If I Were to Speak

I've been thinking quite hard, and know I am currently evolving from a stage of writing TOO MUCH poems, to being born as a writer of dialogues. That is correct. Dialogues.
This one is about what people think behind your back.


If I were to speak, would thee listen?
Then let be my tongue be cut by your smothering whims.
Would you? Or noble brutes shut thine mouths now,
Answer my plea! Would you?
Ha! Your mouths, that speak upon the shield
lay limping upon the cry.
For what is speech?
‘Tis but a limping ass,
that cowers and creeps through the meadows.
Neighing, upon the mishaps of his master,
But hark!
He cowers upon the sword’s sheath,
On his master’s back,
With fear that his enemies bark!
Then backbite, shall you
And your brother’s son,
Linger me!
Befit me!
A peasant!

- January 24, 2006