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So my silence, so my silence won’t, be mistaken for peace



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Sun Apr 09, 2023 7:11 am
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rida says...



so my Silence won’t be mistaken for Peace



Image




I: letters to mother
i. (i): untitled
ii.(ii): untitled
iii.
iv.
v.

II:
vi.
vii.
viii.
ix.
x.

III:
xi.
xii.
xiii.
xiv.
xv.
Last edited by rida on Mon Apr 10, 2023 5:00 pm, edited 3 times in total.




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47 Reviews


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Reviews: 47
Sun Apr 09, 2023 7:38 am
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rida says...



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I recently found a diary that belonged to my great grandmother, and this series of letters is inspired by what she has written-
Last edited by rida on Sun Apr 09, 2023 8:02 am, edited 2 times in total.




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Sun Apr 09, 2023 7:59 am
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rida says...



.
Last edited by rida on Mon Jul 31, 2023 4:02 pm, edited 1 time in total.




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Mon Apr 10, 2023 3:06 am
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rida says...



ii.



mother, the hyenas
have come.
the wind sinks it’s teeth into
our roof; rot
and decay,
mother:
the hyenas have come
and the wind is tearing our trees,
our groves: mother, mother
do you see the moon
weeping? the stars have
come broken tonight, the wind
is shaking our walls.
mother, you are shouting
over the wind and behind us
the hyenas are cackling. do you see
how the moon weeps? the walls are
coming down, mother: our trees
and our soil, up in the air.
mother, mother:
speak now,
tell me it will be
alright.
will it be
alright?

you are shouting something over the wind. i can see your words, mother: they flicker and float away: up in the air with everything we own and are. mother, behind us the hyenas cackle. the walls come down. i watch the sky bleed, i watch the moon weep. i watch the stars break and suddenly, we are in the open field: the earth solid and firm and bare beneath us. do people in glass houses
know they live delicate lives?




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Tue Apr 11, 2023 5:02 am
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alliyah says...



Spoiler! :
Oh! Love the concept of the inspiration! Especially as someone who personally find a TON of inspiration from thinking about ancestors and their lives, what a fruitful treasure to draw poetry from! :)

The urgency of poem 2 is palpable! Your use of line breaks and repeated phrases is just perfection - and your opening image of: "mother, the hyenas
have come.
the wind sinks it’s teeth into
our roof; rot
and decay,
mother:"

sets up such a strong poem - debating to myself what the hyenas could be a metaphor for, or if they are meant literally - but the final couplet gives some insight. Intriguing and thought-provoking poem throughout. Looking forward to reading more. <3
you should know i am a time traveler &
there is no season as achingly temporary as now
but i have promised to return




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Tue Apr 11, 2023 5:25 am
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phantasm says...



Spoiler! :
ugh you're poetry is STUNNING!! I really love the sense of urgency and vulnerability in #2; the repetition of "mother" is so poetic and heartbreaking. I also absolutely adored this line:
i watch the sky bleed, i watch the moon weep

But there are so many pieces of gold throughout your poems, and I can't wait to read more!

Also, I strongly agree with alliyah - the inspiration drawn from ancestry/generational ties is so strong and leads to a plentiful and vivid array of imagery in your poetry. I love it! <3
she/her




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Tue Apr 11, 2023 4:00 pm
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rida says...



iii.


i.
you tell me things
you do not mean to say:
the storm, the flight,
the flood and the
light.

ii. storm
mother,
in the distance i can always hear
the thunder, i know
that the earth i stand on
is not real. that it is only
you pretending. it is only
me pretending
i believe you.

iii. flood
mother. in the distance
i can always hear the river. i tell you
i am drowning and you pretend
that it is ok. that this is not
the river and the earth,
your silent
promises. pale light, mother,
where the river dances
and the earth quivers.
pale

iv. light
and i say it is not real,
i say i can pretend
that everything is simple: that it
is what you tell me it is. pale
light, and i never talk to you about the earth and the river and the dust, mother, mother: i never tell you about the water and the sky and the light:
pale light:
it breaks our sky
like peasants
break bread: slowly,
then all at once.




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Tue Apr 11, 2023 4:04 pm
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rida says...



Spoiler! :

@alliyah thank youu! <333 I’ve read your poetry inspired by your ancestry and that’s sort of what inspired me to start this theme!!! I’m so glad you liked my second poem, I wasn’t sure if the urgency was coming across well enough or not, and I’m glad to see it was and that you enjoyed my poems!!!

@figmoon I’m so glad you liked my poem! Those lines are my favourite as wellllll spontaneously rhyming in poetry is my favourite thing to do :D thank youuuu <33




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Mon Apr 17, 2023 9:33 am
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Liminality says...



Spoiler! :
Hey rida! Really like these NaPo poems! The word economy in the third poem is super impressive - most of the lines are short but still pack a punch. I particularly like the final image comparing the sky to bread -for me that evoked the texture of dark clouds being shone upon by light in a unique way. There's this mood of desperation as the speaker repeatedly addresses their mother. I also appreciate how you incorporated some subtle rhyming there, with mother/thunder, flight/light etc.
she/her

.
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Tue Apr 25, 2023 4:50 am
Mira23 says...



I enjoyed it very much, especially part III
word hurdle




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Sat Apr 29, 2023 7:50 pm
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Euphory says...



Spoiler! :
rida, your poetry is just VIOLENTLY beautiful - i mean, in the first poem, your comparison of henna with blood by the end just BLEW my mind straight off (every time I see my own henna stained hands now, I think of your poem and it just. gives me goosebumps omg)
'People in glass houses cannot throw stones' is SUCH a provocative metaphor with so many different interpretations to draw on, and the entire poem itself is so very complex and layered and odkeodokekedmn I can only ASPIRE to write as well as you ahhhhh!
your napo thead is a blessing to the site <333
Viola Tricolor also known as wild pansy, Johnny Jump up, heartsease, heart's ease, heart's delight, tickle-my-fancy, Jack-jump-up-and-kiss-me, come-and-cuddle-me, three faces in a hood, love-in-idleness, and pink of my john-







There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside of you.
— Maya Angelou