Poetry competition CLOSED 10th August 2014 2:44am
WINNER
Arthur (The literate one)
Arthur (The literate one)
Music or Silence?
I'll choose silence.
Staring at the white wall,
Driving you insane,
Silence you hear,
Down to your brain.
Nothing to do..
But to rot in here,
With leather straps,
Constricting your moves.
Bleak is you,
No sound will help,
When after everything,
You'll go back.
..
To staring at the walls,
Feeling the worst void,
Imagining death,
To avoid.
Staring at the white wall,
Driving you insane,
Silence you hear,
Down to your brain.
Nothing to do..
But to rot in here,
With leather straps,
Constricting your moves.
Bleak is you,
No sound will help,
When after everything,
You'll go back.
..
To staring at the walls,
Feeling the worst void,
Imagining death,
To avoid.
silence
the sweet sound of silence
serenates my souls
seeming sombre
but in a joyous way
paradoxing of thoughts
moments with my imagination
silence is for the master minds
sentanced to my dungeon of truth
silence is like freedom
keeps me grounded
while I fly away into nothing
the true strings if the soul
are summonded by silence
for music is noise
but silence is harmony
silence sings to your mate
for moments shared
are bridged by silences
greatness
I like silence
it means im in real presence
of my own glory
the sweet sound of silence
serenates my souls
seeming sombre
but in a joyous way
paradoxing of thoughts
moments with my imagination
silence is for the master minds
sentanced to my dungeon of truth
silence is like freedom
keeps me grounded
while I fly away into nothing
the true strings if the soul
are summonded by silence
for music is noise
but silence is harmony
silence sings to your mate
for moments shared
are bridged by silences
greatness
I like silence
it means im in real presence
of my own glory
Anonymous
The music of silence
The steady rhythm of my heart beat
Summer winds that blow in warm air
rustling leaves that sing without a care
Joined by 2 part harmonies of crickets and birds
This music needs with no words
The sounds of silence join to create a symphony
no one hears
Its music to my ears
The steady rhythm of my heart beat
Summer winds that blow in warm air
rustling leaves that sing without a care
Joined by 2 part harmonies of crickets and birds
This music needs with no words
The sounds of silence join to create a symphony
no one hears
Its music to my ears
MusicxSilence
Beat, beat...
A strum, a tinkle
A swirling note then
Silence
Fills the air
Eyes wander and
Ears
Perk up
Hard heartbeats
Anticipation
For the beat
That will beat the silence
Eyes closed
Dancing
In an empty room
To the music on your mind
A note walks in
Humbly
Acknowledging silence
Silence nods
The music starts
Their camaraderie
Sends sparks
To my spine
A startling jolt
An electric shock
That sends me flying
Beat, beat...
A strum, a tinkle
A swirling note then
Silence
Fills the air
Eyes wander and
Ears
Perk up
Hard heartbeats
Anticipation
For the beat
That will beat the silence
Eyes closed
Dancing
In an empty room
To the music on your mind
A note walks in
Humbly
Acknowledging silence
Silence nods
The music starts
Their camaraderie
Sends sparks
To my spine
A startling jolt
An electric shock
That sends me flying
SILENCE
The sound of silence
the only sound un heard
the only sound that can be heard
amidst no sound of others
the sound that does nothing
but does everything.
it fills the void, when nothing else does
it is every where, just outside you range of hearing.
it is the sound of peace
as peace is nothing.
the supreme peaceful silence will fall
once endless war, has ended all.
SILENCE
The sound of silence
the only sound un heard
the only sound that can be heard
amidst no sound of others
the sound that does nothing
but does everything.
it fills the void, when nothing else does
it is every where, just outside you range of hearing.
it is the sound of peace
as peace is nothing.
the supreme peaceful silence will fall
once endless war, has ended all.
SILENCE
Anonymous
Daymn!!! That was perfect
Anonymous
Arthur said:SILENCE
The sound of silence
the only sound un heard
the only sound that can be heard
amidst no sound of others
the sound that does nothing
but does everything.
it fills the void, when nothing else does
it is every where, just outside you range of hearing.
it is the sound of peace
as peace is nothing.
the supreme peaceful silence will fall
once endless war, has ended all.
SILENCE
Damn! I can't even begin to imagine where to compete with this one?? So as sad as this sounds, I'm going to have to pass on this comp!
Good luck, Arthur!
The sound of silence
the only sound un heard
the only sound that can be heard
amidst no sound of others
the sound that does nothing
but does everything.
it fills the void, when nothing else does
it is every where, just outside you range of hearing.
it is the sound of peace
as peace is nothing.
the supreme peaceful silence will fall
once endless war, has ended all.
SILENCE
Damn! I can't even begin to imagine where to compete with this one?? So as sad as this sounds, I'm going to have to pass on this comp!
