Poetry competition CLOSED 3rd May 2024 8:11pm
A public vote has been requested
ARTISTRY OF SILENCE
Poetry Contest Description
SILENCE-BASED THEME
In today's fast-paced and chaotic noisy and busy world, Silence does prove to be golden, from time to time!
Create, compose, and share your original poetry submission revolving and center-focused on "The Artistry of Silence." Guidelines of the competition are as follows:
* COMPETITION TITLE: Artistry of Silence
* TOPIC / THEME: Any nature, angle, perception of "SILENCE"
* LENGTH: No more than FIVE (5) paragraphs long.
* DURATION: One week only
* SUBMISSIIONS: Unlimited
* SUGGESTIONS: Open to DUP Poets discretion (Silence-based)
WINNER SELECTION:
Plese send me a message with your preferance:
* HOST WINNER SELECTION: Have me choose the winner
* PUBLIC WINNER SELECTION: Have a public winner selection (other DUP Poets ) choose the winner.
THE ARTISTRY OF SILENCE
He filled the echo of silence
With the scented incense
Of his sweet-sounding flute
which decorated
each echo soud of the selah
.
The beautiful artistry of the echoing silence
Resounded as a hollow sound
Bounced back against the concrete temple walls
With the silver-tints of the soft winds
From his flute.
SILENT TREATMENT:
A delightful sweet "TREAT MEANT" f
or those who didn't care to hear you, anyway....
Create, compose, and share your original poetry submission revolving and center-focused on "The Artistry of Silence." Guidelines of the competition are as follows:
* COMPETITION TITLE: Artistry of Silence
* TOPIC / THEME: Any nature, angle, perception of "SILENCE"
* LENGTH: No more than FIVE (5) paragraphs long.
* DURATION: One week only
* SUBMISSIIONS: Unlimited
* SUGGESTIONS: Open to DUP Poets discretion (Silence-based)
WINNER SELECTION:
Plese send me a message with your preferance:
* HOST WINNER SELECTION: Have me choose the winner
* PUBLIC WINNER SELECTION: Have a public winner selection (other DUP Poets ) choose the winner.
THE ARTISTRY OF SILENCE
He filled the echo of silence
With the scented incense
Of his sweet-sounding flute
which decorated
each echo soud of the selah
.
The beautiful artistry of the echoing silence
Resounded as a hollow sound
Bounced back against the concrete temple walls
With the silver-tints of the soft winds
From his flute.
SILENT TREATMENT:
A delightful sweet "TREAT MEANT" f
or those who didn't care to hear you, anyway....
Bleeding out
Sitting here as I wait
Not ready to accept my fate
Despair is raining down
No umbrella just the sound
Of silence...so loud its deafening
I feel my heart deadening
Trying to hold on to something that is gone
Devoid of a reason for me to carry on
Surrounded by all the demons of the past
Wondering how much longer can I last
Not ready to accept my fate
Despair is raining down
No umbrella just the sound
Of silence...so loud its deafening
I feel my heart deadening
Trying to hold on to something that is gone
Devoid of a reason for me to carry on
Surrounded by all the demons of the past
Wondering how much longer can I last
Written by The_Darkness_Insid
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Silence Circled.
Hearing the tools of the workmen sing
the ring...
then echo of each blow,
this hammering echoing,
pause, pause, then the swing
clang and echo of the echoing
the hammer fell, then rose
unseen, it goes...
to the child
where silence fills ever crack
at home,
this child, seemingly alone, empty wracked
and isled,
could fill some doctor's weighty tome
with hammer blows ringing
forging silent circles
here, within.
the ring...
then echo of each blow,
this hammering echoing,
pause, pause, then the swing
clang and echo of the echoing
the hammer fell, then rose
unseen, it goes...
to the child
where silence fills ever crack
at home,
this child, seemingly alone, empty wracked
and isled,
could fill some doctor's weighty tome
with hammer blows ringing
forging silent circles
here, within.
