The Whisper ( A Poem)


Queens Park August 24 699Another world....

At one time all I wrote was verse.  And I did it very badly.  Convinced that everything needed to rhyme I took my limited vocabulary and tried my damnedest to convey my feelings in this odd little box of adjectives, nouns and verbs.  I can’t remember where I heard this or perhaps I read it somewhere.  It was one of those obscure little tidbits that became a rather foolish thorn in my side. 

“Nothing rhymes with orange.”

How many nights did I lay in bed trying to find a word that would compliment it.  Talk about a fast track to a padded cell somewhere.  I don’t know why, for a time, I was like this.  The oddest things would catch and hold. 

In fact, I stopped eating oranges for a time because of that odd little niggling I would get.

Thankfully I finally let it go. Stopped obsessing over trivial matters that had no bearing on anything really. 

If you’re wondering where all of this is leading to it is this.  I am going to attempt to write at least one good poem per month.  Perhaps its time I added a challenge to the mix.  I’ve posted a few poems on here.  I think the last one was ‘I Wonder’. 

The challenge with this form of prose is really capturing a mood, a moment, a feeling and in brief summation getting right down to the heart of the matter.  Like any other form of writing, there are certain things that appeal to me and others that repel. 

Every art form is like that though.  In any case, I am babbling here.  Time to get on with it.  I present…

The Whisper

In night visions it came,

This frightening specter,

So succinct and subtle, deliberate in its intent.

No pain, none at all,

Just a whisper,

“Something’s not right.”

And how do you diagnose a feeling?

How do you get an odd foreboding checked out?

It was in my dreams though,

A darkness had settled…a weight,

With velvet grace it embraced me,

And a storm began to brew within,

Throughout my womb the darkness spread,

Tentacles leaching into the reservoir of my life source,

Tugging, pulling…gently at first,

Then more demanding…sinister,

The whisper became a shout,

“Something is wrong!”

Encapsulated in the comfort of quick sand,

The weight now leaden,

In my head, in my heart, in my womb,

The whisper was now a scream,

“Something is very wrong!”

A rising tide of fear,

A rising tide of panic,

“Don’t go there!”

And the heaviness…now it’s becoming unbearable,

I’m being strangled,

A war is being waged in my physical body,

In my emotion core,

In my sexual divinity,

In my spiritual realm,

“Show yourself, coward!” I screamed into the night,

The face revealed, uglier than any seen before,

And this parasitic bastard had set up shop,

The intent was clear…I knew what was on the line,

It was my life,

This cancer had invaded me,

Whispered its way into my being,

I don’t know how,

Nor why.

A beautiful life was unfolding before me,

All the haunts and pains from the past were being laid to rest,

With gentle ministrations I’d calmed the hysteria of years past,

Soothed the spirit, the mind, the heart…

Wanted only to know love, to be loved,

But into battle I did go.

The cost I would not negotiate,

A pound of flesh now forfeit,

Close to a year of battle has left it’s scars,

I drank their poison believing the necessity of this madness,

Are you gone?

Have I rid myself of you?

There is an anger, a residue effect,

I’ve been robbed, maligned, beaten,

But never defeated,

And in the dark of night the whisper comes,

“Is everything okay?”

 

 

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