The Silent Prisoner is an artwork that captures the weight of societal expectations, the suffocating grip of conformity, and the internal struggle of repression.
Accompanying this piece is a poem, a monologue of expectations and imposed identities. The verses hammer down the relentless conditioning that molds young boys into men who suppress their emotions, forcing them into rigid roles dictated by external voices.
The Silent Prisoner
“Stand up straight there boy! Don’t be so coy!
Don’t bloody cry! You need to act like a man!”
“You know he looks way too thin, He shouldn’t be that slim
Somebody feed the poor boy some meat!”
The boy yearns to shout, But is filled with doubt.
He’s unsure of what he should do.
’cause expression is weak, a tool of the meek,
So he’s left with no release or consolation.
The doubt remains; confusion reigns,
He grows unsure of his lot in life.
Contempt of self, feeling beyond all help,
the cracks now begin to appear.
With no means of expression, He resorts to repression,
The silent prisoner he has become.
His mind is his cage, and with a swelling rage,
It’s ready now to explode.
The poem’s protagonist, a boy caught in the crossfire of societal judgment, yearns for release. He is told his body is wrong, his emotions are invalid, and his voice is unwelcome. Torn between self-expression and the fear of weakness, he buries his truth, locking it away behind an unyielding facade. But repression is not a solution; it is a ticking time bomb. The more he denies himself, the more the pressure builds until his silent prison threatens to shatter from within.
The Silent Prisoner challenges us to examine the cages we construct – both for ourselves and for others. It compels us to ask: How often do we silence emotions in the name of strength? How much pain is buried under the guise of masculinity? And at what cost?
Through art and verse, The Silent Prisoner gives form to an all-too-common reality: the suffering of those who are taught to swallow their pain, only to become prisoners of their own minds. The piece is an invitation to break free, to acknowledge vulnerability as strength, and to dismantle the silent prisons we’ve inherited.
A Personal Note
This some old work, but still one of my favorites. It was my first sale from a Group Exhibition at the Counihan Gallery. At the time, I feared how it would be interpreted or whether anyone would relate to what it actually meant. The buyer supported me by purchasing it and then gave it as a gift to his son, who was in a similar headspace and related to the artwork. The money from the sale was then donated to the social services organisation Artful Dodgers Studios , which had supported his son through an arts program.
That is the amazing thing about art – it provides an opportunity for connection that can empower us all.
