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ALICE THORPE |
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Muzzle
Don't speak, don't ever speak
of the things you feel, or think you see
Whatever would people think, what
ever would people say
What would it look like?
Only my own perception
lies
passionless people in a web of
lies
Downfallen, crestfallen, silent
lies.
This is a world where you are
legally innocent
until the lies prove gilt,
where innocence lies quietly
and I can't think why. After
all
no one would actually
do anything, would they? no
one expects to behave differently
because they've heard that
maybe..
unless, of course
they know it's lies, and the
innocent won't answer back
sometimes without trial, recourse
to justice
one word will lose,
lifetime of work, savings,
children and
knowledge that one was worth
something
Saw what one saw, felt what
one felt.
but
only when they really know
it's safe-
(oh, to have somewhere to speak,
where it won't get back
to hurt them, oh)
Who is defenseless here? Must
those
already weakened still shore
up
the dam, the reputation of
the one who weakened them?
Let me tell you,
The first thing is to acknowlege
that you're
powerless
first thing to make you sick,
first thing to make you well,
But don't,
Don't speak, don't ever speak
of the things you feel, or think you see
Whatever would people think,
what ever would people say
What would it look like?
Only my own perception
lies
passionless people in a web of
lies
Downfallen, crestfallen, silent
lies.
Ah, but I ask myself sometimes,
What really is? A mother
loves her child, therefore,this
voice is
love, these bruised ribs
love, and shattered speech,
outcome of
love,
Did I cause this? Do some wickedness
that brings me punishment,
or guilt or -
it may have been a door
a fall, that's it, look what
I've done
to the floor, falling on it, making it
bleed that way.
Did you know my dad's a drunk? Well it
won't hurt him to say,
he's miles away and in another
country now -
Two in the morning and
I
wouldn't let him in, watched
his grey head
weave disconsolate the starlit
drive,
felt
heartbreak and
guilt because
after all, he's elderly, it
wouldn't, would it,
have hurt me, would he? why
was I frightened
truly
of this poor old man?
his reputation's safe, but not
my mind. How could I even think
such things?
Don't speak, don't ever speak
of the things you feel, or think you see
Whatever would people think, what ever would
people say
What would it look like?
Only my own perception
lies
passionless people in a web of
lies
Downfallen, crestfallen, silent
lies.
Everyone else was so sure
of themselves, but I
doubted, and in the end,
for me, there was
no benefit of doubt
They knew they were not wrong
so I must be,
guilty
as charged
one word
here, hints immaturity
another
weakness, and another
hysteria
but it would be cruel,
wouldn't it, to say
They hurt me?
They might
lose everything,
as I did,
People
might know,
might guess,
I might
begin to tell myself
some truth.
I might stand up, at last,
now that they're far away
and can't be hurt by me,
or mind blind, hidden failing..
say
I'm Alice
child of an alcoholic
alcohol
affected
but I wouldn't say
I married one,
that's not my business
my diagnosis fee
and I am
powerless
powerless before
the one who battered me
powerless before
my own dependency,
helpless to tell the truth
disturb the passionless
cocoon
and who am I? whose guilt, whose silence lost my son,
career, friends, shapes, chances, talents, opportunities,
laughter, home, health. I asked for it
by silence
it was I who lied
said "He can't come to work
because he's ill"
I who ran
right across town to fetch
an "ailing" father
three days drunk and folding
on the sofa of a friend
and yet,
it's not my place to name him
what himself he does deny
when my jaw ached and teeth
dropped out I know
of course I know
it was my fault, there was
no
punch delivered me
by that dear wonderful, such
a devout woman, such
a delight at parties
thats
a good thing, isn't it?
no one ever knew..
good for a sixteen year old
not me,
still to visit grandad
just in case
grandma would know
grandad had been loving
children
all these years,
and Dad's wife tells me that
he doesn't drink, the nurse
declares
my mother's love
and the odd acquaintance asks
what happened to you?
where did all your talent go?
Don't speak, don't ever speak
of the things you feel, or think you see
Whatever would people think, what ever
would people say
What would it look like?
Only my own perception
lies
passionless people in a web of
lies
Downfallen, crestfallen, silent
lies.
The woman who drove me to alanon speaks
comforting. No one
would ever know
a drunk lived here.
I know
that's so. Deep in the night
I work to hide the things
he does and doesn't do
(oh, to have somewhere to speak,
where it won't get back
to hurt them, oh)
It didn't stop the lies
with no recourse to justice,
I deserved
all that, and more,
it's I who's tired, not
coping, he's
alright, and I who weep,
I must be mad I said, who stare
at an x-ray
that records a blow
that never was,
remember words that shrivelled
flesh,
deny they ever said..
after all, what kind of person
would allow
such treatment of themselves,
remember
It was I who burned my poems,
turned my head and knew
that no one else would ever
know,
no one who cared
to hear, to hold, to touch
or kiss these tears away.
Crying about nothing
passionless
power
less
(oh, to have somewhere to speak,
where it won't get back
to hurt them, oh)
so
If my health and sanity's
delayed a bit,
wouldn't it kill them
if everyone knew?
don't mention it
until they're dead
and then
don't mention it
don't speak
ill
of the dead. They can't defend
themselves
they're really
vulnerable, and wouldn't it
be wrong
to say?
No. Better this,
this
never happened,
and their reputation's safe
and mine
is dead.
Alice Thorpe
17 September, 1997