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Break My Silence With Your Sound

Fill my silence with the
sound and colour of you.

Does removing the mystery
eradicate ones power to allure?
Do we then lose our power
if we are open?
If we do lose our power is
that a bad thing if our heart is true to self?

Above all is not truth to self
the highest reward?
Is not peace in heart a fine exchange
for the loss of mystery?
Could one ever be confident enough
to be completely free of inhibition?
To go only to our own soul for self esteem
and not rely on the validation of others.

Is silence and emptiness such a trauma
that we must fill every second with distraction?
Here is some silence

Do we feel the need to fill it?
Silence makes us face our vulnerability
fragility…our awkwardness.
Not knowing makes us fumble & stumble & grumble
our way to ecstasy.

Silence is a seduction…it pulls us towards her…
But silence is also the saddist who tortures
our mind by not knowing.
Silence can hurt.
Silence can heal.
Silence can be misread.
Silence the space of not knowing.

Silence fills the space of where I would rather kiss you.
Silence is the draw card, the pull
Silence fills the gap so that the imagination
can soar and fill the missing jigsaw of
unanswered questions.

I have always been in love with mystery.
The secret of…that which is hidden beneath
the surface…but I have realised
that after the initial attraction, mystery
needs to be transformed into knowing so
that the mind does not erode the connection.

A blatant, uninhibited shout of imperfect delight
A touch of continual pleasure that
rips my soul open and makes my heart enlarge
with raw excitement…when one moves beyond
mystery to longing for untamed freedom…to
reveal, to expose, to be free…
Ah to dance…keep it light…keep it real…
Shall we dance my darling? Shall we?

Anthea Slade 25 June 2009

© Anthea Slade 2009

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Break My Silence With Your Sound by 

This is the second poem I wrote in the very early hours of 25 June 2009

Creating art and writing is like breathing to me, it keeps me alive. If I stop creating my world shrinks and contracts. When I start to create again it expands and is filled with colour. I feel whole. To create is to be completely, unabashedly alive.

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  • Del Millar
    Del Millarover 5 years ago

    Bravo Anthea, this is magnificent, utterly honest
    beautiful and appealing,
    you speak what should be heard,
    in all reality,
    mystery is enduring in
    the raw true state of love, which
    contains no pretences.
    It sits easily.

    Beautiful natural you, this is a masterpiece.

  • Leon A.  Walker
    Leon A. Walkerover 5 years ago

    This is a wonderful piece of writing!!!!!

  • Erika .
    Erika .over 5 years ago

    ah yes, let’s dance! Anthea, I’m in awe of this piece. You have expressed all the beauty of silence here. I love this. x

  • oneperfectkiss
    oneperfectkissover 5 years ago

    ah Anthea this is absolutely beautiful and deeply touching. Hugging you. X

  • bev langby
    bev langbyover 5 years ago

    Its truly wonderful Anthea

  • Vasile Stan
    Vasile Stanover 5 years ago

    Shall we?” The answer rests with you and only you… or so it seems.
    Silence fills the space of where I would rather kiss you”… wow, just wow! Out of silence, wonderful things may surface, although unknown at the time of questioning oneself, doubting everything and believing everything with a dark face. I would say, in our moments of silence and dark, we need to look in the direction of that light, however faint it may appear to our untrained mind’s eye. This amazing poetry of yours seems to be created in that very moment of silence.
    Achingly beautiful poetry, as you would usually say. Beautifully aching, when looked from the inside out.

  • lacewren
    lacewrenover 5 years ago

    No Mystery…some think we’ve conquered by questioning, others sigh a longing for enchantment.We rarely possess silence, confusing quiet outside for emptiness, so we fill that with our invented doubts. Unrequited love is usually unrequired love, our longings confused, when unnoticed fulfillment flies up around us like startled birds whose corporeal abstract symphony reminds us of lovers’ weeping. But in silence, through grace or hard won wisdom, we can feel a power, to reveal and be revealed, as you show here, and waking and dreaming lose an artificial difference. Atonement is a transaction, a debt paying, but at-one-meant is a birthing, a joining like partners in life’s dance. Dance the dream awake, the true rhythm revealed in silence. May I cut in? Might even risk a kiss across the floor.

  • JonoCarrick
    JonoCarrickover 5 years ago

    Anthea your words dance from my monitor into my heart and mind. You are so truly talented. Gorgeous and wise poetry.

    KEITH R. WILL...over 5 years ago


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