Silence Poems
#silence
Silence poems, moving poetry about serenity and the absence of sound. Poignant, tranquil, and powerful poems about silence.
Breathe Slow Dear
Sit silently, my dear
Just breathe
There are no worries here
Let your mind slow
Just take this moment too...
Sit silently, my dear
This is your safe space
To relax and express
There are no worries here
Watch this energy
Take a hold, as you...
Sit silently, my dear
To enjoy for a while
This soothing energy
There are no worries here
Calming the child deeply
Oh, so deep within
Sit silently, my dear
There are no worries here...
Just breathe
There are no worries here
Let your mind slow
Just take this moment too...
Sit silently, my dear
This is your safe space
To relax and express
There are no worries here
Watch this energy
Take a hold, as you...
Sit silently, my dear
To enjoy for a while
This soothing energy
There are no worries here
Calming the child deeply
Oh, so deep within
Sit silently, my dear
There are no worries here...
#silence
78 reads
2 Comments
88%
88 percent of women,would agree that they do a lot of people pleasing. Much more than men.
Honestly,that behaviour is so crazy.
At a point,women still think that they are free.
Women,conform too their environment;
How they look.
How they smell.
How they should feel.
88 percent of women,are still grieving
about the hatred of them,by men,throughout history.
©SukiSushiCrown.11/09/2023
Honestly,that behaviour is so crazy.
At a point,women still think that they are free.
Women,conform too their environment;
How they look.
How they smell.
How they should feel.
88 percent of women,are still grieving
about the hatred of them,by men,throughout history.
©SukiSushiCrown.11/09/2023
#hate
#lies
#silence
#TruthOfLife
#hypocrisy
67 reads
0 Comments
Dawn of Pushpins
Bleeding the rain streaking the window pane red.
In your hands, my soul, in solemn nights. Strings of a
cello chastising my melancholia from the quill of the
Apothecary as the powder of dust rubs off onto
my grave. Leaving a scent of hysteria chained to the
inkwell, with the lusting of a sentimental fool.
Mourning the dawn of pushpins and shadows of
Hydrangeas on my wall. Listening to insomnia
clinging to my insanity. Thinking I heard the canary
fall.
In your hands, my soul, in solemn nights. Strings of a
cello chastising my melancholia from the quill of the
Apothecary as the powder of dust rubs off onto
my grave. Leaving a scent of hysteria chained to the
inkwell, with the lusting of a sentimental fool.
Mourning the dawn of pushpins and shadows of
Hydrangeas on my wall. Listening to insomnia
clinging to my insanity. Thinking I heard the canary
fall.
#dark
#shadows
#silence #emptiness
#silence #emptiness
102 reads
2 Comments
Autumn
walking...
still walking
the autumn wind
Santoka Taneda
something born
alone I wander
so many moons ago
beneath this earth
autumn leaves my blanket
still walking
the autumn wind
Santoka Taneda
something born
alone I wander
so many moons ago
beneath this earth
autumn leaves my blanket
#loneliness
#death
#silence
94 reads
Quagmire and Disgust in the Underbelly
Eat some empty calories
A donut or 2
Suck a dick
Protein
Wash the car
Even though it rains constantly
Don't discuss politics
Pay your bills the last day due
A donut or 2
Suck a dick
Protein
Wash the car
Even though it rains constantly
Don't discuss politics
Pay your bills the last day due
#silence
#LifeCycle
#CharlesBukowski #StreamOfConsciousness
#CharlesBukowski #StreamOfConsciousness
168 reads
25 Comments
A Gray Day
The dawn was an eery shade of smoke gray.
A storm bruised and seized the sky today.
Haunted by fulfillment or lack of,
Now just cobwebbed empty alcoves in my heart.
I'm half flesh and half hole.
Nature provides those feelings that are missing in the technologically bound soul.
Simplicity transcends.
My mind bends to figure out the summer of ends.
But enchanting was the late August lush leaves
and plump berries of the trusted old crabapple tree.
Alive I feel, like a child, a spirit set free of fear.
As the flap of a bird pounds the...
A storm bruised and seized the sky today.
Haunted by fulfillment or lack of,
Now just cobwebbed empty alcoves in my heart.
I'm half flesh and half hole.
Nature provides those feelings that are missing in the technologically bound soul.
Simplicity transcends.
My mind bends to figure out the summer of ends.
But enchanting was the late August lush leaves
and plump berries of the trusted old crabapple tree.
Alive I feel, like a child, a spirit set free of fear.
As the flap of a bird pounds the...
