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 

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“THE WISE WOMAN”

Today Lord, 

I learned that you love another woman,And I come, desperate, to bid you farewell.

 One last time,

Pour the same wine into our two cups.

One last time, sing the song

Which speaks of a dead bird under the snow.

Then I will embark on the Hudson River

Whose waters divide

To flow east and west.

Why do you cry, Belle. Who hurt you?

You may marry a man with a faithful heart,

A man who will repeat to you sincerely:

“I only have eyes for you…”


ADAMA KONATE