"Paper Is Not Silent" (The Poem)

Paper is not silent
When shredded
When crumpled
Abused and killed
Screaming in protest
Sighing in last rite

Paper is not silent
Conducting sound
When silence abounds
Trapping one environmental noise
When placed near ear
Echoing the trapped sound

Paper is not silent
Pointed tips scratch
Protestations bleed
The face marred
The voice of a seeker
Screams opinions as thoughts
Heard but unheard

Paper is not silent

By Frances Ohanenye
Poet, writer, educator, mother

Welcome to the Maiden Entry

What happens to a dream suspended, postponed, left hanging for years? Does it shrivel and die? Not exactly. It makes life unbearable until it is given an outlet, a voice, a channel so that it can become fulfilled. It does not die outright.

This is the why of this blogging, an outlet for a voice that would not die. My dream has loved paper for so long because paper gave it voice. The dream has not been silent despite decades of attempts to shush it as life happens and family emerges, is nurtured, and is grown. It does not die. Rather, it bids its own sweet time like the seed in the fertile soil that is watered sufficiently to reclaim sunlight, sunshine, and air. It buds!  It blooms and blossoms.

Welcome to the first post, the maiden voyage of a fashionista's poetic escapades.  Many postings will follow, hopefully, with profound thoughts that will inspire and cause a pivotal change in perspective or a little change, barely perceptible.  It does not matter really.  The real unabashed goal is for me to have an abunance of glorious fun doing what I love the most--writing poetry.