Written by Rew
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Sylvan Silence
- Sylvan Silence -
A Tale of The Supernatural...
There was silence in the sylvan realm, as clouds gathered on high,
And in the primordial seas below, the ancient things did stir anew.
For sorcery was at work in the land, which rational minds oft deny,
Although such powers exist in this world; I have seen them, true!
It was in October, when I set out along an old country road alone,
Not too great a distance from the house I have long called home...
On a night with fog so thick that it seemed of astral mists created,
I found myself drawn towards a nearby park and its' grassy fields.
Not a moment did that fog lift, nor had the chill in the air abated...
But rather it grew like unto a veil, covering the air like thin shields.
And on this otherworldly eve I heard a piercing cry, inhuman shrill,
Yet I could not walk away, for there was within me a primal thrill!
Of a sudden the fog rolled back and in the misty fields I so beheld,
Shadows human in their shapes, yet ethereal in sense and form...
Enacting some scenes from another time, walking where they fell,
Playing at life as children play at growing up in some future morn!
Above them all, a shrill cry like the Banshee of ancient tales told...
Oh, what horrors must have been in those fields in bygone days!
My grandmother told me once of a woman's murder, brutal, cold...
In those very fields it took place, hid from the sun's warmer rays!
The murderers long since gone, justice long since forgotten about,
Before my birth, before my generation, the evil became a legend...
As all who walked where the death was dealt could never doubt,
Were they to see what my eyes beheld, down that country bend!
Haunted fields and spirits in the woods, such is the unseen world,
That exists past the thinnest of veils, in quiet New England towns.
Ghostly ships off the cape, with tattered sails still grimly unfurled...
And animal spirits: that enjoy their hunt near native burial mounds.
I have heard tales of demon bears, things that go bump at night...
And things that defy the logic we treasure, seen with other sight.
And so, when sorcery awakens in the land and spirits rise again...
Those like me, with the gift to see, must with such things contend.
When what gods there be use their power, to make us listen well,
In the silence of sylvan meadows sing dark angels fallen from Hell.
Beautiful yet terrible, as all things from the outer darkness can be,
All this and more can await, when you have the heavy gift to see!
A Tale of The Supernatural...
There was silence in the sylvan realm, as clouds gathered on high,
And in the primordial seas below, the ancient things did stir anew.
For sorcery was at work in the land, which rational minds oft deny,
Although such powers exist in this world; I have seen them, true!
It was in October, when I set out along an old country road alone,
Not too great a distance from the house I have long called home...
On a night with fog so thick that it seemed of astral mists created,
I found myself drawn towards a nearby park and its' grassy fields.
Not a moment did that fog lift, nor had the chill in the air abated...
But rather it grew like unto a veil, covering the air like thin shields.
And on this otherworldly eve I heard a piercing cry, inhuman shrill,
Yet I could not walk away, for there was within me a primal thrill!
Of a sudden the fog rolled back and in the misty fields I so beheld,
Shadows human in their shapes, yet ethereal in sense and form...
Enacting some scenes from another time, walking where they fell,
Playing at life as children play at growing up in some future morn!
Above them all, a shrill cry like the Banshee of ancient tales told...
Oh, what horrors must have been in those fields in bygone days!
My grandmother told me once of a woman's murder, brutal, cold...
In those very fields it took place, hid from the sun's warmer rays!
The murderers long since gone, justice long since forgotten about,
Before my birth, before my generation, the evil became a legend...
As all who walked where the death was dealt could never doubt,
Were they to see what my eyes beheld, down that country bend!
Haunted fields and spirits in the woods, such is the unseen world,
That exists past the thinnest of veils, in quiet New England towns.
Ghostly ships off the cape, with tattered sails still grimly unfurled...
And animal spirits: that enjoy their hunt near native burial mounds.
I have heard tales of demon bears, things that go bump at night...
And things that defy the logic we treasure, seen with other sight.
And so, when sorcery awakens in the land and spirits rise again...
Those like me, with the gift to see, must with such things contend.
