Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.



There was a sudden silence
cutting deep into my heart.
The noise of living ended
and all connection broken.
I listened for a faint whisper
to tell me there is no end
but no words were spoken..
I thought I would see you again,

There is a painful silence.
No voice to comfort
no one to lead the way
as my day is near
and my soul listens
for a whisper
to tell me you are there..

Editing stage: 


there's a spelling error in the word "Angel" in the bold title.
Hmmmm,, from the first stanza's 3rd line, "The noise of living ended", I understand that this poem is about losing a loved one to death. Am I right? Good job, Geremia. Well done.


thanks ! :)

author comment

in this i feel...the radio was my link when i lived alone ..important times in a mans life..
and now an echo in reverse.....i wear my battered old headhphones
seeking music to a solace...a deeper resonance...i like how you worded this....its more
open then a finality of previous works.....reminds me of when i turned back on a journey
the road still ahead at dusk......home will be where i arrive....thank you!

The sense of alienation, Steven, when you feel you are about to leave this world is the "Silence."

thanks, my friend

author comment

A very good write , it is as all that at our ages and state of health search around for that final message , or when to buy the ticket.
You will be called one day or night as you sleep, the voice will be one that you know so there will be no dithering or wondering.
I watched as my Brother in Law heard the call, it was silent, just a few seconds before, he had told my wife that he loved her, if only we could all go this way and know it, our torment at the near end of our lives would end.
You take care and know we are there with you as always,
Yours Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

There are worse things than death, Ian


author comment

That you say there are worse things than death, maybe you are right, but life is never easy, it is a struggle from the day we emerge into this plain till we return to our home again.
We therefore must accept that the things we suffer are for a reason and I am sure that all your life hasn't been bad.
As we reach out to embrace death shall we pick up a quill and write to the many we leave behind.
You have lots to do young Joe as I have said before, and the little lady will wait in anticipation of your arrival, there is no hurry as she is at your side always.
Yours as always Ian.T

There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

I have heard some people say that life is what you make of it. Even the worst of situation can bring out the best in us if we learn from it and strong nough to endure it. I suppose that's way the saying "What doesn't kill you can make you stronger" comes from. As for things worse than death, anyone who believe in heaven and hell will agree 100% with that statement. As for the rest if they define death as the end of pain, they will agree too.


Life has to have meaning, When your body no longer functions and every simple task becomes monumental, then life is a heavy burden to deal with, As a Roman Catholic, suffering is part living and dying.


author comment

The metaphor brings truth to the feelings expressed--it strikes the language like hot poker, and whatever truth you are expressing has deeper meaning. Form gives content that special poetic value.



author comment

thats hardcore ..and sucess of walls built
and maintained...
almost a tomblike essence to this..
like a bomb shelter...fallen ill
and cant get out..knowing
no ones coming in either...
but you got the us here..
and we relate!

Im thinking..what would I want to take
with me
because we are taught to rid of all things
vikings burn all their stuff..cultures tell
to give away..

but I know you are talking of the inner
the self.....not the outer
one of the reasons I relate

I just did another bad overdose
not bad enough....just bad enough
to squeal around the curve
planned to get picked up
its messed
people i know whom are dying
get pissed
at me

but my inner is at times
bleak and hurt and angry
and empty
and Im like..yup Im going
to shut off..

then i get pissed and keep

poetic value...yes
very much so
often poets just write
along and then kaboom
they go

they dont explain in poems
how they feel
each time i see you writing
i know its just a way
of laying a track of the same

I get it now...

Thank You!

My inner self suffers the most terrifying feelings. My disease has progressed unexpectedly and I fear what it will do to me next. Lonelness and fear are the worst inflictions a human being can deal with: the physical hurt is a mere inconvenience in comparison....yet it is the base cause of the terror I feel.

I come from a culture who takes care of its aged as I took care of my father and mother. None were placed in a nursing home. Mom died at home holding my hand, Things have changed, We are a throw-away society. Might as well put me on an ice berg and let me float to sea.

There has got to be meaning to all this,, Steven.I don't see it.


author comment
(c) No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.