I will Listen

“If they don’t hear you, say it again.

If they don’t hear you, again, a third time.”

They didn’t hear me.

What language do you they speak?

It must linger in the nether zones;

Where stars hover adjacent to the sun,

Or heaven even, kitty corner within sight.

I feel hot breath from my mouth,

I hear a deep resonance from my chest,

My low voice is perhaps like the pluck of base,

And they only hear banjo picking voices?

It’s getting serious, I’m concerned.

“I said I’m bleeding heavily”

“drink more water” they told me.

That feels wrong?

I’m not a worrier, my mother is.

In contrast I never worry,

If they don’t hear you

You need to hear you,

You may need to be transfused

By days end.

You cannot make them hear you,

But you aren’t alone when you hear you,

I do trust this language that only I speak

I hear me,

I will listen.

 

Why Me?

Why me?
Because, you’ll play this hand.
Why me?
You won’t break;
Plus humans can’t disband.
Why me?
You’ll milk it-like a Guernsey with utters of sizeable girth.
Why me?
You’ll take cheap,
and produce a luxurious rebirth.
Why me?
Because you HEAR the pain
When it simply hangs in the air,
Why me?
You’ll better the world
…and teach comfort

To rule despair