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Open Poetry #46
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Silent Symphony
| Open Poetry #46 |
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Silent Symphony |
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Richy Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050
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What is this thing, called silence? Has anyone ever even heard it, before? Then how do we even know it exists? I mean, if a deaf mime fell over in a forest, would it still make a frown? Oh wait, skip that. A sound, is something you can hear right? Then what was sound called before there was ever anything around to hear it? Was it still noise? Or was it just an aborted scream in an alley of time? Do we have to redefine what music is? Even without eardrums you can still hear the beat of a heart can’t you, or the words, I need you, screamed onto your skin in a heartbroken whisper? What was vision, before there was anyone around to see anything? What was feeling before there was anyone around to embrace, or any other living thing for that matter to feel anything? Or how about taste, was that possible before anything or anyone, was around to taste anything? Our senses, are the flip side of evolution, aren’t they? A contusion of illusion of foregone, conclusion. Is that when life really started, with consciousness? With comprehension? The transit of information is the subway of creation, in the grand celebration of life’s, donation. What was it exactly, in this, beginning we keep… hearing about? How do you have, a big bang, with no one around to hear the clang? How do you have a big flash with no one around to see the clash? Sounds like a firework display in a black hole, that no one bought tickets to? But then if no one bought tickets to the show, then it would be, a black out anyway wouldn’t it? Oh yeah, I said, it sounds like, I meant, it seems, like. No sound yet, remember? It seems more like the Fourth of You Lie then anything we’re accustom to. What a big mystery we have here don’t we? Actually, there’s no mystery at all. This, just is. Life, is. It is our mind, that creates the mysteries. Life, existence, the world around us, they’re all just sitting around in the sky and in the ground, laughing at us, and so am I. Because none of us can figure things out around here anymore. We’re too stupid and shallow worrying about Johnny passing a note to Sally in study hall, and why can’t we be, the most popular. Boo hoo, effing feffin, hoo. But seriously, how come Sally doesn’t like me guys? Oh hell, let nature laugh at us with its thunder, and cry at us with its rain, why shouldn’t it we’ve brought so, so, much beauty into this world, too bad we also had to bring along the pain. The art, of wisdom, is realizing the truth that there is no such thing as wisdom. There is only, nature. And simplicity. Insight, is the guy who dares to be foolish. Oh yeah, and so is happiness. Pay me not ever in paper dollars, but in golden wits. The best conversation I ever had was with a grain of sand caught in my eye that missed his grandmother, mama mountain. The grain knew she was in the distance but it couldn’t get to her and so he used me to see her. That piece of sand felt like Mt. Everest in my eye but I never removed it. I think it finally just dissolved into my being. Becoming just a little more grit In my gut. Funny how that eye now always waters when we’re out taking a hike. The great poet once said, that brooks babble and grapevines gossip, but that the desert just doesn’t speak and that he couldn’t understand, its silence. Maybe that was just because the desert had dry mouth. What, am I making mountains out of molehills? Well that’s easy for you to say you’re not an ant. The best story I ever read was a day spent out in nature, without a book. Where once upon a climb there was the leaf, who jumped to the river because he wanted to be a sailor. It made it to the ocean and sailed around the world only to miss his roots, and his family tree. We need to start reading with our ears again. Hey guys, do me a big giant favor and close your eyes for just five seconds. Thank you. Now, do me another favor, and shut your ears. I said shut your earholes godarn it! What! You can’t? Exactly… howboutthat? Why is that do you think? Is it because we were meant to hear more, then see? Too bad too many are able to shut their minds like they shut their eyes and go through their whole life being blinded with vision. Why can’t people just shut the bleep up sometimes? And just bleeping listen for once? We just have this all bass ackwards. This is a pineapple right side down cake world people. You ever get a freezer burn before? Yes, exactly. Silence, is my best friend. She’s a great listener, and don’t think she doesn’t talk back, because she does There, was a time when man made no noise. When the earth, did all the talking. But now, we get to busy to talk to her anymore. What a shame, shame on you, shame on me. Shame on us All. If you just take the time to listen quietly, real, real, quietly, you can hear the leaves growing on a tree. These leaves just waiting to meet their descendants on the ground, crunching with joy when we help push them into their heaven with our feet. The trees, pining to one another and telling tall tales in the twilight. We can’t make silence, we can only walk through its doors. It’s always been there waiting, just waiting. All we can make is racket. I’m sorry to say, but speaking words isn’t talking. Actions, are the real words. Our movements, an embrace, the glance, the last kiss, making love, these are the words that mean the most to us right? Don’t they? All these letters and sentences that’s just kids play people. All this scribble your writing and reading right here, especially mine, it’s just rabble, false promises and clatter. We need to go back to being like flowers and talk to each other with scent. Funny how when I close the eyelids of my ears, that’s when I hear, the most. When I’m laying in the still of slight. On the coast, of not right. As ancient tides break me with fluid fables of able discovery. And lost tidings. The waves, they keep crashing and dashing, winds, knotting and dotting, in some kind of norse code, that stalls me from rotting, as swells that dwell tap on island keyes on the crab legs of my clam bed, as a pier appears, for my pillow of fears in the cry of the sky in some kind of teardrop tantrum that lived to die, drowning out this howl of hills as the volcano spills up roaring shrills during whispered screams of broken streams and thuds of thundered thrills that gleam, through vines of whine, that intertwine in that simple pimpled, grand design Of calm. This booming calm, as trees somehow begin to bough and bark to me. As a dogwood, in, slow, slow, motion, chases