Hi the cool @hive friends. This time I will fulfill the theme of the “Blockchain Poets” community leader at @hive, @hive-161465, which is “This week's prompt is: Isolation”.
Isolation, to me, is a terrible term. In the 2000s, we in Aceh, Sumatra, Indonesia experienced isolation. Mass strike, roads closed. After the road was opened, occasional checks were carried out at various places on the road. We had difficulty going anywhere in Aceh. We also have difficulty getting in and out of Aceh. It's a problem we want it to never happen again.
It seems that people who are in a war zone, or if there is no war in the country, then people who are in prison understand the meaning of isolation very well. They are exiled, humiliated, oppressed, sometimes they are not even considered human, considered the world's trash.
However, there is something unique in our earthly civilization. Although there are people who cry against war wholeheartedly, at the same time, there are people who are preparing for war with more advanced weapons. Destruction and protection come together. And among that there will be many people who are alienated, suffering, isolated and other human beings in their outer environment.
What About Personality, Introvert, Extrovert or Ambivert
For me, having an introverted or extroverted personality is a natural thing, and it can be alternated, that is, I have both personalities so that I become a third person, namely an ambivert.
If you want to know about isolation, about solitude, it would be nice to read "One Hundred Years of Solitude", Novel by Gabriel García Márquez, or read "The God of Small Things", novel by Arundhati Roy.
Since this is a poet's room, let's write poetry, something that we Blockchain poets here are very happy about.
The Poet's Silence
Silence and alienation for the poet
is the voice of his heart that always speaks
never stop
even in his sleep
the poet's inner voice still speaks
be a dream
Poets never feel lonely
there are always friends
that is, he is in himself
At the same time
the poet is always isolated in the world outside himself
he always felt like he never understood
and he alwaye tries to understand whatever is around him
Oh, how strange the life of poets is
He's a man who lived in the wrong era
in the wrong place
only he alone is the right place
however, that place was only for him
can never be visited by others
even by his beloved lover
no one will understand the poet
as himself
O, how lonely the poets live
how he was always silent
eternal silence
silence will be enlivened by other poets
good poetry can be understood by anyone
however, the poet's heart can only be understood by the poet.
Thank you
January 7, 2023
Kind regards
Thayeb Loh Angen
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Top Photo: A little girl leaning at the gate of a coffee shop. She brings her snacks, stopping near the food and baby table. She was amazed to see food on a black table and a baby sitting in a high chair surrounded by his mother and father.
She stopped for almost an hour just staring. Nobody cares there. Nor did she care what those people did. She only cares about the food on the table and the baby in the high chair.
It seemed that the little girl was alone in the crowd. She's alone. While the baby was with his parents.
Bottom Photo: Banyan tree in the middle of a busy intersection roundabout, Lueng Bata, Banda Aceh. The tree was alone for hundreds of years. Nobody touched it, while thousands of people passed around it every day.
The two photos can be a metaphor, how the poet also feels lonely in the middle of a crowd..
Photo by @thayeblohangen.
For @hive-161465
This truly spoke to me. A poet's loneliness is different. In being alone, we see more, hear more, feel more. As a matter of fact, it is that loneliness that makes a poet's art beautiful.
That's right @cloflo. What people perceive as loneliness, is beauty to us, poets.
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Some thoughts on your post, and thank you
There's a study that concluded that only 20% of people have an inner monologue. Something you describe in your poem (which I very much enjoyed).
'good poetry can be understood by anyone
however, the poet's heart can only be understood by the poet.' Yes we deal in language and that is (for the most part) universal, where-as the truth, as poets see it, is more in the abstract, in our inner monologue.
Feeling like we are living in the wrong era, I have that daily. Poets tend to meditate on thoughts/feelings where-as our world is an instant gratification merry-go-round of digital moments. This leaves us poets at the side-lines looking on at the people playing their games and trying to win. When we know (and we know) that there's nothing to win and to not play those games is where true peace lives.
Stunning, indeed, @thecreativecasa. We have an inner voice that is our own best friend.
When we observe people, and we know answers to their behavior, which are sometimes not known to others, we realize that something hidden has been revealed to us poets.
I am glad you read the poem. I am happy to have poet friends from other parts of the world. Thank you very much.