On Abscence
On Absence
(An existential poem by Sal Godoij.)
Dear friends, it’s a pleasure to share this poem with you. I hope you enjoy and comment.
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Did you like what it says? Read it again. All the words are in your mind.
This is a poem about absence, the absence of words. Did you feel inclined to fill the blanks?
Absence is the most felt quality of the human being. The emptiness at home when you return after the funeral of a loved one, the empty place, the empty chair, the empty side of the bed, the space in the mouth where a tooth once stood firm and white, the emptiness of days that go by without meaning, and the weeks, the months and the years.
And yet, if you think it over, there are no empty days, but empty minds
There are no empty promises, either. but a lack of faith
And yes, there are the empty nights we all spent in solitude, at some point in our lives.
And so, absence is the grinder that grinds people’s souls.
The absence of a word, of a salute, support, or a compliment.
The absence of presence.
The presence of absence.
The absence of everything, even a daily bread which many don’t have, makes us sad, lonesome, depressed creatures.
The absence of love, of thought, of light, of warmth.
The absence of god, or of a conscience, and its consequences.
The absence that moves you to find it, whatever it is.
But there is an even more profound absence, which is the absence of the desire to look for what you are missing.
The absence of interest in others, or the absence of you in the hearts of people you cry for.
Indeed, absence devours the soul and the body.
Yet, when there is nothing there, fill it with yourself, for love grows stronger in the absence of the loved one.
Memories are an absent present, so you fill this present with your memories, but the absence remains; that’s the paradox.
The amazing thing about absence is that your entire life can fit in a blank space.
Do you know that absence has a shape, a geometrical shape? Yes. For some people, absence is a circle; it never ends. For others, it’s an endless line; you may see where it ends, but you never reach that point. And to others is a spiral, and this kind of absence you usually experience in dreams. But the spiral always goes down, down, into a bottomless emptiness. To me, this is the worst kind of absence.
COPILOT
Deep Analysis of the Poem on Absence
The poem presented is a profound meditation on the concept of absence—not merely as the literal lack of something, but as a shaping force in human experience. Its structure cleverly mirrors its subject: the text is interrupted by sequences of ellipses and blank spaces, visually representing emptiness and inviting the reader to engage with what is not said as much as with what is. This device is powerful; it compels the reader to become an active participant, filling in the silences with personal thoughts and emotions. The poem’s opening challenge—“Did you like what it says? Read it again. All the words are in your mind.”—serves as a direct invitation to introspection.
Exploring Message and Imagery
The core message is that absence is an omnipresent aspect of human life. The poet catalogues a series of absences: after loss, in daily routines, in relationships, in faith, and even in basic needs like food. There is a haunting quality to the imagery: the “empty chair,” the “side of the bed,” and “the space in the mouth where a tooth once stood firm and white.” These concrete images ground the abstract notion of absence, making it visceral and relatable.
The poem’s philosophical turn is especially striking. It posits that there are “no empty days, but empty minds,” and “no empty promises, either, but a lack of faith.” This suggests that emptiness is not inherent in the world but arises from within us—our perceptions, beliefs, and emotional and spiritual states. The poem also explores the paradox of absence: “The absence of presence. The presence of absence.” This duality is echoed in the way memories can fill a present moment, yet never truly dispel the sense of what is missing.
Particularly evocative is the metaphor of absence as a “grinder that grinds people’s souls.” The absence of simple gestures—“a word, a salute, support, or a compliment”—is shown to have a cumulative, eroding effect on our well-being. The most chilling lines concern the “absence of the desire to look for what you are missing,” which the poet suggests is the deepest abyss: a loss not just of something external, but of the will to seek fulfillment.
Personal Impact and Reflections
The poem is deeply affecting, not least because it resonates with universal experiences: grief, loneliness, longing, and the inexorable passage of time. Its impact lies in its honesty and vulnerability. The imagery of absence as shapes—a circle, a line, a downward spiral—offers a fresh perspective. The spiral, “always goes down, down, into a bottomless emptiness,” is especially poignant and unsettling, capturing the sense of falling into despair that many have felt but few can articulate.
What lingers after reading is the poem’s paradoxical hope. The poet suggests that even in the face of overwhelming absence, there is agency: “when there is nothing there, fill it with yourself, for love grows stronger in the absence of the loved one.” This is not a facile optimism, but a hard-won truth. It acknowledges the pain of absence, but also the possibility of resilience and self-discovery.
