Talking - A Poem

Talking to people is strange,
I say what I think.
The words pass in straight lines
From mouth to ear.
And yet are distorted,
Like a childrens whispering game.


Is the air a catalyst,
An agent for change,
That you don't understand what I'm saying?


We descend to trivialities
To cover our confusion,
Our inability to comprehend,
The vast depths of emotions felt.


The need to communicate is strong
And yet......
We avoid understanding,
Afraid of what we might reveal,
Afraid of the pain
Of sharing emotions.


And so we pass the time of day
In mundane conversation.
Because anything else
Is too fraught with dangers,
Too likely to end in disaster.


Preserve the veneer
At all costs.
Don't really listen.
Because we don't want to hear
What is really being said.



Val Carlill - written in the 1970s