5 Years of Solitude

5 YEARS OF SOLITUDE (edited versions)

Part 1 (Of, hopefully, many more to come)

Let me tell y’all how it started. I mean the thing about those 5 years.

Earlier this morning (or whatever time it was), I found myself pondering about one of my daily posts, on FB, regarding the unfortunate but, unavoidable, side-effects of speaking one’s mind (i.e., the truth) which, of course, is one of those activities everybody on the planet has to do for themselves, and then see what happens. Shucks!

(I’m beginning to grin…)

Those activities, rather too often, turn out to be the ones least liked and, also, least appreciated.

(“Why, why, why…?” Like in that song on the Graceland album, by Paul Simon AND all the wonderful South African Musicians.)

Right, back to the subject at hand. I was talking about 5 solitary years (more or less so, thankfully not entirely), and how difficult it has been, during certain, extreme, periods, which kept rolling in and out, slowly, like long ‘n lazy morning waves, to keep it together.

What connects this to being truthful? Well, it has to do with where I live now. And, as a “stranger,” how the northern New Mexico “way of life” just makes me want to scream, at times. (I admit, I was warned, lol.)

FYI: I have lived in Northern New Mexico almost 26 years. But this far North, only since 5 years.

Entonces. This move North, among other things, has changed me. I don't go outside much anymore, and spend most of each day with my ruminations, about the creatures that surround me (my favorites), and the people (… somewhat less fav.) in this small, quite rural, town of Questa, NM, along Highway 522. Where we arrived one day, in May, 5 years ago, in dire need of reasonably priced accommodation, and free 'n natural space, for Billie ‘n me...

(Billie’s my ‘Comadrita Canina Cubana,’ from Matanzas, Cuba, the island, NOT the one in New Mexico! )

(from C.W. April 27, 2023)

how cheap is talk? 2023, originally written in 2013

 how cheap is talk?

they say that talk
is naught but cheap.
if true, could everyone afford
as much of it as they desired?
and chatter on devoid of care,
with neither rhyme nor reason?

or else, if our words
don’t mean a thing,
unless we put them into action.
thus, separating cheap from dear,
and talk from righteous deeds.
how can we ever freely speak
of our dreams, hopes and ideas?

would not the fear of failing
to fulfill anything spoken,
prevent most dialogue
from ever taking place
and what of those,
who’d be condemned by
past mistakes and human flaws,
to never-ending silence?
where would they stand?

in ancient times, before
we spoke in tongues galore,
what drove us to invent speech?
some men, one day, began to realize,
after returning from a myriad
of fatal bloody battles,
that there was hope, indeed,
of finding other means,
to settle feuds, and live!

since talking is what man now does 
in search of mutual understanding 

keeping in mind that words,

 as substitutes for deadly blows,

surely are "heaven-sent."

then how can talk,

with all its flaws,

be cheap, devoid of value?

                                

                     Corinne Wesley © 2013.                            

NOISE

Image by Misha Gordin "Prophecy" 1979

Noise

 

people play


musical chairs


to the sound


of the wind


they all chant


@ each other


simultaneously


please be


mindful of


the energy


that you


bring


into


"My Space"

PS:


food 4 thought


4 dinner


4 two


4 me'n u...


:| ...

The Tale

oh stranger

would you like to know

a little more about me

it’s alright

i don’t mind at all

as long as you

won’t try to change

the fact that who

you heard it from

was me

come closer now

there’s room for you

next to the fire by my side

i know so well the tiredness

that overcomes a rider 

after each long ride

this plate of food 

this glass of wine

they’re yours alone

to fill and empty

as you please

and while you eat

and drain your glass 

the moment's come

thus starts my tale

as gently as a morning breeze...  

(not done yet...)

Beyond the Bend at Year's End 2022

 

Beyond the Bend at Year's End

(a hopeful poem. hard to write.)

the future's not 4 us 2 know

the past refuses to let go

and in between there's us

way up that river

without a paddle 

more oft' than not

the thing that's our saving grace

right after turning 'round 

each new and unimaginable bend

are these big, wonderful smiles 

on all your beautiful, sweet faces

that makes it all alright...

:)

Corinne Wesley © 2022

LIVING ROCK STORY

SWITCH TO...

A certain porous and, volcanic rock,

has come to mind.

Saw it long ago, in Goa.

Each of the porous holes,

becomes a home.

For one more,

different yet, alike and,

wondrous, little plant.

When the mighty rains arrive.

Living among the "Living Rocks,"

where one is unconditionally welcome.

That's where I've always been headed.

It's a hard road to travel...

Copyright, Corinne Wesley

February 9, 2021

(It's been an unusual day...)

Middlemen

 MIDDLEMEN

These most annoying Middlemen

There really is no need for them

...

(to be continued... maybe not. lmao!)