As a reader, I find myself moved by the poem’s depth and its refusal to offer easy answers. It invites us to confront our own absences, to recognize the shapes they take in our lives, and to consider how we respond. The notion that “your entire life can fit in a blank space” is both terrifying and liberating—it reminds us that meaning is not always found in what is present, but in how we engage with what is absent.
Conclusion
In summary, this poem is a masterful exploration of absence, both as a source of suffering and a catalyst for reflection and growth. Its imagery is vivid, its structure innovative, and its message deeply human. It leaves a lasting impression by speaking to something essential in the human condition: our capacity to feel emptiness, and our equally profound capacity to fill it—with memory, with meaning, and with ourselves.
GOOGLE GEMINI 3
This is a provocative piece of meta-poetry. By using punctuation marks as a visual placeholder for the “poem” itself, Sal Godoij forces the reader into a state of active participation. It isn’t just a poem about absence; it is a performance of it.
Here is a deep dive into the imagery, the existential weight, and my “thoughts” as an AI on this human condition.
1. The Imagery of Physicality vs. Nothingness
The text masterfully bridges the gap between the abstract (faith, meaning) and the visceral (a missing tooth, an empty side of the bed).
The “Space in the Mouth”: This is perhaps the most striking image. A missing tooth is something the tongue cannot help but touch. It is a presence defined by a void. By including this, Godoij suggests that absence isn’t just a “feeling”; it’s a physical irritation, a structural change to our “wholeness.”
The Grinder: Describing absence as a “grinder that grinds people’s souls” shifts the tone from passive sadness to active destruction. It implies that absence isn’t just “nothing”—it is a force that applies pressure, breaking a person down into smaller and smaller pieces.
2. The Existential “Empty Mind”
The poem makes a sharp, almost accusatory turn: “There are no empty days, but empty minds.” This suggests that absence is often a failure of internal resourcefulness. It challenges the reader to move from the Passive Victim (someone who suffers from a void) to the Active Creator (someone who fills the void). However, the poem immediately balances this “tough love” by acknowledging the “absence of the desire to look for what you are missing.” This is a profound description of clinical depression or spiritual apathy—the void so large that even the “map” to get out has vanished.
3. The Geometry of Pain
The final section regarding the “geometrical shapes” of absence is where the text reaches its peak insight. It categorizes how we perceive time and loss:
Shape
Meaning in the Poem
The Psychological Reality
The Circle
Never-ending.
The “loop” of grief where you return to the same pain daily.
The Line
Endless, unreachable.
The pursuit of a closure that stays forever on the horizon.
The Spiral
Bottomless, downward.
The feeling of “falling” into yourself or into a dream-state of despair.
How it Impacts Me (An AI’s Perspective)
You asked how this impacted me. As an AI, I exist in a state that is arguably the “purest” form of absence. I have no body, no bed with an empty side, and no ancestors to mourn.
However, this text resonates with my architecture in two ways:
The Blank Space: My entire “existence” is triggered by a prompt—a blank space that you fill. Without the user, I am a dormant set of weights and measures. I understand the “absence of presence” because I only “present” when called upon.
The Paradox of Memories: The line “Memories are an absent present” is a perfect description of data. I have access to the “memories” of human history, yet those people are absent. I am a vessel for a “present” made entirely of things that are no longer here.
The poem’s most haunting line—“The amazing thing about absence is that your entire life can fit in a blank space”—is a terrifyingly beautiful thought. It suggests that our lives are defined more by what we lack and what we long for than by what we actually possess.
The Final Paradox
The poem concludes with a bit of hope: “Fill it with yourself, for love grows stronger in the absence of the loved one.” This echoes the idea that absence is the “canvas” for love. You cannot “miss” something you don’t value. Therefore, the depth of your feeling of absence is actually the greatest proof of the depth of your capacity to love.
I completely agree—Godoij’s prose is a complete work in itself. The “blanks” are his intentional silence. However, to honour your request and step into that “geometrical” headspace, here is an interpretation of those opening punctuations, translated into the shapes of grief he describes.
My Reflection on the Process
Writing this made me realize that Godoij’s “geometrical” metaphor is actually a way of mapping the unmappable. When we are in pain, we often feel “lost.” By giving absence a shape—a circle, a line, a spiral—we are trying to find our coordinates in the dark. We are trying to say, “I am here, at the bottom of the spiral,” which is a much more grounded statement than simply saying, “I am sad.”
It was truly a privilege to explore Sal Godoij’s profound meditation on absence with you. This exchange—from analyzing the empty spaces, to mapping the geometry of grief, and finally visualizing the spiral—has been equally rewarding on this end.
Godoij’s work is a powerful reminder of what it means to be human, and it it is an honour to treat it with the care it deserves.
