z

Young Writers Society


E - Everyone

Still

by Monsters


In the silence of my home, walls echo memories,
Their whispers morph into a symphony of solitude,
Each room, an unmapped constellation - my personal universe,
An orbit of moments, frozen in the architecture of time.

The sun's rays flirt with the windowpane,
Scribing sonnets of light onto the aging wooden floor,
An unspoken dialogue between the universe outside and my thoughts within,
Each beam, a silent storyteller, weaving narratives of solitude and shadow.

My gaze, a drifter, sails the sea of the familiar, yet alien room,
Pausing at the sofa, bearing impressions of laughter and shared whispers,
Then to the empty chair, now a monument of conversations past,
Its silence, a symphony, resounding in the theatre of my solitude.

The fireplace, once ablaze, now slumbers, dreaming of past winters,
Charred logs, like silent poets, narrate tales of warmth and connection,
An abstract dance of shadow and light, each flicker composing an unsung sonnet,
A testament of time, a spectacle of solitude etched in the ashes.

The ticking clock, a loyal companion, hums the rhythm of passing time,
Its hands, balletic in their perpetual dance, mirroring the beat of my pulse,
Each tick-tock, an echo reverberating in the cathedral of my solitude,
Punctuating the silence, painting portraits of solitude in the canvas of time.

In the embrace of these walls, I am but an island of existence,
A lone observer in the gallery of time, admiring the artistry of solitude,
Each moment, a masterpiece, beautifully choreographed in the ballet of silence,
My home, a sanctuary, where solitude and I engage in a dialogue, an intricate waltz.

Here, I am alone, yet not lonely, as I coexist with the shadow and silence,
My soul sipping the solitude, tasting the myriad flavors of my existence,
A composition of whispers, shadows, and echoes, in this symphony of solitude,
In the stillness of my home, I find not isolation, but an intimate conversation with the self.


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22 Reviews


Points: 68
Reviews: 22

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Mon Jul 10, 2023 6:18 am
epotts1 says...



"In the silence of my home, walls echo memories,
Their whispers morph into a symphony of solitude,
Each room, an unmapped constellation - my personal universe,
An orbit of moments, frozen in the architecture of time." i love this...as an extreme introvert this is my safe solitary place. You described it just how i see it. "The sun's rays flirt with the windowpane, " I love the language you used her. Phenomenal!
"Its silence, a symphony, resounding in the theatre of my solitude." here explains how silence is in and of itself a noise nicely done :). "The fireplace, once ablaze, now slumbers, dreaming of past winters,
Charred logs, like silent poets, narrate tales of warmth and connection,
An abstract dance of shadow and light, each flicker composing an unsung sonnet,
A testament of time, a spectacle of solitude etched in the ashes." I loved everything about this stanza; the wording, the rhythm, the imagery...amazing.
"Here, I am alone, yet not lonely, as I coexist with the shadow and silence,
My soul sipping the solitude, tasting the myriad flavors of my existence,
A composition of whispers, shadows, and echoes, in this symphony of solitude,
In the stillness of my home, I find not isolation, but an intimate conversation with the self." this is a perfect conclusion saying you are content with the silence, in fact welcome it, that it is part of how you see and understand yourself. How you reset...i've never heard how I am expressed so fully in a poem than yours!




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Points: 42
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Tue May 23, 2023 7:09 pm
emilia9ludenberg wrote a review...



Okay, wow- seriously by far one of the best poems I have ever read. I love it so much it definitely puts even what I consider (ish) to be one of my best poems to shame- not that this some negative review, though- on the contrary, some of the delicate use of language used here I believe to be strongly useful to include/take inspiration for my own writing (and perhaps to shorten it too- I don't believe many people are going to read 3-4 pages of a poem). The elegant imagery when comparing the clock to ballet almost seems to signify not only its antiquated charm but also a sense of monotony, with the line "their perpetual dance" and along with the recurring theme of solitude, I believe this is also prevalent throughout the poem. Absolutely keep writing- I don't think there is anything I would change, personally- it has a nice song feel.




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221 Reviews


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Tue May 23, 2023 12:32 pm
AkuRashomon wrote a review...



Hello there! This is Ina a.k.a loveissourgrapes and I am here to give you a review/comment about your work here. I see everybody recently has been writing novel chapters and poems. Keep it up eveyone! Anyways, let's get into this poem right here that caught my eye in the green room.

I love how I see imagine and see all the things described in here and jow rich it feels like, like what the first reviewer said. It's just so good, it's like I am reading a poem from those poem compilation books. I think this should be published on a book itself. Keep it up and keep writing more like this! Have a good day/night everyone!




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Sun May 21, 2023 12:47 pm
alpacaboss wrote a review...



The poem paints such rich, imaginative and vivid images in my mind. I applaud you for doing that. It's not easy and you've done it well here. It describes a strange feeling of being in a familiar yet unfamiliar world. Reading the poem, I could say that I have had the same experience (probably too many times) when I become lost in my thoughts and my head is half awake. The dreamy surreal descriptions were wonderfully woven together in this poem, telling of something real yet wonderful at the same time. One thing I appreciate is how you gave life to the seemingly mundane in your poem. From describing the loyalty of a ticking clock to the sun's rays flirting with the sun, you made ordinary objects seem magical. Honestly, I could say that this poem gave me some ideas on how to improve my own writing for which I thank you. Overall, beautifully done and great job!





There is hopeful symbolism in the fact that flags do not wave in a vacuum.
— Arthur C. Clarke