The reckless quiet that I’ve become…

The reckless quiet that I’ve become…

There is a thief in the heart that steals away the sweetest of things. It wears a cloak and is invisible until it is too late. Hearts are the soft, kind workings of our souls, the part of us that bleeds a little too easily and that takes the longest time to heal.

Unkindness can come from anywhere, even from those that love us most. I should know because for all my best intentions I can be as cruel as anyone without even raising a finger, sometimes without even knowing. But it is not just barbs that pain the heart. Hearts need tending, for hearts get lonely so very easily. They get lonely in the biggest of crowds and in the friendliest of spaces. Hearts need reminding that they are loved. There is no excuse to leave a loved heart to its own devices; it is a cruelty that does not deserve forgiveness.

There is a tick tock to our love clock, a beating rhythm that ebbs and flows quietly but ever steady in the background of our days.  It is a beautiful, wonderful sound that has illuminated my life through the affections of the woman I love ever so much.  My gentle joy, the iron for the crinkle it contains to smooth out the creases in my soul. I can never be worthy of such tender love. My heart can only click its clank and hope to tenderise my tears when I fall short of the mark.


Sometimes sadness is all that we have. If like me melancholy is your beginning, finding your way to the end can seem like a journey that is too hard to make. Days can be long, nights longer and when darkness descends there is very little you can do to without a light to guide you. We all need a light to shine on occasion and it is important to remember that sometimes you are not the only one who is wandering lost in the dark. I am a forgetful selfish man and need to be reminded that the world does not just carry me; there are other travellers in the dark, waiting for a hand to hold.


My older brother died eight years ago today and it seems like those years have disappeared. Perhaps my melancholy has stolen them from underneath my feet.  I am older now than he was when he died and it lies heavy on my mind, especially of late. I suspect the stupid physical pain I have been struggling with recently has not helped, for it has worked like a drill to bore a hole deeper into the darkness through which I have descended. But looking down I see no one else, looking down I can see only the darkness of my fate and although I know where this all leads, I also know that the road back to finding even a moment of joy, can only be seen by looking up. Sometimes it is easier to look down. But sometimes is unforgiveable.

Like I said, I have a selfish heart. It pfhutters and stutters, closes the shutters and strangles my compassion, dampens my passion, wallows me in me, sets the selfish free. Where now my sparkle?  There was a damp fizzle-pop sound and out it went .I need it back now please, I need to feel the squeeze of a smile for a while. What use am I to the one I love if I fall from above to the pit, to the darkness? I become a hindrance in that dark, an anti-lark to drag the world around me back under the covers.yyyyI’m disappearing it seems. There was a me once, but I’ve lost him as I fade, a tired and jaded shadow, a freckle not whole, a speckle, translucent, transparent and there is no heir apparent waiting to appear from under my skin. I am not afraid, I am unmade perhaps, a little collapse of my foundation, undermining my station which has seen me stumble of late.

I find myself unworthy of the hearts of those that mean the most to me. Lost in my abstention, there is no deserving redemption for the unforgiveable me, the crumbling missing me, when I wallow in my hollow and forget to lighten hearts and touch the parts of smiles that make them rise.  And what of this mess, this cardboard cut-out mindless me that is blind but can still see, the reckless quiet that I have become. I suspect there is little hope left if I cannot become un-bereft, if I cannot find the sun again. There is always an ember, a sparkle to remember and all I have to do is find it. Then perhaps I can be the twinkle that other hearts need, be the light and not the mist , and bring the smiles to the lips I love the most…

Haven’t read a Max Power book yet?  I think it’s time to pick one up.
Max Power’s books include, Darkly Wood, Darkly Wood II The woman who never wore shoes, Larry Flynn, Bad Blood and Little Big Boy
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7 thoughts on “The reckless quiet that I’ve become…

  1. I find, Patrick, that the first step towards looking up is sharing your sadness. My heart too has been weighed down by sorrow for many years, sometimes unbearably, and you’re right that it can remove you from those you love. But don’t think that those people won’t understand; don’t underestimate them. Look up and see the stars, my friend. The world is still a wonderful place.

    Liked by 4 people

  2. You seem to be caught in a hard place in recent months. It’s true, I have only your blog posts to go by, but they’ve taken an increasingly darker turn, and I feel myself concerned for you because, really, any of us can get trapped in a downward spiral, and you have too much “spark” to suffer that easily. I’m not going to pretend to “advise” anything from this distance, but I hope you will remember, and remind yourself of, that whip smart wit that is yours and your sassy thumbing of the conventional idiocy out there, and feel your own strength. Life IS hard sometimes, but it is also beautiful, and who would not grab it back for one more go at the last moment?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Fear not my friend I’ve climbed in and out of darkness all my life since I was a boy. It never consumes me fully but I share because I hope perhaps those who are similarly challenged understand they are not alone. It visits so many but I’m lucky enough to always find my way through it – thank you for your kind words.. ☘️🎈

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I think you can only feel great joy and appreciation if you also know its opposite. When the other side of you emerges again, the light will be ever so bright and you will spread it once again. Thanks for showing your vulnerability in such poetic style.

    Liked by 1 person

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