The Monologue of Silvia.

 

A monologue on creativity, survival, and human resilience.

Regarding the sacred role of the writer, but also a personal call to every reader to:

Keep feeling,

Keep expressing,

And above all, keep living.

It's a conversation between you and an unseen, voice.

A guide, a visionary, and an emotional conduit for others. 

Spoken in a lyrical, free-form style, addressing both the creative responsibility and the transformative power of writing.

Salute 

Title.

The Monologue of Silvia. 

(A lone voice whispers)

As writers, are we all but seducers of the minds of others

We simply silently kiss in friendship 

As they read one of our poetic gifts?

Do we, as creators, create emotional bridges

That needs to be crossed like visionaries, like Robert Frost

For the readers to follow our trail of black fonts

Into the sometimes light or creepy darkness 

We sometimes compel them to visit, when we lead them into a new wilderness 

A wilderness filled with roaming abstracts of inspirational strengths, or themes of spiritual weaknesses 

Some may feel compelled to call us charlatans

New reborn Kings and Queens of somewhere truly unknown or cosmopolitan

Seducers of fragile minds which try to hold us upright 

As just winners and sinners 

Spiritual bringers of emotional victories and tragedies

Using poetry as liquid oxygen as our Seal of Solomon 

Like a reborn scholar for the tolerant 

But at the core, our sermons can also simply be this

Do more

Live for any form of happiness and find and treasure a loving muse

Paint touching visceral pictures through stories

Using music or poetry as your lyre and put them to good use

Never lament old age as it tries to freeze your youthful body

Once so beautiful and lithe

So in ending

In long days when your weary heart seems heavy, and you lose hope and feel all emotions

Linked to love or compassion has suddenly died

Look towards tomorrow's new eyes, and be lifted up in Dawn’s rose-flushed arms 

And find a way to 

Others and yourself, to

forgive, even if you've cried

Then stand back and look into life’s deep mirrors, and always remember

You have so much more to still give, unlike those who poor souls, who have suddenly died

And embrace this thought denied to so many that now beseech their God, to forgive the sad things, they once did 

When they lived

Some slowly, some suddenly, as you read this

You still have one of life's greatest gifts

Be proud to still be alive because so much good can still happe

A monologue on creativity, survival, and human resilience.

Regarding the sacred role of the writer, but also a personal call to every reader to:

Keep feeling,

Keep expressing,

And above all, keep living.

It's a conversation between you and an unseen, voice.

A guide, a visionary, and an emotional conduit for others. 

Spoken in a lyrical, free-form style, addressing both the creative responsibility and the transformative power of writing.

Salute 

Title.

The Monologue of Silvia. 

(A lone voice whispers)

As writers, are we all but seducers of the minds of others

We simply silently kiss in friendship 

As they read one of our poetic gifts?

Do we, as creators, create emotional bridges

That needs to be crossed like visionaries, like Robert Frost

For the readers to follow our trail of black fonts

Into the sometimes light or creepy darkness 

We sometimes compel them to visit, when we lead them into a new wilderness 

A wilderness filled with roaming abstracts of inspirational strengths, or themes of spiritual weaknesses 

Some may feel compelled to call us charlatans

New reborn Kings and Queens of somewhere truly unknown or cosmopolitan

Seducers of fragile minds which try to hold us upright 

As just winners and sinners 

Spiritual bringers of emotional victories and tragedies

Using poetry as liquid oxygen as our Seal of Solomon 

Like a reborn scholar for the tolerant 

But at the core, our sermons can also simply be this

Do more

Live for any form of happiness and find and treasure a loving muse

Paint touching visceral pictures through stories

Using music or poetry as your lyre and put them to good use

Never lament old age as it tries to freeze your youthful body

Once so beautiful and lithe

So in ending

In long days when your weary heart seems heavy, and you lose hope and feel all emotions

Linked to love or compassion has suddenly died

Look towards tomorrow's new eyes, and be lifted up in Dawn’s rose-flushed arms 

And find a way to 

Others and yourself, to

forgive, even if you've cried

Then stand back and look into life’s deep mirrors, and always remember

You have so much more to still give, unlike those who poor souls, who have suddenly died

And embrace this thought denied to so many that now beseech their God, to forgive the sad things, they once did 

When they lived

Some slowly, some suddenly, as you read this

You still have one of life's greatest gifts

Be proud to still be alive because so much good can still happen

Because you still live

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Image shared under fair usage policy.

n

Because you still live

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Image shared under fair usage policy.