September 5, 2010

Poetry: After the Party by William C. Burns, Jr

After the Party
William C. Burns, Jr

she stands in a silent room
stands silent in a silent place
she stands alone

only seconds ago
she was awash in the noise and sound of him
awash in the everyday ocean of him
adrift in the tsunami of the way he makes her feel

i stand beside her
just another piece of an unbroken silence

she says
"He could never be mine . . .
I mean he is . . . he is not available.
Why do his eyes speak to me?"

she casts about the room
like a guest at a wedding after the feast
like she is looking for a napkin

she says
"He doesn't love me
I mean . . . how could he?
What's there to love in me?"

i turn to look out into the coming sunset
and though i am a whisper of a whisper i say
"The worst kind of love
is not the love never returned
(though that love is hurricane enough).
No, the worst love is the love never spoken.
The love aborted before it can even struggle for a breath.
The love like an angel being blown backward
by the winds from the abyss of despair."

from behind me she says
"I never had a chance . . ."

i say

nothing






Bill was born circa the early fifties on the trailing edge of the beautiful generation (remember the Hippies?) and raised in and around the rolling hills and glens of the eastern part of the planet.
Bill holds lots of degrees (mostly Celsius, some Fahrenheit some Kelvin) in areas such as electrical engineering, biomedical engineering and education. He keeps the hounds of starvation at bay by teaching electrical engineering and electrical technology courses for various colleges. He has written eleven plays that have made the stage and been published in over 100 hardcopy magazines, as well as a metric bunch of web page zines. Bill lives with his bride of 33 years and their three children.

Find more of William's work on the following pages:


© William C. Burns Jr.






2 comments:

C. Sandlin said...

I just keep reading this over and over, revisiting the images and clinging by my fingertips to the last phrase. Fascinating.

C. Sandlin said...
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