lovedly
lovedly
Nov 09, 2019

Why The Silence

Silence is meaningless
Why do you wish to be silent
even the silent waves
wish to roar

cancel their silence
will or can you
I dare

so I the seas adore
much more
as they are not silent no more
they continue to entice you
send pure surfs of love as before

your Silence
but kills for sure
so stay silent
I pray no more

praise all
the world will adore
you all the more

the sun set's not in silence
what a burning flame
but why still silent
you prefer to remain

About This Poem

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: UNIVERSE...ETERNITY C/O ME, ROU

Favorite Poets: All across the Internet whom I read

More from this author

Comments

Eumolpus

and if you would consider it a work in progress I would consider the following. start with:

Silence is meaningless
Why do you wish to be silent
even the silent waves
wish to roar

I left out "god gave you a voice" it's a cliche we use with children- god gave you hands, eyes, whatever, so use it. Also, from my point of view, if you believe in "god", then to follow his/her will you would spend most of the the time praising his/her name, filling the divine ego. as commanded.

The next distraction is "they continue to love you/as before". I did not know the seas loved me or why. But I like the idea and would like to know why. You have to tell me why, what love the seas show for me.

lastly the premise of the sun setting in "silence". silence is more a metaphor than actual silence.
The sunset is loud with praise of the light, is it not? If silence is "meaningless", (the opening statement and therefore premise of the poem,) then the silence of the sunset is meaningless. But it's not. It is filled with praise. Here's a poem on praise that might help direct you on the subject of silence.

The Poet Speaks of Praising
by Rainer Maria Rilke

Oh speak, poet, what do you do?
--I praise.
But the monstrosities and the murderous days,
how do you endure them, how do you take them?
--I praise.
But the anonymous, the nameless grays,
how, poet, do you still invoke them?
--I praise.
What right have you, in all displays,
in very mask, to be genuine?
--I praise.
And that the stillness and the turbulent sprays
know you like star and storm?
:--because I praise.

December, 1921
(from Rilke on Love and Other Difficulties, ed. and trans. by John J. L. Mood, Norton, 1975)