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Born in Belfast, Northern Ireland, now living in Cheshire, England. I started writing poetry eight years ago, as a hobby. I have enjoyed that new venture very much. My preferences are for long and micro-form poetry styles. A first book of poetry ~ Reason Without Rhyme, was published in December 2013. A second book ~ Fifty Seven Pebbles, was published in September 2015...I am presently compiling the content for my third book. Thank you for visiting my Blog which is regularly updated. COPYRIGHT: The entire copyright and content of this Blog belongs to the author Eileen T O'Neill. Nothing should be copied, reproduced or hosted as per RSS feed by any other party. {This particularly applies to the USA company Feedspot.com} Header Photograph: Ballycastle Beach, County Antrim, Northern Ireland...

Wednesday, 4 June 2014

An Unedifying Silence....



The whimper of a whisper reached the world,
Eventually distress was known, but still forgotten.
Sometimes, that is all we hear in our own silence,
We do not absorb the message we think we read.
The silent village without a means of world volume,
Girls cast aside by enduring threat and suppression.
The imposition of casual opportunity upon innocence,
Actions of vile wickedness defiling the sanctity of life.
The common horror heard in the murmur of a silence,
A happening lost for exposition within its captive state.
As facile as the tightening nooses in the mango grove,
Onlookers collect in a common expectation and ritual.
Respect falters as robes twitch in the evening breeze,
The only voice hangs in the silent spectacle of death itself.

©Copyright Eileen T O’Neill 04/06/2014
Associated with the Prompt at Poets United: Mid-Week Motif: ‘Public Protest.’..
http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/may/31/india-gang-rape-katra-sadatgunj-fathyer-speaks

10 comments:

  1. Oh this is poignant and powerful Eileen. Sometimes we do not hear the faint cries of those in need do we? Either through external "noise" or our own internal noise. Very thought-provoking...

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  2. Protests like this poem serve to amplify "the whimper of a whisper" and "the only voice." I numb to horror, I un-numb to absorb and then write instead of numbing, then numb, etc. This is a powerful poem.

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  3. Oh this is powerful and poignant and at once deep and gripping with such conscientious involvement; with a mind so receptive and fully absorbing the despicable message, breaking the incarcerating silence. The last four lines touched me so deep....Thank you Eileen.

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  4. Eventually distress was known, but still forgotten.
    Sometimes, that is all we hear in our own silence,


    This deserves repeating and being shown widely.
    Well, you probably know better than most.

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  5. Such raw emotions so eloquently expressed..we do seem to turn a blind eye/ear to real distress..hopefully the capacity to protest will never be lost even if their whispers may be

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  6. Powerful, Eileen, especially how the whimper reaches us for a five minute sound-byte then other topics move it to the background and we forget........the nightmare you refer to in your link at the end is still living in the hearts of those involved. Well done.

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  7. And why does our modern age with on the hour coverage fail to speak of this whimper and the lives struggling to be heard?
    A somber beauty in this poem.

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  8. Your poem hit me with a great sadness
    Very powerful poem

    Best wishes, always.

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  9. Eileen, so many tragedies in every day, it is extremely sad, and you captured it all perfectly. That line-- As facile as the tightening nooses in the mango grove, was really powerful

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I appreciate visits to this Blog and any comments left. I shall always endeavour to reciprocate. Thank you, Eileen