a cattail toward an evergreen, that never comes, but, always leaves. This world of hush and muffled stillness, is all I want and all I grieve. She, is my pantry of daffodil pickles. And my bakery of butter flies and gardens of flours. She is, my bred of life and she is all that I knead. As the corn lends an ear to the sturgeon in the sea, and listens and listens, so very carefully, to his tale of roe, as the mouth of the river starts to deliver a rock and roll chant of sea that steals, the flow. And yet, it is this aria in the air this, poetry of progeny that we all belong unto, a secret that fillets our soul into the crashing weaves of spin and whole, black in its light and white in its shade, a defined obscurity man unmade that can only be heard if you listen to birds and fall on the blades of grass in the glade. Swaying psalms, ocean blues, that stardust serenade. Rub your eyes against the sun the wishing well not pray. All the answers that never were lie deep outside the shallow. To every question that never was that hung aside the gallows. You can hear them in that distant gaze that looks, beside the haze. Like things that never meant to be like promises in maize. These dreams of fields that act like shields they blanket me, with missed. Wield it they will hum, it said as wind notes, reminisced. Silence always, was the song. That never, took a breath. Press your lips onto my chest. That wailing cry. Is death. [This message has been edited by Richy (07-30-2010 09:28 AM).] |
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| © Copyright 2010 Richy - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Honeybunch Member Rara Avis
since 2001-12-29
Posts 7115South Africa |
Wow! Such a rewarding read, Richy, and as I was reading the words "yes, yes, yes" broke through the silence but I'll add another one here - "Amazing". I'll be back for another read - too much substance for just one. And soon another weekend. Enjoy! Helen |
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Richy Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050 |
Thank you dearheart! Have a fabulous weekend! Richard xx |
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BluesSerenade Member Patricius
since 2001-10-23
Posts 10549By the Seaside |
These dreams of fields that act like shields they blanket me, with missed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Your poetry speaks to me in ways I can't explain. I am deeply moved by your enormous heart, and the emotions you evoke. Love and warm hugs, Richy~ |
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Andrew Scott Member Elite
since 1999-06-24
Posts 2558Redlands,CA,USA |
Now that I have read not once, not twice, but three times through, I must say that this is one of the finer pieces it has been my pleasure to read. Long... sure... too bad that will scare many a reader away. They'll never know what they missed. I like the sound patterns found through out, and the almost hit-and-run tactics feel you use. I appreciate the message and the time and effort it takes to write something like this. Thank you for sharing. I bow to you and yours. Peace "We'll chase them like rats across the tundra." |
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Richy Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050 |
Lori, I'm glad I can speak to you at least this way. Much love to you dearheart! (((((You))))) Richard xx |
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Richy Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050 |
Dear Andrew, Thanks so much friend for all your support of late, it is soo appreciated. I only wish that we could edit our pieces here after 24 hours. When I reread this now even after the short time that its been posted I see so many parts that I have deleted, and revised, in my personal document that are still on this one, oh well, what can we do. Thanks for languishing through my scribbles they are getting longer then ever oh gosh. I'm working on a piece now, that might be longer then this one. Thanks again buddy, I hope all is wonderful with you and your's! Richard  |
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Andrew Scott Member Elite
since 1999-06-24
Posts 2558Redlands,CA,USA |
Hey Rich... as the saying goes, "We are our own worst critics." But I know what you mean about wanting to change this or that. At some point, you just got to "let it be." Keep 'em comin'. Peace. "We'll chase them like rats across the tundra." |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
Once when I was younger I had a vision of a time when there was true silence. It was so profound I thought I could hear it. This intense poem reminded me of that vision, Rich. Ida |
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Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
quote: Just picked out this one from the bouquet of brilliant poetic lines you offer here, dear Richard. You have packed a lot into this work and I find there is a quantic touch to it ... Very rich ... Richie! Love, Margherita |
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Earth Angel Member Empyrean
since 2002-08-27
Posts 40215Realms of Light |
Oh, dear Richy! You are an amazing philosophical poet who is full of wit and passion. What a delight you are! Love 'n hugs, Linda |
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Richy Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050 |
Andrew - "At some point, you just got to "let it be." Never! :P Thanks friend! |
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Richy Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050 |
Marchmadness - Ida, that must have been really special! Thanks for stopping by! Richard xx |
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Richy Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050 |
Margherita - Thank you dearheart, your words are always so special to me! Richard xx |
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Richy Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050 |
Earth Angel - Linda, thanks love for always being so kind! It's so nice to hear from you again! I hope all is wonderful with you and your fam! Richard xx |
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Amaryllis Senior Member
since 2010-05-20
Posts 1306Mi now |
This poem is fascinating.. thrilling, with unexpected twists of phrase and turns of thought.. wonderful, wonderful.. I could not decide which parts to quote, because there were so many favorite parts! At the risk of sounding fawning.. this is simply a subperb write, Richy. ~Amaryllis |
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Richy Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 3050 |
Don't worry Amyrylls you can fawn anytime :p Thanks dear friend, coming from you that means alot! Richard xx |
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