Enough Words

We have had enough words here

Let’s put our cards on the table

Enough of all these things we speak

Let’s see if we truly are able

All these words – so many things said

But what if we got up and did

Instead of just speaking hollow things

And with our hands and feet proved it?

Stop telling me who you are

Walk ahead and show me instead

Enough theories – let’s put them to the test

Who knows how far off we are from death

Enough with words. Let our actions speak

Of so many words, my ears have grown weary

I need something more on which to live

Sustain me with action lest I pass on early


Shaky Hands

Sitting in a high chair,

Eyes closed –

Lean back, breathe in

As the towel around my shoulder folds.

My hairdresser looks in the mirror

Glassy blue eyes

With shaky hands –

They swear he is high.

Most people they fear him

His shaking hands

They break their nerves.

He’s an unstable man.

Like them quivering hands

They can’t trust

The shaking

Of scissors that rust.

Fearful if he slips

If those shaking hands fail

The consequence

That will be unveiled.

I lean back, snip, snip

I have faith

In those shaky hands

A confidence you can’t take.

Those glassy blue eyes

Never waver

His shaky hands

Never falter.

Story behind the poem:

Written in memory of someone who use to be my hairdresser. He had hands that shook something terrible.