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Seven Years of Silence

I thought the first was hardest,
the sudden change leaving a schism
between the then and the now
which I did not know I would survive.

But the second was harder still,
and I grew sick for loss of sound.
The echoes of old words
haunted my dreams.

The third year I spoke,
I laughed, I danced, and I sang.
They beat me for my defiance,
and left me faint on the floor.

I hated them for the fourth.
All.
Goddamn.
Year.

The fifth year I managed to move again,
my aching body
going through the motions of living
with none of the vigor.

I learned to live again in the sixth.
food felt lush on my tongue,
I grew stronger,
and my body became hale and hearty.

I spent the seventh in stillness,
surrendering my newly mobile limbs
in searching for a nimbler mind
with mute motivation.

I sought balance in the eighth year,
looking for the fine line
where I could be my best
without sacrificing myself.

In my ninth year, I found my heart again,
fallen among the fragments of my faith.
I took it back and welcomed it home,
whole again at last.

My tenth year I waited,
refining lessons learned,
and forging fiercer strength
for the day I would be free.

I spoke again on my eleventh year.
Three simple words:  “Let.  Me.  Out,”
ringing loud and clear –
they set me free.

On Endings – Happily Ever After

The concept of “Happily Ever After” is a common theme in stories.  The heroes or heroines complete their quest and are rewarded with long, happy lives.  Sometimes the viewers are shown the cliffsnotes of that happy future, while other times we are merely left to imagine what has happened to our protagonists.  The story trails off like a sentence whose completion we forget mid-speech.

But sometimes these fade-away Endings don’t leave us satisfied.  Sometimes they do not answer all of our questions (or any, in rare cases).  Sometimes the story trails off not because it is the End, but because the writers and producers want to give the viewers a reason to return the following season.  It’s not an Ending, nor an ending – it’s bait.

Are these proper Endings to stories?  Should we the viewers be given all of the answers?  Or must we earn the truth through critical thinking and analysis?  Do unpopular stories deserve to End without rewarding those who did stick with the show?

What the hell is up with Endings that are, and are not, Endings?

The first story I want to discuss is the movie Inception.  It’s the story of a group of people who dive into others’ minds and attempt to discover secrets.  The protagonist of the movie is a man named Cobb, who has been doing this work while on the run from the law as a suspect in his wife’s death.  He wants nothing more than to be able to return home and see his children.  The client for the final job in the film promises that he will clear the charges against Cobb if Cobb and his team perform an “inception”: the implanting of an idea in someone’s subconscious in such a way that they believe the idea to be original, not planted.

Those dream divers like Cobb carry something with them at all times called a totem, which they use to differentiate between reality and the fantasy of the dream world.  Throughout the film, Cobb is seen spinning a top to test whether or not he is dreaming.  If the top continues to spin endlessly, he knows he is dreaming.  If the top falls over, he knows he’s awake and in the real world.  At the end of the film, Cobb and his team complete their job, the charges against Cobb are cleared, and he is allowed to go home to see his children.  But just before he goes out to see them, he pulls out the top and spins it.  He then leaves the room, but the camera remains focused on the top.  And just when it appears that the top may be starting to slow down and fall, the screen goes to black, and the viewer is left wondering if the Ending is real or another dream.

This isn’t typically what we mean when we refer to the Ending of a story as “Happily Ever After”, but we, the viewers, are still left imagining what is in store for Cobb.  Did he finally get to go home to his family, or was it all a dream?  The Ending is left to our imagination – or is it?

One of the core principles of a totem is that you are supposed to keep yours with you at all times, and never give it to anyone.  The reasoning for this is that if someone else knows how a person’s totem works, they could influence it in the dream world.  They could make someone believe they are awake even though they are still dreaming.  But earlier in the film, it is shown that the top Cobb is using was previously used by his wife.  It violates that rule.  But I have read articles that suggest that the top is, in fact, not Cobb’s totem.

Throughout the film, Cobb also plays with his wedding ring, and the articles I read observed that Cobb only wears his ring in the dream world.  It is never present in the real world.  If that is true, then it is Cobb’s true totem, and the top is a deception – both to the viewer, and to the other members of his team.  And the question of whether or not Cobb is able to finally return home to his children at the End of the movie is answer by whether or not he’s wearing his ring.  The “Happily Ever After” Ending we are left to imagine is also deceptive – there is an Ending to the film, the final question is answered.

But I won’t tell you the answer – you’ll have to watch the Ending yourself.

The next kind of “Happily Ever After” I want to discuss is the kind of Ending that is left open in order to allow for a sequel to the story.  If it Ends there, we have our Story. We may have questions like with Inception, but we do have an “Ending”.  But if a sequel is financed, then we will have more story.  Otherwise, we are left with an open Ending, and must use our imagination to fill in the details.

This is often the case with television series.  Their seasons sometimes end with a hook that will keep viewers motivated to return for a following season.  And the show I would like to discuss is the BBC show Sherlock (a modern reimagining of Sherlock Holmes).  Specifically, I want to discuss the ending of season 2 (or series 2, as the British call it).

At the end of that series, Sherlock’s nemesis Moriarty has cornered Sherlock and put him in a position where Moriarty tries to influence Holmes to kill himself.  If Holmes refuses or takes too long to decide, Moriarty will have Holmes’ closest friends killed.  Moriarty even goes so far as to kill HIMSELF to prevent Holmes from tricking him into revealing anything that would get Holmes out of the situation.  Holmes makes one last phone call to John Watson, his closest friend and partner, before leaping from the roof.  The last scene of the episode and series is that of Holmes’ friends standing over his grave, and John makes a final request for Sherlock to make one more miracle – to pull one more trick and not be dead.  With tears in his eyes, John walks away, and the camera shows a very alive Sherlock Holmes standing in the distance watching his friends as they stand over his “grave”.

