Friday, July 29, 2011

Behind the Building

We hid. Talked. Laughed. Smoked cigarettes.
Drank rum and coke. Made promises.
Kept each other warm. Lied. Tried. Cried.
Said good-bye. Came back a thousand times.
Then one day the building was gone.
And everyone in town could see us there.
It was cruel. That’s what it was. Some froze.
Others ran. A few held up our hands.
Now we’re gone too. Scattered to corners.
Crevices. Behind the baseboards. Under the sink.
Bars. Offices. Stores. Mental wards. Cemeteries.
Wherever people go when light shines hard upon them.
To hide while their shells harden. Or to sing.

[From Songs and Letters, first published September 11, 2007.]


Transcend Designs said...

wow man,

I prefer to sing...or at least try....

Have a great weekend William

: )

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Brad, you too. Just being here gives us plenty so sing about.

manik sharma said...

I've been away for a while and i come back to this wonderful piece..The baring light..You sing the song of the unspoken..There has been more water dripping from eyes than from the edge of the sink..we often leave unnoticed like the unlit night..

William Michaelian said...

Quite true. On the other hand, listen to the music made by a night full of crickets, and we don’t see them at all.

Thank you, Manik.

Two Tigers said...

I'm still too stunned by the simple summary force of the three words - Lied. Tried. Cried. - to say more.

donnafleischer said...

a grub
writhing with
the light

I love your poem, William. . Will share at the word pond. Thank you

William Michaelian said...

Gabriella, as it is, you’ve said quite enough to keep me smiling all day. Thank you.

And my thanks to you, Donna. I feel at home there. The poem will too.

Jan said...

You have written this with so much feeling, William. I believe that if I could change the memories to fit my own, your words could have been written for me...

Wine and Words said...

And again, the song shows itself as the symphony of light and sound together.

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Jan. And so a poem grows. What you bring is as necessary as the words themselves.

I like that, Annie. It says much for you as a singer.

miriamswell said...

Truly compelling.

William Michaelian said...

Thanks very much, Miriam.

erin said...

oh my! why do we leave youth, the passion of youth? why do we scatter about? why do we not recognize that when the building is torn down and we are exposed, this is exactly our time to sing!

i see this poem, william. i see it here in my reading of it. i see it every day.

thank god for the songs, but thank god first for the singers.


William Michaelian said...

Of which, Erin, most assuredly, you are one.