waiting in the womb,
first gasping breath
demonstrates the power
of capturing immediate responses;
The very first fix
gets our lungs purged,
we get a bathing, then
of a breast full of milk.
As with everything in life,
a certain way that works,
does so for a short season —
Our strategies sophisticate;
Baby once again takes the floor
uttering first angelic syllable;
Repetitions of “da, da, dad..,
or ma, ma mm, with cute gestures
drawing celebrated smiles
coupled with chattering
adults answering back
“woo woo’s, lookitdababyyy”–
Baby feels that surge
of power once again.
This continues with the tugging
of clothes, raspberries,
being a good or bad girl or boy,
and the list goes on.
All in the name
of being a center for attention.
We learn to be masters
taking our skills with us
into a world of sage communicators;
We lay camouflaged and stealthy
ready to demonstrate our wits.
Leveraging the wit is found
to be most effective
while speaker speaks
and we yield to the listening
yet, talk thinking is
peripheral behind the white dazzle,
and sub-rosa flirt of cinched lips —
This poise is inadvertently perfected
through years of towel drying
and primping before a mirror.
The yielded silence is a barter,
cloaked behind smiles
and utterings of “uh huh”, or “ya don’t say”
Disciplines of listening gives way
to weakly muttered syllables;
(as if fore-shocks were acceptable
and eruptions could be contained.)
Undefined grunts and blurbs
sporadic and breathy fill fractional
spaces between speaker’s words.
frozen thoughts begin thawing
under warm deceptive expressions
of interest while words silently
assemble, bulging into sentences;
The words line up like race cars
waiting for the vocal pause
of a checkered flag.
Nods pose for interest
as glyphs, with or without serifs,
fill and clog the ears prior to
spilling out; slinking and sliding
into the crease of smile’s edge.
This is where the chewing starts;
rabbity, and clandestine,
as if particles of food
between listeners teeth
Subtle jawing motions are peripheral
while one repeats
silently beneath breaths,
the head nodding continuous;
Is the meter
of a ticking countdown.
where words convert
to first audible burst
is like a swift changing
of lanes in the thick stress
of rush hour traffic-–
new voice wedges hard
and is heard
taking the old speakers floor;
(The power once again surges!)
while old speaker’s voice sputters,
fades, halting in a syrup of discontent.
The stealing of the floor is complete.
The involuntary listener soon
on new strategy
demonstrating the insanity
for an art of interruption.
This post is linked with Seedlings In Stone Blog spot.