanting to be released

And now I sit alone again

The silence of the world returns

And I return to those days

I had somehow forgotten

Realising knowing the answers

Doesn’t mean you have to divulge

It actually means you shouldn’t

Because probably you are wrong

Instead I remember the leason

I learnt before the holocaust of the van

Always remember to hold your tongue

To Hold them inside your mind

and allow the lonely peace return

The war inside will subside

And the awkward stumble will return

Where it belongs with the crimson

Sweep of the moments when they invade

My silence and make me talk so they can

Enjoy the laughter built on my reply

(Frank silence returned Mcgivney

L

A seat

The bench, old and worn, was cold to the touch through the wool of my trousers

Hi

I could see a line of grime etched into the lines beneath her face as she looked up from her can and threw the shortest of dirty looks expertly mingled with a sound mixture of disinterested distain

Sometimes no doesn’t have to be put Into words or perhaps a look is the strongest no

Still and all it’s not a bad day all things considered

The look again this time I noticed a bunch of her hair stuck together with blood or sweat or vomit or whatever sticks hair together when a member of the human fraternity doesn’t get to avail of the washing facilities of a day or even a month

You can go fuck of if you think you getting something out of me I’m no hooker

I’m no punter either

Good cos I’m particular about who I be having the fun with

Me too

Yeah right

Yeah right exactly

Don’t be getting fucking smart you fucker

I just saying I not into hookers

You should be

Ah here

Well the state of you with the head on you and that Gammy eye and you look like your mother picked out the clothes. Is that wool?

Feck sake you’re worst than a commentator on one of them shows

What shows

You know the xfactor bollixology

Here listen don’t be using that kind of language in front of a Lady

Fair enough

And a slow breeze trailed across our path while we both looked on at the city passing by. a quietness in the kaleidoscope of hustle

You know no one talks as they walk

I looked up and listened and watched

Your man over there is talking on his phone

I thought I told you not to be a wise fucker

You only mentioned being a smart one

Whatever. He is on a phone that don’t count

Why not

It just doesn’t

Why

Cos it’s like the mad cunts who talk to themselves it’s not real talking it’s just pretend chitter chatter

I see what you mean

About the phone

No about them not talking they just are all rushing

Yeah

Yeah

Have you a light

Have you a fag

Yeah

Right then

And I saw her eyes were brown when she held the flame

She would have been a beautiful daughter to some Da a long time ago

She held the smoke deep inside, feeling it’s warmth before slowly releasing it back into the world

I better make a move

She nodded and looked back down

I touched her shoulder gently when i stood, the briefest of contacts; she didn’t react, maybe she hadn’t noticed

I walked on with out a word been uttered to a soul, a member once more of the rushing throngs

(C) frankie mcgivney

Just a random story of top of my head I hope it reads okay. The words I love to write