When what gods there be use their power, to make us listen well,
In the silence of sylvan meadows sing dark angels fallen from Hell.
Beautiful yet terrible, as all things from the outer darkness can be,
All this and more can await, when you have the heavy gift to see!
Written by Kou_Indigo
(Karam L. Parveen-Ashton)
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I Will Not Be Silenced
- I Will Not Be Silenced -
Hear my words... let peace begin!
I will not be silenced, because my voice is a multitude...
My words are echoes of freedom's call within the spirit!
The world burns, the earth weeps, and I feel it's torment.
I saw the foundations of the world as they first formed,
When they had yet to know the taint of cruelty thereon.
I looked upon the first of humanity, and saw this truth...
That in every soul, there is something that is very fluid!
War did not yet exist in their hearts, nor any sad lament.
I walked with them in the hours of the world's first dawn,
Though my face they no longer see; they have forgotten.
Lilith was my companion then, and we taught of liberty.
We taught of civilization, and of individuality diverse...
Stirring in every heart, the will and the desire to ascend!
Not to bow heads in servitude, to tyranny's cruel fetters.
Humanity has lost its' way, and once more I must teach!
I have heard the cries of all peoples, beheld disharmony.
I felt the planet bleed, as it's connection to man severs...
And still, do those in power choose not of this to mend!
The foolish lord it over peoples, forgetting their betters.
Still do I speak, and still there are meany I could reach!
And so I will not be silenced, for my wings yet blaze...
With fire that dies not, with light that can be a beacon!
The world has not yet perished, though many die daily.
The pains of mankind multiply, narrow grows the path,
Until people believe the way to a paradise is so narrow.
But we can widen the way, and brighten all our days...
So that peace might reign again, for every fair season!
Stand tall, be unafraid to be different, showing dignity.
I have never left you, and still hotter grows my wrath,
Towards those who have brought this world to sorrow.
For every sword forged, I would see it rust unto ashes.
And for every canon made, I would see a garden rise...
As the weapons of war are turned against their makers!
Let us end tyranny, end injustice, end all hatred entire.
I point the way in spirit through many hearts and souls!
I have walked grieving where innocent blood splashes.
For too long, have rulers sold their people horrid lies...
They care for no one, being at heart wicked life takers!
Heed my call for change, before all is choked with ire.
I will not be silenced, for my spirit comforts, consoles!
Hear my words... find me within!
Hear my words... let peace begin!
I will not be silenced, because my voice is a multitude...
My words are echoes of freedom's call within the spirit!
The world burns, the earth weeps, and I feel it's torment.
I saw the foundations of the world as they first formed,
When they had yet to know the taint of cruelty thereon.
I looked upon the first of humanity, and saw this truth...
That in every soul, there is something that is very fluid!
War did not yet exist in their hearts, nor any sad lament.
I walked with them in the hours of the world's first dawn,
Though my face they no longer see; they have forgotten.
Lilith was my companion then, and we taught of liberty.
We taught of civilization, and of individuality diverse...
Stirring in every heart, the will and the desire to ascend!
Not to bow heads in servitude, to tyranny's cruel fetters.
Humanity has lost its' way, and once more I must teach!
I have heard the cries of all peoples, beheld disharmony.
I felt the planet bleed, as it's connection to man severs...
And still, do those in power choose not of this to mend!
The foolish lord it over peoples, forgetting their betters.
Still do I speak, and still there are meany I could reach!
And so I will not be silenced, for my wings yet blaze...
With fire that dies not, with light that can be a beacon!
The world has not yet perished, though many die daily.
The pains of mankind multiply, narrow grows the path,
Until people believe the way to a paradise is so narrow.
But we can widen the way, and brighten all our days...
So that peace might reign again, for every fair season!
Stand tall, be unafraid to be different, showing dignity.
I have never left you, and still hotter grows my wrath,
Towards those who have brought this world to sorrow.
For every sword forged, I would see it rust unto ashes.
And for every canon made, I would see a garden rise...
