The Loudest Thing Not Said
 |
| Artist Unknown, probably AI |
The Loudest Thing Not Said
Silence sits heavier than leather. It clings like smoke. It smells faintly of oil and old thunder. I wear it the same as my cut, stitched tight across ribs, no room to breathe too deep, too honest.
The boys think quiet is control. A closed mouth, a loaded room. They mistake absence for authority. I know better. Silence is a bar tab unpaid, interest compounding in the gut.
Inside, I draft sonnets in the language of engines. Pistons rhyme with regret. Chrome flashes like a cheap metaphor I cannot spend. Every unspoken line paces the cage of my teeth, looking for a weak lock.
I nod. They nod back. Kings of nothing said.
If I opened my mouth, it would not be poetry. It would be weather.
—--
Silence, heavy hide.
Engines rhyme with locked-up breath,
Storm behind my teeth.
-----
This Haibun (Prose/Haiku combo) shared with those quiet types in the corner, over at the DVerse Poets Pub.
I would love to know what you thought about this piece.
Please consider leaving a comment.
Your haibun not only appeals to the senses, Chris, but it is also dark and menacing. This metaphor is very effective: ‘Silence is a bar tab unpaid, interest compounding in the gut’. I love the idea of drafting ‘sonnets in the language of engines.
ReplyDeleteThis is such an interesting haibun, the metaphors are on point, your end haiku resonating
ReplyDeleteMuch love