Silence knows you


Stay awake, well planted on your feet

Be present there, where you are

Look around you

Without putting a name, a state, a speech,

On what you perceive, nearby and in the neighborhood,

See light, shapes, people, colors

Removes error, judgments, odors,

Everything has a taste, and carries a rhyme

Meaning the presence that animates them

Even the object that seems useless


Everything has its interest

Everything has been created

In life, in love or pain

And even if you approach one day

Something that resembles conflicts

Who weighs you, who is heavy

Listen, sense the energy that flows

Even if you can not see it

And that seems ridiculous

Try a little bit


Do you really dive in?

In this strange, this ocean

Who pushes you forward

See what is hidden in detours

This might sound like a desire

A desire for life

Even in the confines of suffering,

The silence knows you

It is not very far from you

You will hear his voice

If you stop a little

Maybe you could see him,

Can be with your eyes

Then you will stay there, well planted on your feet

Look at him.

  • When I took my pen in hand, I had no idea of what to write about. But, I feel like writing something. So, I stayed silent for an hour and a half ruminating. Suddenly, I came with this imagination seeing myself talking to Mr. Silent. He stayed silent as if he knows every words I was going to say. We did not talk at all but we had a really great conversation, I learned from him that by ruminating we permit ourselves to be more open to things and also it is not what you see that count but what you perceive . Nowadays, the majority are people who like/dislike the title of the book without reading it. My poem has also a psychology meaning lol do not worry ”I’m not trying to get into your mind”. Allow silence to do that, trust me he will not say a word. He knows what privacy means, your secret will be safe with him. He is a genius dumb, who uses telepathy to communicate. He and I are good friends now. He gives me ideas, I write it down. 

ADAMA KONATE 

The vision of a thinker

The president has fallen, I wonder? 

The earth has become a village

The news spreads in a single click

The life of the president became a film.

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye superficial ornament

Disappears under the crackles 

Indiscreet lights and feathers.

They deliver us through the body

Impact and corruptible from the womb

The primitive animal impulses 

Revealing another facet of the President.

Despairing and degrading spectacle 

Of a false image fashioned Into the crowned lie

The court of the president vomits his hypocrisy.

Like a propitiatory victim 

The president is led to purgatory

 Does he call for help in humility, so that his soul may leave the dust? 

From the four corners of the earth 

Flock victims humiliated and flouted Scandal insult in the face of the president adorned with contempt the chef takes place.

Illusionists and conjurers enter the track to do justice like a play known beforehand 

What happened in this room?

I watched the president appreciate his victory.

 A question crossed my mind 

Since the real victims are elsewhere. 

Is not the president’s wife the most to be pitied? 

Behold the affliction of the sons of righteousness. 

It is greater the affliction that affects the daughters of the republic. 

Proud governor, you have endangered your dwelling because you have chosen the devil’s share.


• Last night, I stayed awake writing this poem. Recent events makes me cogitate a lot.

”To the Freedom of Speech.”


 ADAMA KONATE