Tuesday, July 31, 2018

Sounds of Silence





on some good days, 
silence is a gentle
bed of summer
filled with whirling cotton 
puffs

but these times are few
as there sits this silence
beside me
digging into my eyes
(i can't sleep)
rifling me out of my ear drums 
of tranquility
& pouring darkness in the cracks 
of my skin-

sometimes it is a phlegm
that sticks to the tongue
i rinse with alcohol
drowning it with yellow-spotted pills 
but it   
keeps growing a music
of wailing wind, dripping faucet
& sobbing grave stones  
(i can't sleep)

how do you keep this silence
silent?   


Posted for the dVerse Poets - Poetics - Sounds of Silence by guest blogger Dwight Roth.  Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  For this write, I tried to get into the head of an individual with mental health issues/depression.   Thanks for your visits.

20 comments:

  1. Grace, you have captured it well. I have heard such people suffering with isolation, at the same time as their brains are filled with non-stop voices. The wailing wind and sobbing grave stones are so powerful.

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  2. A frightening poetic, a dystopian diatribe, and a fine use of the prompt. You had me at /pouring darkness into the cracks in my skin/.

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  3. Oh I do love how you describe this description... I think we have felt part of this a few times... but knowing that there are many who really have those dripping faucets and darkness spilling into the cracks of your skin.

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  4. Such an insightful poem, Grace, that expresses that dichotomy of being human - we need the silence but we also need noise. A poem that gets to the nitty gritty, especially in the lines:
    '...there sits this silence
    beside me
    digging into my eyes
    ...
    & pouring darkness in the cracks
    of my skin'.

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  5. & pouring darkness in the cracks
    of my skin

    love that. You've explored insomnia so well here.

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  6. Yes silence invites company, sometimes, whether we like it or not
    Very vivid write. Grace

    much love...

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  7. Your haunting last line will stay with me, Grace! An amazing write!

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  8. Grace, you have really zeroed in on this one. I love all of the imagery of silence staring at you, wailing winds and sobbing gravestones. Well done.

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  9. Nice description: "pouring darkness in the cracks
    of my skin"

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  10. I think silence must not really be silent. I mean, at the very least, there's sound in how we breathe ... sometimes heavy, sometimes light.

    Even the dead breathe. Can't you feel us? ;)

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  11. The silence sure must not end or ends too long. The mind can be a mystery indeed.

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  12. great irony in the line "keeps growing a music"; the loudness of silence sometimes

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  13. how do you keep this
    silence silent?

    Especially when the silence is deafening! Yes, Grace,very complicating to the idle mind!

    Hank

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  14. Silent- yet a cacophony of sounds and signs. Beautiful

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  15. Awake, our minds are never still but if we can't quiet our minds, we don't sleep...it's a vicious circle!

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  16. wonderfully written ...beautiful, and silence is so loud here!

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  17. A very poignant and powerful write Grace - I do hope those days where 'silence is a gentle bed of summer filled with whirling cotton puffs' will return in abundance xxx

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  18. That last line is priceless Grace. This whole poem is so true to how silence can be. Lovely writing as always! I wanted to let you know that I started another blog prompt site much like Magpie Tales. A photo will post every Sunday, and you have all week to link up and join in. I would love it if you participated. If you decide to here is the link, https://thesundaymuse.blogspot.com/

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