Silence

[Lawrence]

People always say that silence is golden-
As if it were some sort of ore.

Could you see us mining it?
Tractors hauling earth by town libraries,
The rhythm of jackhammers about forests,
Astronauts, swinging their picks
In search of the sacred metal.

Who knows-
I might find some nuggets myself.
Perhaps the dead fly on my windowsill
Is hiding a pebble between his wings.

We’d wear jewelry of silence, too-
A blacksmith would whisper over a bar
And watch its melting liquid drip into a ring-

Meaning, we would propose with silence.
I’d spend all of my savings; present my lover
With the stillness of an Alaskan mountain
Crowned by the hush of birch branches.

[heslopian]

This is an exquisitely carved, serene, intelligent, deep and serious poem, spiked with wit in its extended metaphor, and one of the finest verses that I've ever read.

People always say that silence is golden-
As if it were some sort of ore.

Could you see us mining it?
Tractors hauling earth by town libraries,
The rhythm of jackhammers about forests,
Astronauts, swinging their picks on Mars
In search of the scared metal. "Scared metal"? That doesn't sound right to me. Did you mean "sacred"?
And who knows-
I might find some nuggets myself.
Even now I see the fly, dead, on my windowsill
Keeping a pebble between his wings. I love this couplet. The line break is perfectly place, the image unique yet familiar, profoundly and quietly disturbing.

We’d wear rings and bracelets of silence, too.
A blacksmith would whisper over a bar
And watch the melting liquid drip into a circle
Etched in stone, fit for a woman’s finger.

Which means, we would propose with silence.
I’d pay all of my savings, and present you
With the stillness of an Alaskan mountain
Crowned by the hush of birch branches. Gorgeous. Simply gorgeous. Like an elegant pastoral tinged with stranger undertones.

[Lawrence]

Haha. Whoops. Scared. Thanks Hes!

[billy]

People always say that silence is golden- [sometimes instead of always might be more believable]
As if it were some sort of ore. [nice opening couplet that leaves us wondering what comes next]

Could you see us mining it? [no question mark needed as you don't require an answer]
Tractors hauling earth by town libraries, [love this line]
The rhythm of jackhammers about forests, ['about' is right but it doesn't feel right]
Astronauts, swinging their picks [original and solidly good]
In search of the sacred metal. [scarred or sacred]

Who knows-
I might find some nuggets myself.
Perhaps the dead fly on my windowsill
Is hiding a pebble between his wings. [pebble doesn't work so well, maybe some dust]

We’d wear jewelry of silence, too- [jewellery unless thats an american spelling]
A blacksmith would whisper over a bar
And watch its melting liquid drip into a ring- [mixed metaphor blacksmiths don't work gold unless he hammers it and even then he'd be a goldsmith]

Meaning, we would propose with silence.
I’d spend all of my savings; present my lover
With the stillness of an Alaskan mountain
Crowned by the hush of birch branches. [what a great finish]

apart from a couple of nits i think this could be publishable. not heavy, a well worked through idea with lots of great lines. it reads well and sounds good when read aloud. for me it's a definite keeper Lawrence.

thanks for posting it.