when what lingers
is the dying vibration
of a sound

before the next key
is struck

when the world
makes sense

and life is found
in the silence

(D. James)

waiting for you
to come through
the door

the sound
of water
about to boil

your scent
permeates
the apartment

the water
whistles

everywhere
reminders
of you

this
is what I
came here for

(D. James)

and I can’t find
any that fit

or don’t sound
self-serving

what’s left
is silence

maddening
deafening
unbearable
silence

(D. James)

fierce thunder
barks

the air
thick and wet

Black streets
reflect lamplight

hard sound
of water falling
from a long way up

Tortured soul
of weather
wrestling
with the city
tonight

as if the sky
hurt and afraid
needs to be heard

wants its wrath
to be known
exerting some
momentary sense of control

only to lose
against the granite
and steel
blacktop and brick

The hard city
that falters in flood

but never ever
gives in
never loses
the war

(D. James)

empty words
without action

said again
and again

until there is
nothing
but sound

like shadows
in fog

smoke and mirrors

leaving us
nowhere
with nothing

(D. James)

for what
does not exist

All chatter
and clutter

with no way
to turn down
the sound
or change
the channel

(D. James)

Saying the most
benign things
about the weather
or what someone else
has already said

I look for silence

But still they talk
and talk
without really saying
anything

In the end
I wonder …
do these words
really get us anywhere?

(D. James)