on stilts, I walk through the haze where silence stays,
there’s a trail of blood I follow towards the night, where
words are without sound and only the shrieks are heard,
another one is hunted, another one is sighing in arms
of death which comforts better than the living can do,
a body is found in the swamp of ignorance, indifference,
his lips are sealed with a long needle of fear, a remnant
of a thread hanging by his lower lip, in an eternal wisp
of a smile, I tug at it to open, hear the words of the dead.
I ache to know what is in silence, amid the numbing noise
of an inhumane blow, of a machete, of a piercing bullet.
.
I wrote a piece for the prompt at dVerse last night but careless that I am, I forgot to save it and ended up losing it. It was oddly melancholic for me because I was satisfied with my words for the first time in months. Today, I tried writing again(in long hand to minimize the risk of losing my words yet again) to raise my voice with all others at dVerse Poetics, in favour of freedom of speech and expression, and against all forms of censorship and forced silence. This piece is not a political commentary; just based on the idea of how I feel for those who dare to speak.
Image source: Low Haze at Dusk by Elaine Jones
What a powerful write, specially the second stanza ~ Can we hear the words of the dead man or just silence of the inhumane blow ~ One of your inspired pieces HA ~ Cheers ~
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If we don’t continue to speak the dead man’s words then they will have been in vain. Wonderful write.
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I am sorry you lost the first poem. This one is powerful, passionate and speaks the truth. The silence shouts for justice and peace. May you have both.
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As poets, scribes, writers, we can count on some of our words surviving us, becoming the words of the dead, the dialogue of history. My modus is to always write in longhand first, & to save the document every time I pause, or leave the computer. Blue penciling comes first with pen, then later with the word processor. Powerful piece, sir; thanks.
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dang…pretty intense piece..and a nice build of the tension in this as well….the stilt wading into the fray…following the blood…the body in the swamp of ignorance makes the greatest statement to me…is the silence worth it…does it really help? maybe if we could silence the pain…and not just ignore it…
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That opening line drew me right in………this is a powerfully moving piece. The image of the body with his lips sealed is piercing. Hits the heart.
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What a powerful write (and imagine the one that was lost…) The chilling part of a sealed lips is especially haunting.. the way that voices that are not liked should be quenched is chilling.. Lot of nice embedded rhymes and cool rhythm make this a great piece
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Truly stunning.
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It’s so frustrating when we lose documents like that!
There are many nuances in this and you evoke a strong response on my part. A line that really struck me: a body is found in the swamp of ignorance, indifference,
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“the swamp of ignorance” is a wonderful metaphor for the hatred that leads to the brutalities that we have been seeing all too often of late.
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This is really good. Am I allowed to reblog?
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That is so very kind of you. You need not ask. Thank you.
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I’m so sorry that you lost your original…I know the feeling of which you speak…I’m glad that even through that you rallied and wrote it again…it is powerful and ethereal…the portion about, “hearing the words of the dead,” striking. Excellent writing.
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I agree with Grace – absolutely powerful write. Thank you for joining my prompt.
Happy holi to you too.
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The dead speak in silence through eyes of those who connect and share the dreams of the dead living dreams on through strife and polite..:)
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powerful poem HA…a pity you lost your first try AND this one is great
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Powerful and inspiring! I am wondering about your original but this is great… The dead speak but at times I wonder, do we really listen?
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Anmol, I have read all the comments and can only agree with whatever has said. A strong, convincing write.
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Mouthwatering imagery
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