Mind: Quit speaking to me!
You are rattling on the way you always prattle
and have done so since I was a child
and in old age still talk incessantly.
You have thought good things and given me good ideas.
You have even helped me write some poems and songs,
suggested I say kind things, but also mean words.
I have meditated to rid myself of your chatter, but you are good
at intruding whenever you want, breaking in like a noisy child.
The world keeps happening, leaping or slugging forward,
throwing new sticks on the fire of my brain
that spark it into a blazing bonfire.
Even when I sleep you are loud and raucous.
Dreams have dialogue and you have no trouble
speaking up and sometimes dream words are worse.
In them, you have no filters, say what the hell you want
which you can’t say when we are awake.
Stuff my dreams with people I forgot
or don’t like or love from all times and ages,
even people and things that never existed,
then wake me up and laugh at me as I slowly rise to reality,
unless you just disappear and leave me with wadded bedcovers.
I have not been able to stop you all of my days.
I’m not going to speculate about what you will do
if there is an afterlife. The idea of sharing, speculating,
pontificating, philosophizing for all eternity is more
like a hellish punishment than a heavenly reward.
Maybe then, instead, you will have an angelic
way of finally, truly being quiet, granting peace.
Originally Published In Fleas On The Dog