Good luck, Arthur!
Musings of the Lonely Drunkard at Final Call
I listen, aye, to the wailing
of the fiddler's fiddle,
and the guitarist's odd strums,
and the thundering fee-fi-fo-fum
of the man at the back of the stage
with a violin-thing bigger than him.
Double bass, or whatsit?
I listen, truly, to what the strings
and percussion scream
in my face about their fate;
how they aspired, as young saplings
to be more than just things
that make noise.
I listen, yes, and I nod
politely, pretending I understand, because
I don't.
I really do, but vaguely. And I
hear what they say but I forget
to remember.
A moment forgotten is a moment
gone, is it not?
So I greedily wolf down these moments,
this harmonious cacophony,
and I forget about them, but
they'd have gone nonetheless.
And so it is that
I do not remember the music itself,
but the joy that it brings
just as a victim of war crime
remembers not the pain of torture
but reacting to it.
I go about the world like I've
had one too many glasses of rum,
swaying to a rhythm
that exists only in my mind
and therefore nowhere;
and therefore everywhere. Hic.
(Ooh, pardon me. That must've been the rum)
When it comes down to it,
I suppose, 'it' being the core of things,
they're both beautiful,
Silence and Music,
like twins so alike yet so different,
But the World pays attention
to neither.
I listen, aye, to the wailing
of the fiddler's fiddle,
and the guitarist's odd strums,
and the thundering fee-fi-fo-fum
of the man at the back of the stage
with a violin-thing bigger than him.
Double bass, or whatsit?
I listen, truly, to what the strings
and percussion scream
in my face about their fate;
how they aspired, as young saplings
to be more than just things
that make noise.
I listen, yes, and I nod
politely, pretending I understand, because
I don't.
I really do, but vaguely. And I
hear what they say but I forget
to remember.
A moment forgotten is a moment
gone, is it not?
So I greedily wolf down these moments,
this harmonious cacophony,
and I forget about them, but
they'd have gone nonetheless.
And so it is that
I do not remember the music itself,
but the joy that it brings
just as a victim of war crime
remembers not the pain of torture
but reacting to it.
I go about the world like I've
had one too many glasses of rum,
swaying to a rhythm
that exists only in my mind
and therefore nowhere;
and therefore everywhere. Hic.
(Ooh, pardon me. That must've been the rum)
When it comes down to it,
I suppose, 'it' being the core of things,
they're both beautiful,
Silence and Music,
like twins so alike yet so different,
But the World pays attention
to neither.
I choose both, depending on the mood, there is a music in the silence, and all the world is silent when moved by music, hehehe... :
Moonlight parting in
The suns light, fading into lesser light,
Moonlight parting in, setting street lights and lonely passerby’s into view
All that came before now is just a past memory, as it was fated to be
Lonely sidewalks echo sound of the shadows falling foot steps
The cold wind blows, moaning out for one more chance
along quiet pavement, and cities made of stone and steel
Therein, silent tears full of pride fall and hit the ground,
The sound of the city goes round and round
One guitar player in the night,
A lone saxophonist down the road,
Their music mixing in the night’s air, creating a wall of sound,
As I sit here in silence, closing my eyes, let it take hold in wonderment of it all,
As I sit here…
Moonlight parting in
The suns light, fading into lesser light,
Moonlight parting in, setting street lights and lonely passerby’s into view
All that came before now is just a past memory, as it was fated to be
Lonely sidewalks echo sound of the shadows falling foot steps
The cold wind blows, moaning out for one more chance
along quiet pavement, and cities made of stone and steel
Therein, silent tears full of pride fall and hit the ground,
The sound of the city goes round and round
One guitar player in the night,
A lone saxophonist down the road,
Their music mixing in the night’s air, creating a wall of sound,
As I sit here in silence, closing my eyes, let it take hold in wonderment of it all,
As I sit here…
as a musician and a poet, my take on it is this:
Fuck the Main $tream
We aint on the same team
Nor represent the same dream
Fuck the struggle the game bring
& if you love the heat the flame bring?
....I flow heated words until they steam.
My conclusion:
Music industry is cold and talent accounts for nothing as far as success goes.
my mind is full of creative energy so although I could make easily a couple songs a songs a day...
poetry seems more furphilling as a creative vent. making music and going no where, honastly gets deppressing after a while. (my opinion anyway)
cheers
Mike
Fuck the Main $tream
We aint on the same team
Nor represent the same dream
Fuck the struggle the game bring
& if you love the heat the flame bring?
....I flow heated words until they steam.
My conclusion:
Music industry is cold and talent accounts for nothing as far as success goes.
my mind is full of creative energy so although I could make easily a couple songs a songs a day...
poetry seems more furphilling as a creative vent. making music and going no where, honastly gets deppressing after a while. (my opinion anyway)
cheers
Mike
