Tuesday, November 28

"You're quiet, is anything wrong?"

That question is one of my bugbears.

It just annoys me that the immediate assumption made when someone doesn't talk to you is that they're in a mood, or something is wrong.

I have little to no interest in what you're talking about

How about any of these for an explaination:

  • My internal dialouge is wittier and more charming than you.
  • You're mumbling and I can't be bothered saying 'excuse me?' again.
  • You talk so fast its near impossible to get a word in edge-ways.
  • You've not once asked me a question or tried to include me in the conversation, and this hasn't bothered me because...
  • I have little to no interest in what you're talking about, I'm not going to pretend otherwise.
Anyway... here is a poem, sort of on topic (not that I've established a topic, just had a moan really).

Open Book

Imagine if you will
If it doesn’t scare you to
Imagine how you'd feel
If your voice abandoned you

Imagine for a moment
Take the time to think
If you no longer made a sound
You could only lip sink

Imagine the everyday trials
Mundane becomes so hard
Imagine what things you may need
Those dreams you’ll have to disregard

Some people only communicate with words
Your gestures, your tones go without note
Each word is processed and farmed
Each sentence understood as if wrote

Imagine you met someone like this
Your voice still unreturned
She asks you for a frank answer
You shrug and nod in return

Imagine how vexing for her
When she finds everyday
She would ask something of you
You would respond in a similar way

Imagine this peculiar pairing
One person reliant on their hearing
The other communicates
With the expression he’s wearing

So many things go unsaid
Oft reliant on other types of talk instead
A curl of a lip a tip of the head
The things kept secret and put to bed

Every glance, every smile
Every pause and intonation
Every intake of breath
Has a simple inclination

Every time I speak to you
I speak with more than just words
I speak with actions unnoticed
Like words unheard

And anytime I speak with you
You should take note how I act
‘Cos not every word I utter will
Reveal what is fact

And if the truth is hard to find
Maybe you need to learn how to look
Cos’ although my words aren’t clear as ink
I’m still an open book







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