When Silent Love met with Boasting Vanity


A long time ago
I got used to living with
My open wounds,
The last withered while
I was staring at the sunset
In the middle of the fog.

Yes, you told me so many times
About your suffering,
How your heart shrunk
Fisted in bleeding red
While your eyes tasted
The salt of the ocean waves
And cristal pearls were running
Down your cheeks.

On that plane you felt
The freezing coldness
Where just one thing 
Would not freeze:
The fountain of your tears.

Yes, indeed I remember
All the pain on that plane.
You sent me back to the
Land of rejection.

Yet I am a resilient rock
With my withered wounds
That I carry since ancient times
On this eroded earth.

But to exist is to resist
And so I dwell in human hearts
Who care for each other.
And may I receive your boasting waves
Crashing on my shores
Those hearts will restore me again
For I am silent love and not vain.


© October 2018 Marta Pombo Sallés

(view original post here)

42 thoughts on “When Silent Love met with Boasting Vanity

  1. Get rid of first 4 lines and whole 4th stanza and you have the heart of the poem. The first 4 lines are merely poet’s way of trying to find a footing, solid ground to begin poem, so now they are not needed. Nice poem by the way. When you get to the heart of it, there’s much depth of thought and imagery.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you for your advice, Donald. No doubt I will give it a thought. I remember you already suggested further changes in two poems of mine. I do appreciate your critique because it is not destructive, but honest and meant for poetic improvement, where I am just an absolutely amateur person attempting to write poems in English, my third language. You are all great writers and faithful followers, actually very encouraging people. I still have your previous feedback for improvement in mind plus this new one. However, I will not change this post now. My idea would be to post a new version of this poem and of the other two later on with your suggestions and, obviously, referencing you. I think this is a fair thing to everyone, to me, to you and to the rest of the blog followers. How do you like this idea?

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I don’t have a third language, just two, so I am in awe of your writing. I have tutored many ESL people, and I wouldn’t have guessed English wasn’t your first language. If anyone would’ve noticed it, I would’ve. I tend to critique with intent to make the writer aware of what I am seeing, so I’m sorry if I seem to be too critical. Of course I have no right to tell you what to do with the poem, but I’ll keep critiquing like this unless you tell me not to. You’re a great writer, of course, and I look forward to reading more of your stuff.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Je parle seulement un peu de français. C’est pareil au Catalan, ma langue maternelle. However, my English and my German are much better because I work with these languages and need to concentrate on them. Au revoir!

        Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you. It is good training to go to open mics in Barcelona and also to the ones in the San Francisco Bay Area where I try to spend my vacation when possible.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Well to exist is to resist…. dwelling in human hearts is exactly the essence of the poem. I guess after enough trials most of us have learnt to live with our wounds. The special trait of us women is to beautify our pains and rather than existing dwell in hearts.

    Liked by 2 people

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