I reconnected with a couple of poems about talk yesterday, One was written in the early eleventh century by Christian Monk Symeon thg New Theologian. It said that talk is the overflow of potent silence and must come forth whether we will or no though we sound like babbling fools. The other poem is this:
You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts;
And when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime.
And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered.
For thought is a bird of space, that in a cage of words many indeed unfold its wings but cannot fly.
There are those among you who seek the talkative through fear of being alone.
The silence of aloneness reveals to their eyes their naked selves and they would escape.
And there are those who talk, and without knowledge or forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand.
And there are those who have the truth within them, but they tell it not in words.
In the bosom of such as these the spirit dwells in rhythmic silence.
When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the market place, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue.
Let the voice within your voice speak to the ear of his ear;
For his soul will keep the truth of your heart as the taste of the wine is remembered
When the color is forgotten and the vessel is no more.Talking - Kahlil Gibran Poems
ymeon's poem is very different and i will post it tomorrow. And the two men were very different Christian poets. Kahlil seems to have been born to write poetry and he wrote the above words before he was forty. His exile was voluntary but Lebanon was always in his heart. His life and living were built on words yet he is unkind to them.
Talk is a symptom of mental disturbance
Talk is a distraction and a pastime
Talk half kills thought
People talk when they can't stand being alone with themselves.
Truth cam be better told without words
Silence is the well from which any nurturing speech is drawn.
But some talk is good.
That which arises from the spirit withing you and is directed by that spirit.
That which comes from the voice within your voice addressed to the listener's inner ear.
That which blurts unbidden from a speaker who is unaware of the truth he or she harbors.
The poem reminds me that talk is cheap and that much of it is truthless, pointless, unkind and "thoughtless,"
Yet one never knows when something said might be of value,