Them voices (in my very own head)

“Those voices, in my head, are plotting, once again, and I’m about to find out what it is, soon enough” Gun Roswell

Them voices (in my very own head)

All the loud sounds and constant chatter, in my poor mind, do clatter
The small world inside of my head, a unique ecosystem, and instead
Of letting me sit her in quiet esteem, seem to be letting, it all free
And having a ball, on this day I was supposed to have a very short
Break of it all, alas, they, living inside, do, beg to differ in the decision I made
And now they are all singing and shouting and all the bad jokes sprouting
A full on cacophony, I say out loud, to those, close by, who cannot be swayed
Of the inner voices, inside of my very own scrambled brain, and, it’s always, the same
An outside argument and an internal turmoil, leaving me, to completely and utterly boil
Why oh why, did I think, today of all days, would be any different, so to my friends
Up there having, such a ball: shut up, so I can have an entitled and a very small
Pause, a breather, a nap even, anything at all to stall, but not an argument with either
Those out here and you all, inside there, as I just want some time of total QUIET!
For a little while at least, while I am lying here, trying, to relax, in my own, stratosphere

But the it all goes so quiet, even those outside are looking at me without smiling
And I know something is going on, for this is never good, the silence after all
Because then, I don’t really hear, what they ALL, are most certainly against me plotting
And I know one thing, it’s never, ever good, to be, in total silence, and thinking
So, please, I beg of you all, make some noice, anything at all, for I, am getting bored

August Days in Espoo for Daily Photo (Nine)

Posted in Daily Photo
Photography /Poetry /Humour

August Days in Espoo for Daily Photo

“August, the summer’s last messenger of misery, is a hollow actor” Henry Rollins

Voice

“Can you hear my voice?”
It asked

“Listen to my voice”
It continued

“Walk towards my voice”
It beckoned

Finally, standing there in front of the wall, with a can of spray in my hand, I had made my statement

“I hear a voice”

voice