#trees
#birds
#sky
#silence
#aging
145 reads
14 Comments
Sandman Dream
Singing, "Hi-ho, the derry-o"
if The Sandman brought me a dream
silencing me, a pale blue kiss
with nature's little inuendoes
before the shadow awakens
and the coffee opens the eyes
but I can dance among the acorns
and touch the widow's breath
with the scent of a heavenly candle
before the wick, is lit by the lucifer
silencing me, a pale blue kiss
singing, "Hi-ho, the derry-o"
if The Sandman brought me a dream
if The Sandman brought me a dream
silencing me, a pale blue kiss
with nature's little inuendoes
before the shadow awakens
and the coffee opens the eyes
but I can dance among the acorns
and touch the widow's breath
with the scent of a heavenly candle
before the wick, is lit by the lucifer
silencing me, a pale blue kiss
singing, "Hi-ho, the derry-o"
if The Sandman brought me a dream
#inspirational
#silence
#nature #philosophical
#nature #philosophical
71 reads
2 Comments
and he better not duck...
she only writes when emotions run high
deeply inspired
by moments of intensity
her release valve
when it all gets too much
greatly impacted
by upheavals, actions & thoughts
in a very real sense
it's never a good thing
when she remains silent
without passion, anger, pain or lust
her words all crumble into so much dust
I'm hit with both grief & delight
whenever she picks up the pen
and starts to write
seeing tears making tracks down her beautiful face
is almost more than I can take
and I encourage her...
deeply inspired
by moments of intensity
her release valve
when it all gets too much
greatly impacted
by upheavals, actions & thoughts
in a very real sense
it's never a good thing
when she remains silent
without passion, anger, pain or lust
her words all crumble into so much dust
I'm hit with both grief & delight
whenever she picks up the pen
and starts to write
seeing tears making tracks down her beautiful face
is almost more than I can take
and I encourage her...
#sadness
#sister
#breakup
#silence
#LifeAsAWriter
143 reads
6 Comments
Run, Rabbit
Will you tell them about silence.
How foxholes echo through
the muted damp of your throat,
for you too, are burrows
you too will tell them
of your travels inside.
How the brook far beyond
your Grandmother’s house
is where you want to lay
your face, your hands.
You want to drown,
but only enough to explain
the definition of an echo
and the foxes, and the fish,
and the warrens in your heart
they have written their
hushed letters, too.
How foxholes echo through
the muted damp of your throat,
for you too, are burrows
you too will tell them
of your travels inside.
How the brook far beyond
your Grandmother’s house
is where you want to lay
your face, your hands.
You want to drown,
but only enough to explain
the definition of an echo
and the foxes, and the fish,
and the warrens in your heart
they have written their
hushed letters, too.
#silence
234 reads
4 Comments
Holding Onto The Rails
With a pot lickers bouillon of ink and pale twilight.
Rising through the crust of my mind's chimney
spigot. Holding onto the rails. Quoting, "What I don't
know." Listening to the snail's acapella humming on
my gravestone, old soup bone. Waiting for the bug-
zapper's metronome to kiss me, thinking that I am a
flea.
Rising through the crust of my mind's chimney
spigot. Holding onto the rails. Quoting, "What I don't
know." Listening to the snail's acapella humming on
my gravestone, old soup bone. Waiting for the bug-
zapper's metronome to kiss me, thinking that I am a
flea.
#dark
#silence
#fate #ghosts
#fate #ghosts
101 reads
2 Comments
Quiet
I crave the rare quiet of the world.
Where there is no need to be heard.
Silent stoic mountains with their stone stare
penetrate my turmoiled soul.
I rupture with rapture.
Soundless pine and evergreen,
populate so serene.
Everything is so incredibly still,
nothing moves.
Even my thoughts become motionless.
Suspended in a paralysis of peace.
Yet my heart beats a gentle pound.
To an untamed, untarnished beauty.
Exquisitely profound.
Where there is no need to be heard.
Silent stoic mountains with their stone stare
penetrate my turmoiled soul.
I rupture with rapture.
Soundless pine and evergreen,
populate so serene.
Everything is so incredibly still,
nothing moves.
Even my thoughts become motionless.
Suspended in a paralysis of peace.
Yet my heart beats a gentle pound.
To an untamed, untarnished beauty.
Exquisitely profound.
#trees
#silence
#mountains #peace
#mountains #peace
205 reads
15 Comments
High Fidelity
In between all the noises of the night I distinguish her steps. I know is she dressed; what she thinks; what music does she prefer. I don't mind her name or where she lives or in whose house. And yet much less what will she do tomorrow and where will she go: what dark trains will envelop her with their deaf gasp: what hands will hold back her cold one.
She walks now and I feel her close to me: real; tired; always with wondering eyes waiting that something new happens; something to change the monotonous rhythm of the hours: a gesture perhaps that she would understand and...
She walks now and I feel her close to me: real; tired; always with wondering eyes waiting that something new happens; something to change the monotonous rhythm of the hours: a gesture perhaps that she would understand and...
#silence
#vulnerability
105 reads
DU Poetry : Silence Poems