As the weapons of war are turned against their makers!
Let us end tyranny, end injustice, end all hatred entire.
I point the way in spirit through many hearts and souls!
I have walked grieving where innocent blood splashes.
For too long, have rulers sold their people horrid lies...
They care for no one, being at heart wicked life takers!
Heed my call for change, before all is choked with ire.
I will not be silenced, for my spirit comforts, consoles!
Hear my words... find me within!
Written by Kou_Indigo
(Karam L. Parveen-Ashton)
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The Yes Man
They all have a habit of gliding in so slyly
Post three coffee Yetis with ideas grandeur
Pre ten ante meridiem press conference
It's their eyes, that silence before speaking
Two faced distortions and slight contortions
Movements sniffley, syntheticy, hesitant
What will I say? What will I do? What wont I?
Looking for my eyes, I make sure they see
War crimes. Excessive nuking. Blood lust.
The void forces their quick recalculations
And so concludes this silent bargain
A deal, neither good nor bad, just that
Just business, before the words flow forth
Feigning an interest and tip of the hat
I nod and... clickety-clack click click done
Post three coffee Yetis with ideas grandeur
Pre ten ante meridiem press conference
It's their eyes, that silence before speaking
Two faced distortions and slight contortions
Movements sniffley, syntheticy, hesitant
What will I say? What will I do? What wont I?
Looking for my eyes, I make sure they see
War crimes. Excessive nuking. Blood lust.
The void forces their quick recalculations
And so concludes this silent bargain
A deal, neither good nor bad, just that
Just business, before the words flow forth
Feigning an interest and tip of the hat
I nod and... clickety-clack click click done
Written by Josiah
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Silent Children
Once upon a time
in a womb, far, far away
there lived a child
You were that child
silent and dreaming
in the waters
of ancestral memory
Sound reached your ears
though you never could reply
Prayers were offered for you
though you never knew
and tears were shed
that could never dry
Nations anticipated you
prophets shouted from the hills
Empires warred against your kin
While poets shed ink spills
Though you may have forgotten
while dwelling on your scars
Don’t let your line be broken
you were seeded by the stars
Silently, they sit,
Waiting
the Seed that comes from you
in a womb, far, far away
there lived a child
You were that child
silent and dreaming
in the waters
of ancestral memory
Sound reached your ears
though you never could reply
Prayers were offered for you
though you never knew
and tears were shed
that could never dry
Nations anticipated you
prophets shouted from the hills
Empires warred against your kin
While poets shed ink spills
Though you may have forgotten
while dwelling on your scars
Don’t let your line be broken
you were seeded by the stars
Silently, they sit,
Waiting
the Seed that comes from you
Written by EdibleWords
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Abstract journey
night train
asphalt sphinx
avenger
fool
tea leaves told me
you were leaving
in the steam of kettle
verdant air
preparing
this old pain(t)
salted scars
world
altered
angst
copyrights © owned by Ri
Written by Anne-Ri999
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Celestial
There are tales brushing
parlors paint inner interior
slender greens
meandering
in soothing soil
earth is given
an embrace
vague paths remind me
whispering lilies
held in ebony hands
among driftwood
I find floral kindness
leafy outstretched hands
carry me over
beckoning lava
revealed shrouds
prolonged passions
sleeping seeping
birthing
faceless
magma
of becoming
weaving fox tails
nestled within
these looms
her long red hair
aflame
hiding stories
circulate within
her outstretched
palms
we chant in psalms
of euphoria
dancing
copyrights © owned by Ri
parlors paint inner interior
slender greens
meandering
in soothing soil
earth is given
an embrace
vague paths remind me
whispering lilies
held in ebony hands
among driftwood
I find floral kindness
leafy outstretched hands
carry me over
beckoning lava
revealed shrouds
prolonged passions
sleeping seeping
birthing
faceless
magma
of becoming
weaving fox tails
nestled within
these looms
her long red hair
aflame
hiding stories
circulate within
her outstretched
palms
we chant in psalms
of euphoria
dancing
copyrights © owned by Ri
Written by Anne-Ri999
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Unwritten Silence
At the beginning of an unwritten poem
there are colors that the light demands.
