Tag Archives: Shaina Clingempeel

Facts and Figures

by Shaina Clingempeel

For the sake of stability,

I’ve let facts and figures sink in.

Staining my skin with trivialities.

For a worn-out common dream.

For a mid-life wine and dine.

Vapid talks with respectable robots.

Old colleagues of mine.

Proud owners of cookie-cutter houses.

With fine professions to discuss.

And lives void of significance.

As they converse in insipid tongue.

Drowning in the spotlight.

From a passionless existence.

Longing for something to sing about.


Song of the Soft-spoken

by Shaina Clingempeel


Cheers to the song of the soft-spoken.

The man without the megaphone.

No words escape from his clever tongue.

So society banishes him to obscurity,

Carelessly tossing his quill up in flames.

And just as my rebel soul has found,

Only the spoken words resound.


Paralyzed by the piercing limelight,

I hear whispers ringing louder than my cries.

As life passes perilously by,

And I thrive behind the curtain.

Tumbling–aimlessly through space and time,

I am blamed for residing in my own mind,

I am the cameraman.


But the fire in my soul burns bright.

Brighter than that of those of stage,

And into the night’s darkest hour.

In which my words dissolve rapidly.

Without so much as an echo.

Amidst your nonsense strings of syllables

To which people listen.


So scream those syllables into a megaphone,

Speak aloud; scare the crowd into stunned silence.

Raise your voice to be heard, speaking without saying a word.

As you sell your soul for that tragic trade.

Where passion evades your existence.

And as for me, I have it in spades,

But only the spoken words resound.