To the unheard voices,
To the feeble voices ,
(Only whispers at midnight.)
To the strong minds,
limbs, lungs and hearts,
Whose voices are unheard,
Feeble,
For they have to listen
And be strong.
For they have to talk wisely
And be strong.
To the fireworks minds,
To the injured minds
who only know how to dance
And walk.
To the mad ones,
Jack Kerouac’s pals.
To those who are yet to find a new home,
To those who are ready to find a new home,
To those who are not ready to talk.
To those whose tongue
can not keep up with the thinking flow.
And to the silence.
Always the silence.
Mother silence,
Sister silence,
Brother silence.
To the silent ones.
To those who
Do not kiss their silence goodbye,
When somebody tells them:
“Talk now,
Talk slowly,
Talk wisely!”

But if words are scraping the silence off your throat, spit the silence out in the form of ink.

Speak fast or do not speak at all.
Last year I was reading a poem titled “Fast Speaking Woman” written by Anne Waldman.

I am a fast speaking woman, I have always been
one.
Teachers, parents, friends: “Could you speak more slowly?”, “You need to learn how to articulate words clearly”, “Speak slowly! Speak clearly!”.
Speak slowly. Speak clearly.

My tongue can not keep up with the thinking flow. And that’s fine with me.
My only New Year’s resolution is to start speaking even faster.

My only New Year’s resolution is to keep

swallowing commas and words like tears of joy.

 

I speak fast or I do not speak at all.