THE SILENT PEOPLE

Some people are so rude,
Living their lives with no concern for others,
Or possibly just intent on pissing other people off-
Annoying everyone around them.

The silent people-
Want to kill them-
And drive forks into their skulls-
Create weapons of extreme torture-
And scream from the top of their lungs-
“SHUT UP.”

But words are not spoken-
And attention is not given.
Though annoyance is apparent,
The annoying keep on living.

And now dear little children, who may this story read,
To idle, silly flattering words, I pray you ne’er give heed:
Unto an evil counsellor, close heart and ear and eye,
And take a lesson from this tale, of the Spider and the Fly.

The color-patches of vision part, shift, and reform as I move through space in time. The present is the object of vision, and what I see before me at any given second is a full field of color patches scattered just so. The configuration will never be repeated. Living is moving; time is a live creek bearing changing lights. As I move, or as the world moves around me, the fullness of what I see shatters. “Last forever!

For what was it about books that once finished left the reader in a bit of a haze and made them reread the last few sentences in order to continue the ringing in their hearts a while longer, so as not to let the silence illumine the fact that reading, they had gained something – distance, a lesson, a companion, a new world – but now, after the last full stop, they had lost something palpable and felt a little emptier than before.

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