VOICES

VOICES  

I scrutinize the voice machine intrigued

Each letter laboriously extracted from your raison d’être

And laid on the blank page of my intellect

With artful meticulousness

 

How trifling the credence I have given

To the vast gift of voice

Not appreciated its value in life

 

I marvel at your courage.

No speech

Yet your expression on the sheet speak volumes

In any man’s tongue

 

You pen the prose

Thank you for freeing my creativity

NO! I accentuate the words

I thank you

 

You have forced me to grapple with my scores of voices

And thrust upon me the realisation

How unacquainted

I am of the impact of their revealing

 

Voices fired up in anger

Spewing out flesh tearing syllables that can never be retracted

Voices that tell of tranquil at-one-with-the-universe pleasures

Voices depleted and wounded illuminating the heartsickness

Betrayal of an unrequited love

Voices overshadowed with discreditable deliberation

Endeavours daylight cannot fathom

Voices wearing pity like an old friend’s soothing

 

How trifling the credence I have given

To the great gift of voice

Not appreciated its value in life.

 

Your acceptance of your speechless state

Galvanises

A craving in me

To look at how voice contorts life’s beings

 

Personal voices, friend, family or foe

Public voices life’s grade identify

How little I have appreciates

This hierarchical way of life

 

How trifling the credence I have given

To the great gift of voice

Not appreciated its value in life.

Not understanding its affect on your voiceless reality

 

A saying

Always

Follow your inner timbre.

Let the world know what it is you stand for

 

No longer is my internal voice hibernating

The voice of my core has been

Awakened from its blind slumber

By the writing of your proclaimer machine

 

Your silence

Articulates

the question

What is the gift of a voice?

 

The voice machines rattles

With the intensity of your alliteration

Freedom!  Friends!

Free, to speak frankly for oneself