I have a longstanding obsession with silence. Perhaps it’s not that longstanding. I became aware of silence in graduate school. I began to focus on how a poet’s lines interacted with the white space and the silence. It became – and still is – a point of consideration in my own work.
When I think about the poets who have most affected me when it comes to silence, I have a varied list. Vasko Popa falls onto it as does Paul Celan. Emily Dickinson is a must. C.K. Williams sometimes finds himself on it. All those poets interact with silence and white space in different ways.
Williams is known for longer lines that seem to blend into or converse with the silence.
“Narcissism”
…The word alone sizzles like boiling acid, moans like molten lead,
but ah my dear, it leaves the lips in such a sweetly murmuring hum.
Dickinson’s work has more tension, often because of her well-known dash. The thought begun is cut off, which may be done because silence is the only appropriate response or because the speaker refuses to say some words aloud.
from “Because I Could not Stop for Death”
Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.
Celan’s work is even more tense; words and language itself shatter in his world. Silence becomes a force against which words break and sometimes reform.
from “Anabasis”
There.
Syllable-
mole, sea-
coloured, far out
into the unnavigated.
Popa is an entity unto himself. His lines are visceral. They fight with the silence. They rage against it.
from “Give Me Back My Rags”
Don’t fool with me freak
You hid a knife under your scarf
Stepped over the line tripped me up
You spoiled the game
What I love about all these poets is how they interact differently with silence. They do not follow a prescribed method. The interaction sometimes is a conversation; other times, it’s an argument. It all plays out on the page, and the reader is left to ponder how words are enriched or undercut by the pause, the silence.
Image: Joel Jefferies (CC BY NC 2.0)