Now, it was never in question that a show as popular as Sherlock would be getting a sequel.  We would see what happened.  But that is not always the case with stories.  There was an American vampire show called Moonlight which ended in a similar way: the loose ends of the season were tied up, only to have the final scene of the season, and ultimately the series, be one that hints that the story has just begun.  But that show was not renewed for another season, and the viewers never got a conclusion to the story.  That ending ended up being the Ending for the story.

And while I think it’s a good way to sell another season of a show, keeping the ending of a story hostage to the whims of television financing feels a bit cruel to the viewers.  Sometimes we find out what happens.  Other times, we never get a proper Ending.  We are left with only questions that our imaginations must struggle to answer.

And while that’s not very happy, it is our Ever After for these cut-short stories. It’s sometimes the only Ending we will ever get.  And isn’t that just a little sad?

Songbird

The songbird sings a lovely song,
the spring is in her tune.
And though the flowers flex their powers,
her voice is the brightest bloom.

The songbird sings a lonely song,
it’s raining in her soul.
The long years and buckets of tears
have taken quite the toll.

The songbird sings a bitter song,
the world can be very cruel.
It took her best, it smashed her nest,
and made her feel the fool.

The songbird sings an ugly song,
she doesn’t see her beauty.
The world’s lies clouded her eyes –
her flaws are all she sees.

The songbird sings of sweet rebirth,
for all her dreams came true.
Loved at last – the clouds have passed;
only the sky is blue.

What hath God wrought

The electric telegraph was invented in 1837.
by two teams, independently.

One was Cooke and Wheatstone,
whose model was accepted by the UK.
The other was Samuel Morse and associates,
whose model became the standard for Europe and the United States.
In 1844, Morse sent his iconic message, “WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT”.
The last telegram was sent in July of 1999,
and a signoff followed the message.
And 155 years later,
the words echoed:
“What hath God wrought?”

God hath wrought war:
The American Civil War,
The Boxer Rebellion,
The Russian Revolution,
The Mexican Revolution,
The Great War,
World War II,
The Korean War,
Vietnam,
and the Iraq War
to name a few.
But not all.
No, not all.

God hath wrought equality:
The 13th Amendment to the US Constitution,
The 15th Amendment,
Brown vs. The Board of Education of Topeka Kansas,
and The 24th Amendment.
Feminism:
The First Wave,
Women’s Suffrage,
and The 19th Amendment.
The Second Wave,
Equal pay,
Roe vs Wade –
the fight continues.
The Third Wave,
fighting The Man,
discarding old labels,
redefining yourself,
redefining the world
and what’s to come.

God hath wrought shame:
an indivisible nation divided,
the shadow of Jim Crow,
and Segregation.
Prohibition,
The 18th Amendment,
the rise of The Mob,
and the 21st Amendment.
Watergate,
Iran-Contra,
W.M.D.s,
or maybe there weren’t any,
and Enhanced Interrogation Techniques.

God hath wrought nobility:
Harriet Tubman,
Susan B. Anthony,
Mother Teresa,
Rosa Parks,
Mahatma Gandhi,
Martin Luther King Junior,
The Tank Man of Tiananmen Square,
Nelson Mandela,
and many, many more…

What hath God wrought?
A brave new world that has such people in it.

The Triumph of Tragedy

Don’t try to wipe away my tears,
I’ve been cultivating them for years,
and I’m finally strong enough to express
all the pain that I’d repressed.

And the relief I’ve finally found
falls like rain upon the ground,
and a heart withering on the vine
can at last begin to shine.

So don’t you dare attempt to try
to clear these tears from under my eyes.
I know you’re only trying to help me
by fighting a grief that you perceive.

But I’ve found the strength to show my heart,
and not only just the pretty parts.

The Courage and the Coward

There’s someone that I like
I want to ask them on a date –
My courage says, “Ask tonight.”
My caution says, “Wait.  Wait.”

I stare at her
’til I can’t see straight.
My courage says, “Ask tonight.”
My caution says, “Wait.  Wait.”

The sight of her
spikes my heart rate.
My courage says, “Ask tonight.”
My caution says, “Wait.  Wait.”

I overhear her talk
about a Valentine’s date.
My courage says, “Ask – what?”
My caution says, “Wait…wait?”

How could it be?
Was I too late?
My courage says, “I tried.”
My caution says, “Too late.”

Love bites

Two unpaired lovers,
out searching every night –
looking for someone
with which to share their light.

But the dark is dangerous
and monsters stalk the streets,
taking bites of halfling hearts
and leaving them with teeth.

Some victims do not make it;
their light fades away.
Vampirized by the experience,
they prowl in turn for prey.

Now two hearts are hunting,
but the game has changed:
one seeks to share a life,
the other to share pain.

Edge of the Unknown

I cut myself again
and pay the bitter toll.
I’m desperate to feel whole;
I’m desperate for the pain.
When that familiar feeling
hits me like a wave,
I feel as though I’m saved
by the sanguine healing.

It’s curious that what breaks me
feels like remedy
while what threatens to unmake me
is a sweet melody.
For I fear pleasures unknown
far more than the pain that I call home.