Silence – two reflections

These two poetic reflections are unrelated, beyond their focus on silence. The first reflection here considers what it is to fall into the deepening silence of old age. The second reflection looks at the silence that causes, and also results from repression…

 

1ST REFLECTION

Endings

•

shrouded by evening in waning october
as autumn tumbles towards winter
is to know the losing of the light
the ever growing darkness
the advance of the cold
the time of endings
death’s due vigil
deep silence

how do I abide this season

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

2ND REFLECTION

Silenced

•

escape was an improbability
as was understanding
opinions regarding outcome
ignored altogether
fate sealed with no discourse
executed with an air of entitlement

when one has no arms to flail
no fists to clench
no fingers to point
gestures of dissent are sorely limited
rights easily wrest away
freedom falls beyond grasp

inevitable
when one has no voice

• • •

rob kistner © 2011

poem “Silenced” inspired by image below

• linked at Magpie Tales

35 thoughts on “Silence – two reflections

  1. Heartbreaking, Rob. Beautifully put.
    I did think, “Oh, those poor ducks,” but then something else sprang to mind and I had to go with it.

    Kay, Alberta, Canada
    An Unfittie’s Guide to Adventurous Travel

  2. I have trouble with my food looking too much like the animal. I also too easily feel like I can go inside them and sense the protest the prey species may make in the last moments before they are taken.

    Finally, the fate of the Pekin Duck is sealed at birth and the duck has only a month and a half of free range before another month of force feeding and complete incarceration before slaughter.

    We are a cruel species.

  3. Your poem is directly relative to
    the image prompt, powerfully so;
    but there is wiggle room, as it
    works as allegory for those who
    cannot speak for themselves;
    crack babies, middle eastern
    women in burkas, the grievously
    disabled, and the domestic meat
    we raise for protein, every duck,
    calf, and bunny of them.

  4. a amazing way to put what i was feeling when i saw the prompt picture..like a lot of people i don’t like the food to look like the beast which is totally wrong of me i know..your piece was very powerful. thank you !

  5. Love how you go beyond the duck motif into universal sufferage and animal rights. The image does seem very distasteful on a visceral level, but we eat anything when starved I suppose. Really? Would we? That’s why I cannot believe ppl would resort to eating human flesh (the Donner party, Lord of the Flies, etc) Isn’t our moral ground larger than the visceral form we inhabit?

  6. Your finish is amazing! A wonderful tribute to all lost souls…and perhaps a beacon for them to find their way to a community that cares. Power to the Poets, Rob…and you are indeed one.

  7. sad when we lose our voice for whatever reason…fall silent because of the pressure from outside or because of pressure from within …time for us poets to break free…fine write rob

  8. Both are so powerful. I love the first one. The form and the content and even the words as I read them. October , the silent month, sadness permeates but also the joy of my thoughts of this beautiful month. Well crafted!

  9. The thoughts time will draw from us…beautifully rendered here, I must say. If wisdom comes with years, you display the wisdom and skill of the ages here; strong content fitted to an appropriately smooth form; the silence seems appropriate for this time of year…

  10. Ah! The joys of frozen food! Just kidding!

    But I am a flesheater myself, having been born with canine teeth. But the picture with “Silenced” made me very sympathetic to the plight of the workers on the slaughterhouse line. I have visited such a place that slaughters hogs, and the floor was slippery with blood and the carcasses had to be rapidly eviscerated and scraped clean — singed, even, in the case of hogs. I won’t want their jobs, trying to keep up with that line and wielding hooks and knives. But I happily ate a sausage afterward!

  11. The first rose out of the second,
    like an ash bird from the flame,
    yet it resonates more personally;
    for many of us are seeing our
    fathers, our grandfathers, in the
    mirror, and the body has a 200,000
    miles on it, and the warranties are
    no longer valid. We just have to
    ride it out, Rob, kicking and screaming
    full throttle for that last mile.

  12. These are each exquisite, meditative, a purity in them, even the purity of the dark and the light life is, burning down. I’ve been unavoidably dealing with the same things in my meditative poems inspired by lines from Rilke. Very beautiful, Rob. xxxj

  13. “Endings.” “Death’s due vigil. deep silence…” Exactly my image of winter. Very well imaged for such a bleak description…… hard to pull that off….. The question was how do we abide it? I do it with a snbow shovel, and I freaking hate it!

    “Silenced.” I’m sure the 99% would agree…

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