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Silence: Fear of the Sound that Never Came

Seven years ago
my life was a riot,
Scattered and deafening.
The roar of possibility
was so loud
I hardly heard it.
I was too busy to notice,
looking for silence.

Six years ago
the melee stopped.
The cacophony that
I had lived with
for so long
stilled, replaced by
the pulse of my own heart.

Five years ago
I was warned
that my heart may stop.
It might be
torn away from me.
I was taught to fear silence.

Four years ago
I locked my heart away,
but I knew
that couldn't prevent
the loss of it.

Three years ago
the safe was cracked.
I came home
to find it empty.

Two years ago
pain and screaming
began to quiet.

One year ago
I embraced the silence.

Editing stage: 

Comments

to make light of this work, as I know that it is a serious and good piece, but...At first, I thought you were talking about Tinnitus! I've suffered from it for years and years. After a while, you do get so used to the noise in your ears, you do not hear it, unless you listen for it or you get a dose of silence unexpected. Not sure what you mean by: "The sage was cracked, I came home to find it empty" It seems as though you might be using the word [sage] out of context? I understand everything but that. Made me feel as though you had a pretty busy life, but didn't understand the possibilities that you had and just wanted to be free of the trouble of dealing with all the action going on. My take, just thinking. ~ Gee.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

In fact, I did take inspiration from tinnitus! Though the poet isn't about tinnitus. Sage was a typo. It was meant to be safe. Thanks for catching that.

author comment

About both the tinnitus and the typo. I understand where you are coming from with this poem. Nice job! ~ Geezer

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

outside the wind has stopped
calling for snow...an indifferent spring sky
cleaning the apartment
feeling the once life full in its walls
now quiet...the crazy days lent to hazy
days and now the crazy train has stopped
the vista
the view

I feel like a car crash..a roll over I went through
no one hurt save me
car towed...
I went back to salvage some items
amazed at the crap i collected i thought
so wonderful and important
reminded me of the old homes i toured
loving the time frozen abandonments
the ruins i found peace in

yet...i rode roller coasters and sat on the
back of fast bikes
rode shotgun in vintage sixties cars
with jacked up turbocharged bored out
v eights....forget mad max..i lived it
for a moment in time
and then now

a stillness like a winter nite of life
snow falling like sediment on a wreck
tilted..

i get the whole poem
the feeling of it
not just sadness but joy
epic aftermath the ache
longing..hauntedness
frustration
need and
the weird element
when I got everything i wanted
and still that dark wind that made
me shiver with fear and expectant
rush of it
even the empty safe
it was like....aha...i knew it would
be empty...and yet...happiness
something
someone valued it enough to
just take it.horde it
probably for the same want
of its use..value ...key...

falling down the rabbit hole
of late
it just is
it happens

but your poetry is how i see
my world..and feel it..
like light....atmosphere
nothing is just ordinary
just a place i got too
I dont think people are meant
to live here
its kind of sacred or profane
and its just stillness and peace
which is okay

this will pass
for me
but in meantime
your work is like a key
that unlocks a door
to perceptions

listening to music
drifting at the moment
a bohemian moment

thank U for your incredible
poetry

Mr Wolf...

I'm very glad that this poem was able to resonate with you.

author comment

A highlight being the oxymoron, roar was so loud I hardly heard it. You have a highly attractive imagination.

Keith Logan
the happy chappy
https://www.neopoet.com/community-guidelines

I do believe you have the making of a great poem . I would only say in your flow less is more

Could you please elaborate?

author comment

this poem is a testament to your skill in writing. Thanks for sharing.

Alid

To a place of peace? A literal boisterous start and a spiritual destination? A maturing, a quieting, or - maybe the journey of companionship that slowly changed, a resolution? Could be interpreted, and works on a number of levels. I do love the ambiguity.
just catching up, trying to get up to speed with some earlier works of writers that crop up with little gems like this from time to time.

Very intriguing and a pearl pale touch - reading much Dickinson?

Thank you.

Chris.

PS my own take on silence:
https://www.neopoet.com/workshop/poems/brokered-silence
Would be interesting to get your take..

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

When I was an electronics technician I worked for a man who suffered dreadfully from tinnitus. The only positive is that it wasn't continuous but came and went. I created a battery operated white noise generator he could carry in a pocket, so when it got bad he could put in miniature earpieces then tweak the centre frequency and amplitude of the signal. It helped enormously.

Keith Logan
the happy chappy
https://www.neopoet.com/community-guidelines

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