Day 7: Somethin' Better Than Silence

Photo courtesy:  Greg Annandale via Flickr

I opened my Writing.Com account 4 years ago, on April 7th, 2009 which makes today my very own WDC Account/ my blogging debut Anniversary.

This is for WDC, the greatest online writing community and for all those years of doubts and tests.

The entrance of poetry

Is as smooth as the feel of silk.

Pumping verve into the system like blood from the artery;

Lubricating the lungs like a mugful of milk

Words in full blossom bounce off the throat’s walls in a lilt

And feed passion into the bed of the soul patching it like quilt.

There is a substance far more cherished than silence

And the reason is simply ‘cause it’s the nitty-gritty of it.

The throb of the heart accelerates in deference

As the words fall to the core and splatter into immortal nuance.

The chirping of crickets is magnified;

You can almost hear the chimes as the wind strums blades of grass.

There’s music in the silence of stars in the night sky.

As emotion is amped up it becomes a compass;

The beauty in the wretched and despicable lay bare.

The imagery of a worm as it burrows thro sloughy soil will oil your gears.

Poetry is the music of silence,

The symphony of muted moments,

Poetry adds the magic into the special instance.

It is the vibe in the spine of a hush.

Verse is the swing in the wing of a tranquil plush.

There’s a lilt in every still,

And a mystical lyric in every serene,

There is a jaunty rhythm in every peace,

And this rhetoric is the sum of poetry.

Yes, that is poetry.

The universe surrenders itself

To be explored, drilled, and thoroughly harnessed.

All things bright, beautiful, and wonderfully deft

Spill out in unique colors, exquisitely dressed.

Poetry’s rainbow does not merely promise the pot of gold,

It delivers on that promise on the sound of drum rolls.

Good poetry is a river of peace flowing down.

The haunting sensation is finely tuned as cadence is found.

What is better than silence?

Allow me to introduce you to poetry.

It is the beauty when sound takes a leave of absence;

It is the muse that makes quietness part of his appeal.

This is the single attribute greater than silence;

The concise explanation of the spiritual property,

The lone article from where silence derives its competence.

Poetry gives soundlessness its precedence.

Life is poetry. Fluid and satin, sweet and full of adventure.

Stanzas cut like rusty razor blades. It goes right to the core.

It’s like the mapping of an enchanting itinerary,

Poetry can make you cry, laugh, mad. It can be quite a trip.

And ‘he who casts to write a living line must sweat.’

Poetry is the language of the world’s peoples, every man/woman’s dialect.

It’s the breath of Mother Nature; her vital quintessence.

Speech is silvern, silence is golden, but poetry is diamond.

This is the pathway into the heart of Divinity’s Presence.

Each phrase coated with meaning nudges you onward.

And I’d rather have poetry than silence;

I’d rather be versed in stillness and recline

Than possess all the peace void of poetic license;

I’d gladly give up all the calm in the world for one solitary line

From a verse of poetry and ride the wave of its stirring,

The lyric in peacefulness that serves all yearning.

Silence is poetic and that makes it instructive.

Now, there’s something better than silence, ain’t it?

Anyone who had a heart could feel the pulse in placidity,

Experience the release of tension when the lyric of repose busts in.

One thing’s better than silence.

Only one and it is the voice of silence; it’s perfection.

Poetry is silence maximized and enhanced;

Pure untainted silence is the soul’s percussion.

Silence can be that and more when touched by poetry.

Cause the latter and the former have the right interpersonal chemistry.

Each line like gas torches has a knack for sparking a flare,

That’s what poetry is; the lunar sullen stare and, the solar fiery glare.

Poetry is nature’s definitive oratory in its purest form.

It’s the counsel of troubled souls; focus of the reflective mind.

The harbinger of radiance and mystery reborn.

This is the language of paradise;

The speech of silence and decibel of serenity.

Poetry is the measure of the caliber of tranquility.

There is poetry in every quiet and as explosive as napalm.

An unmeasured tempo resides in every state of calm.

Akpan