or, Why I’m Not Writing About Wars and the Extinction of Species
My unbearable silence
will not let go of me.
Words choke in my throat.
The poems don’t stumble
or fall – they are paralysed
before they start. Horrors
we can’t help contemplate
strike me silent. It’s not
that I don’t want to cry out
against them. To scream or sob
would be release, if only
in that moment. To yell outrage
might at least make the point,
even to those who refuse to listen:
they could not afterwards say
that the words were never said.
But the saying dies inside me
before being born, in the face of
all the words said by others, unheard.
Written for Poets and Storytellers United, in response to Friday Writings #144; To speak up or stay silent? in which we are invited to consider a poem by Rajani Radhakrishnan. My title here, and the reference to stumbling and falling, quote that poem.
The "unheard" at the end is so powerful... I think your poem, just by expressing anguish at its own silence, speaks for those whose voices are not heard...maybe we don't have to rage against the dying of the light, just point to it gently so everyone turns to look.
ReplyDeleteThank you. That's a good thought.
DeleteThe "Unheard" hits me hard too. That's often one of my chief frustrations. It helps when I remind myself how heartening it can be just to hear yourself say the thing out loud, even if I am the only one listening.
DeleteYes, good to stay in touch with one's own truth and resist all the propoganda that's out there. And while things we say may not be heard, things we don't say definitely won't be. (Advice to myself!)
DeleteA beautiful poised poem and a searching dilemma..Jae
ReplyDeleteThank you. To even write this goes some little way to addressing that dilemma.
DeleteWow a beautiful, true, and powerful poem Yes I know the feeling of outpouring energy just dying in the face of being unheard
ReplyDeleteAt least P&SU provides a place to 'hear' each other. I find treasures each week.
DeleteYes, too often "unheard" is the reasoning behind not speaking out and an excuse for staying silent. Also, not sure who said: History repeats itself because nobody listens the first time.
ReplyDeleteIt gets disheartening. I am nearly 85 and have been yelling as loudly as I could about environmental dangers most of my life, and I'm far from the only one – yet here we are.
DeleteC'mon Aussie c'mon c'mon....
ReplyDeleteLaugh the buggers off the planet?
For an ole sheila
You're pretty amazing !
Yes, I hadn't considered that option – until I read your poem, Rall!
DeleteAnd thank you.
Yes, the problem. How to be heard above the crowd. Instead of the crowd.
ReplyDeleteAh well, if enough of us yell loudly enough.... I've been convinced by others' poems on this topic that we must keep on speaking up.
DeleteYour poem highlights there being something seriously wrong within some of our societies and that Compassion Fatigue has become a thing.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure it is – but this poem is more an expression of despair.
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