MISSION STATEMENT

SILENT VOICES SPEAK started out as Silent Voices: A Writer’s Workshop, as the first group at the drop-in center at the Broadway location of Community Counseling Centers of Chicago, whose purpose is to empower it’s attendees to form and attend their own groups.

We have branched out as an independent entity. We are silent no more. We say yes to the creative possibilities of life & art...

The mission of SILENT VOICES SPEAK is to give a voice to people who are disenfranchised. Many of the participants in SILENT VOICES SPEAK are also visual and/or performing artists.

Membership is open to all.
Send submissions to lizhipwell@gmail.com.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

HOLDING HOPE by Sharon Horton

Hope                          
Wish
Desire
with the possibility
of being?
in my reality-
just wasn't to be.
Not as a child
not in my life,
it was about
getting through the moment
my focus- survival
no room for such a word
that was beyond foreign1
Survival instinctive
no expecting, wishing, wanting-
but like a deer frozen
trying to avoid that which
wants to destroy me
Reactive, instinctive response
without thought process.

Only now
is there possibility
of a word, an idea- such as Hope.
Carefully, I hold a glimmer
allow myself to be in its light,
and even while I do this
my child part tries desperately
to push it away.
To her- survival means we cannot hope
I am another adult risking
her survival
A betrayer
she does not understand
that to be alive-
really alive-
we must be able to move beyond
just surviving.
That life can also allow us
to be happy, to risk for better,
In her mind- life is life
there is no changing the bad
and words like happiness
growth
they mean risk
beyond reach
they cause fear- core deep.
It has taken us so long
to survive
to feel safe
to trust anyone again,
now, in her eyes,
I endanger,
I betray!

She see's collapse
where I see chance,
choosing the unknown
over safety
makes no sense to my
child self,
Yet I know
It is a must- for both of us!

We are at a standoff
and like every adult
she's ever known
I have the power over her.
She's left with her fear,
No words I speak
can make her believe that
it will be okay-
and I have no guarantees
except that I
Hold Hope
for the both of us.
-Sharon H.

I BRING NOTHING TO THE TABLE by Elizabeth Hipwell




Belly rolling over through the sinews of my spotty,
Dirty cotton t-shirt.

"I bring nothing to the table," 

It says in bold and broken red letters.
Looking lost,
Caught up in the confines of days of yore
Which dictate who and what I should be. 
I tip my dirty white yarmulke in reverence to the
Customs and spiritual observations of my cultural 
Tradition,
Which gives me a chance to have a semblance of dignity 
In a world which only sees what it sees...
In my overgrown gray hair and beard,
Soiled baggy pants,
Worn out shoes, 
Sans socks, 
And a torn plastic shopping bag.

"I bring nothing to the table."

I am a page off of the reality of life which inspires
This poem,
An understanding of those without empathy,
Intrigue and tradition...
Having an impact on another who sits across from me 
And has worn this t-shirt in her heart...
Searing her soul with the words

"I bring nothing to the table."

Seeing me,
Enabling those BBQ words to come unhinged.
Floating to the surface of consciousness.
Seeing me has inspired another to become overwhelmed 
With respect,
Recognition and compassion.

"I bring nothing to the table."  

I bring everything to the table...

It's just a t-shirt after all,
And can be discarded...
-Image & Words by Elizabeth Hipwell

THE TREE by Sharon Horton

I used to worry I was alone
I used to believe life was worthless

I used to wish I was strong
   Pretty
  Smart

Then one day
I looked out my window
and saw a tree

A tall
Crooked
Perfect tree

I nearly choked
on the epiphany

We arrive inside
an envelope
of bones

There's nothing to be done
about this

so fill it with joy
let it brim with creativity.

-Sharon H.

Untitled by Jackie Tajiri