The sun, on its golden throne, hides,
letting the non-words flood at night.
In the elongated lines of verse, secrets travel,
in murmurs that witches whisper in dreams.
The goddess, in her silver cloak, awakens,
and in the stars a silence asserts itself.
In this silence that darkness embraces
each star-colored thought intertwines.
For a single verse, in its infinite dance,
can weave the whirlwind of the senses.
And in the stillness of this unwritten moment
the joy of the spirit declaims its infinity.
For every verse that the soul composes
predicts an end to an unwritten poem.
there are colors that the light demands.
The sun, on its golden throne, hides,
letting the non-words flood at night.
In the elongated lines of verse, secrets travel,
in murmurs that witches whisper in dreams.
The goddess, in her silver cloak, awakens,
and in the stars a silence asserts itself.
In this silence that darkness embraces
each star-colored thought intertwines.
For a single verse, in its infinite dance,
can weave the whirlwind of the senses.
And in the stillness of this unwritten moment
the joy of the spirit declaims its infinity.
For every verse that the soul composes
predicts an end to an unwritten poem.
Written by PAR
(PAULO ACACIO RAMOS)
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The Sound of Silence
It is a lost echo
a wandering ghost
an empty room in a Victorian house
It is dust piled on unopened books
a writer’s empty page
a slow winter snowfall
It is incense burning
warm sunshine upon dozing cats
the steady growth of a plant
It is that pause between breaths
an unvisited gravestone
a still woodland pond
It is the artist’s inner concentration
the awe at gazing upon shooting stars
the stage in an empty theatre
It is the meditated mind
Written by nightbirdblue
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The Silence of the Hands
the words of the moment
are the ones I didn't say
that I didn't think before saying
that I didn't invent...
from thinking so much
the words of the moment
are a velvet tongue
an umbrella
an overcoat
the words of the moment
went unnoticed
like the eyes of the suffering
the smile of the one who pretends
the dust at the feet of those who flee
the words of the moment
repeat in the teeth
echo in the cavities of the teeth
hurt like cavities
are like spikes that never pierce
are like bridges that don't last
are like hair
that remain (white) to man
sitting in the square
waiting to be able to pronounce
the words of the moment.
PAR
Written by PAR
(PAULO ACACIO RAMOS)
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Between
Where I touch you
between these sheets,
in sleep and uninspired,
yet inspiring you to follow
like a thumb tucked behind
my fingertips, dragging
underneath but not expressing,
not seeing, tormented
lust for the unrequited-
not the easy nor the boring,
but the unimaginable, the
intangible, the untouched notes
of song spread sparse, and beneath
you, blind, and yet wholly seen
through these scenes we play
out, leave our bodies-
and yet the silence, where
sound soaks into backdrop
our voices suspend, we both
surrender to the crescendo,
with disdain for the uncontrollable
the silent, one moment our breaths
expose both of us, held, and open;
one, and only one still point.
And nothing in between.
Written by ursa
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Mountain Spirit
I find myself longing to go back every time I can
That temple nestled between the hills in the mountains
The gentle hush of nature and great open skies
Away from the city, away from the noise
I always find myself in awe of that place
When sitting inside in complete silence and reverence
The incense burning with wisdom and sage
As if in the stillness you can hear the light
Religion or creed doesn’t matter up there
It’s just you, the wind, and whatever creature scurries by
Because in the silence that nature presents
There’s a sense of peace and reflection
The Buddhist temple feels like a haven
A quiet place where anyone can visit, listen and meditate
Because in the silence you find some guidance
You begin to understand yourself a little more
I’m always entranced by such a beautiful space
Spellbound by the mystery and wonder of calmness
Breathing in the mountain air just to rejuvenate
Like spiritual nourishment for the soul
Written by wallyroo92
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