The thin line of silence and love

By Danny Antobelly

Many poets refer to the silence of poetry, a silence that is difficult to resolve if it is metaphorical or coming from the saying. Is it a silence before or after the word or, in the final analysis, a profane and audible silence?

And in love, how should we interpret the screams of thunderous silence? What is it that leads us to innocuous and meaningless guesswork?

The silence and, entering a more philosophical field, could be prosecuted as discernment, autonomy and care of the word. Silence can cover up the words we decide to pronounce or load them with weight and value. But, in addition, for those who want to listen to that silence, they could find the perfect decoration for phrases pronounced with a halo of magic.

Silence, love and poetry

“The impotence of those who, due to the inability to embrace beauty,

just limit themselves to watch how it unravels between its fingers.

Love cataloged as redeeming

is the worst of tyrants

hiding the claws inside the heart, sharpening the tongue inside the wound.

It is the one in charge of writing these letters that bleed

and that want to become silent to take revenge on you,

who I invented with words”.

Catharsis.

Why do we believe we have the moral authority to want to break the chains of silence? Who has even dared to think that his blindness is the only way to express true feelings?

Silence in poetry could have many meanings and interpretations, are they rhetorical or loquacious? Those silences to which we will not be able to abstract ourselves from the very limits that poetry offers us, which remain hidden beyond where they can no longer reach.

That silence of the poems frames us a sovereign moment of the unspeakable.

Are those silences that love, those that shout, those that say; those who want to come out in an antagonistic representation of what is verbalized. The silences that embrace, protect and endure.

A unique way to love

One of the greatest attractions of the human being is found in its authenticity; it is that which differentiates us from each other, which makes us unique individuals.

Each person could express all their feelings in different ways. This is what leads us to, with heartbreaking screams or the saddest sobs, we can transmit our emotions, joys, happiness, anger and hardship. Nothing says it’s better or worse.

If the materialization of silence existed, we could realize that we would find endless possibilities of them: Those that are representable, those that occur after the ellipses, or the immaterial ones, when the reading of some read poems is finished, which is closed. with an enveloping silence.

The range of “silences” is unsuspected, where we can be faced with silences of different volumes.

Since ancient times, there is a conversation about the difference between the silence of the soul and the silence of the mouth. This is how in the monasteries and cloisters dared to contemplate the “verbal oppressed” as if they were strange subjects who were isolated from the world of the living.

While poetry is the other responsible for manifesting with precious decorum in the most harmonious sonatas of silence: Cared for and with a unique shine.

Silence in love could be the catharsis of misery, the anger of what can never be stated, and even the gag of love that has come, has hurt us and gone without letting us defend.

When the silences mark the times of a painful end

“We will say goodbye and it will be winter, pain will be tattooed on the windows, misfortunes will rain in torrents, we will leave honey in hell.

The tales of the eternal will end, we will forget what it is to feel dual, we will return to such cordial excuses

and I will erase your name from my notebook.

My haggard appearance will remain with the wind hitting the lapel

and my dreams at the bottom of this well.

I will tear my paper, my bread, my map, and only the painful sonnet of life that escapes will remain of me”.

Sonnet of the life that escapes

The love that is diluted and draining like blood between fingers that have been mutilated by the knives of passion, is a silence that is not heard, that flees, that escapes us.

Those silences only keep a deep melancholy, but behind there is a powerful tedium. The silence of the non-event, of that which soaks and tries to water it but ends up drowning it.

Those love silences that nothing builds and nothing breaks because the word has already cast its spell. They just seem to be there, waiting for a bit of air light; because there is no life without words; as it does not exist without silences.

These are the silences that mark the sonnet of another romance, another life that escapes us.

Poetry could offer us the most charming silences to mask the nobility of a failed love, of the fateful moment of the impertinent.

It is that silences are also multiple in poetry, yes, as well as in love. Silences are surrounded by words or perhaps words are embraced by silence. That is why we are faced with the need to whiten each of the verses that we will issue, that allows that framework of silence to envelop them, since without that background they would be single words that travel meaninglessly over the ether of the unconnected.

Not even making a correct use of the chains of orality would almost mortally wound those silences that will leave exposed along with the links that link them with words.

Poetry and the thin layer of silence and love

“It all started

in a flash of tenderness

lighting up the horizon

We had no other boat than the desire and the ocean was a mouth

full of mysteries.
The desire…
That blessed lighthouse

shipwreck Attorney,

composer in the sirens throat, he took us from one bed to another,

from one window to another,

from one utopia to another.
We were brave,

foolhardy.
We try to be the home that does not go out,

the same one that the sibyl told us about in Págasas.

But love

makes fun of safe harbors and you didn’t know

of Penelope’s tissues

and i missed my armor”.

Argonauts.

Poetry is the result of a song that is made visible through oratory, the word. These then are the meaning of the synergy of feelings and thoughts.

The poet magic is in bringing to the universal language what only he can translate. However, that saying is representative of all mortals, those words and their silences take a rapacious flight, until reaching the universality of prose.

Poetry, love and silences come to life when they manage to pierce the depths of the sincerity of whoever is listening. So, we can assert that poetry is one of the modes of our speech, however, it should not be overlooked that our speech is preceded by the most respectable and admirable attitude of every human being: Our silences.

Love could be polished in silence; poetry is more beautiful when silences are well conjugated with speech. There is a thin layer that separates silence from love; silence is not the representation of the non-existence of feelings and much less of thoughts.

Silence is a sign of love, of admiration of contemplation; it is that same silence that we can pronounce when we admire a work in the Louvre museum.

Silence is also the pain of an oak drawer that closes, taking with it the nostalgia of a failed love, of another duel that is coming, or of the tears that will flow down the cheeks..

The silence of words can say much more than the empty words that reverberate tumultuously in a cold room full of feelings and pain.

¿Can we live without silence?

The search for the senses has always been one of the stalkers of silence. That is why silence does not have a single acceptance, it has several meanings: Silences that are deafening, eloquent silences, silences that are understandable and clear, those that are usually worth more than a thousand words.

Silences are not simple lightning that illuminates the void, it is the way of saying those words that need to be underlined, it is the suffering of reflection, it is that moment of love that we cannot describe that can only be heard with the ears that meet ready to hear them.

Silence is part of poetry; poetry is part of abstract feelings that manage to infer in words the metaphorical beauties of love.

Love and silence are usually separated by a thin line that very few can see.