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Day
Waking one morning
In a pleasant land,
By a river flowing
Over golden sand:--
Whence flow ye, waters,
O'er your golden sand?
We come flowing
From the Silent Land.
Whither go ye, waters,
O'er your golden sand?
We go flowing
To the Silent Land.
And what is this fair realm?
A grain of golden sand
In the great darkness
Of the Silent Land.
poem by James Thomson

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She Is Lovely (French / Dutch Roundel) (In Answer To Dorothy Parker)
She is lovely, but sometimes silent is she,
so fragile she looks with her golden hair
but always she is seen as fair
and about her sheer beauty most men agree.
Still she smiles with modesty
while her looks are beyond pretty and somewhat rare.
She is lovely, but sometimes silent is she,
so fragile she looks with her golden hair
that I a withering flower see
and men at her do continually stare
but of this she is totally unaware
as if she is from this world free,
she is lovely, but sometimes silent is she.
[Reference: “Roundel” by Dorothy Parker.]
poem by Gert Strydom

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Silent
Silent when I have nothing to say.
Silent just to avoid the fray.
Silent when I am not sure.
Silent—I can't stand anymore.
Silent when you make me mad.
Silent I am when times are sad.
Silent when I am too shy.
Silent when I want to cry.
Silent as I carry life's load.
Silent... I may soon explode.
poem by Shaqueena Celestin

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Child Moon
The child's wonder
At the old moon
Comes back nightly.
She points her finger
To the far silent yellow thing
Shining through the branches
Filtering on the leaves a golden sand,
Crying with her little tongue, “See the moon!”
And in her bed fading to sleep
With babblings of the moon on her little mouth.
poem by Carl Sandburg

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Why Can't I Come From The Bay Of The Mouth
most ignorantly I ask
it's a wonderful bay and it's got a lot to say
and you don't even have to put it big letters
the sardines almost extinct would not mind
and even if they did
they would be silent about that
yes, I come from the bay of the mouth
I openly say and if it's a crime
one should say it aloud
or keep their mouth shut
and do nothing about my place of origin
poem by Miroslava Odalovic

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The Elegy
The girlfriend juggling with green flowers
Plays in moony gardens -
O! what glows behind yew hedges!
Golden mouth which stirs my lips,
And they ring out like the stars
Over the brook Kidron.
But the star-nebulas sink over the plain,
Dance wildly and unspeakably.
O! my girlfriend your lips
Pomegranate lips
Ripen on my crystalline mouth of shells.
Heavily the golden silence
Of the plain rests on us.
The blood of the children
Murdered by Herod
Steams to heaven.
poem by Georg Trakl

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There Is Something Inside My Mouth (2)
there is something singing inside my mouth
but i keep my mouth closed
i decide when shall the opening be
when shall i hear this little thing sing again
in the open
for now i have closed whatever is it that opens
that sings
it is time to mourn
to be silent
to die
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Ebb and Flow
I ebb and I flow
In his mouth…
Wet and warm
In his mouth…
Wild and exotic
In his mouth…
I lose all limits
In his mouth.
I pour myself
In his mouth
And he
Guzzles me
In abundance.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee

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Zipper my tongue
notice me not; i am zipper by the fence of
my teeth and close by the lips, protected by two
holes beneath the two big eye balls rap with color
little hair, to feel it shiny tiny cloth of skin to tell
why keep in talking if the heart can't improve
good silent, and why the nose always breathing
when, the same air, feel in the air, would it's not
easy for the ears listen and talk to the wind after
the dawn of silent
sleep my dear heart; let us always open the mouth
and touch the teeth for every silent the tongue will
speak; for each return claps the hands where the pin
is on
what then the little heart tell, when the big blind
mouth says that; the waiting is over for everything is
ready to a harder fight, and win a better glorious
victory, its not the right aim yet, the best shoot it
gain
stop my apology; the same things happen again,
please switch a new beginning for my awesome
heart zipper my tongue forever......
poem by Antonio Liao

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Man With The Golden Gun
The man
With the golden gun
Is waiting
Somewhere
Out there
For you
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
Demand
For the golden gun
It's high priced
Precise
And true
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket, Oh, oh
The man with the golden
Gun in his case, Oh, oh
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
You better believe
He'll be looking for you
He-e-e-e-e-e's, The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in his case
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
But you'll never see him
He'll be looking for you
You better believe
He'll be looking for yo-ou
He-e-e-e-e-e's, The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in his case
The man with the golden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the golden
Gun in your face
The man with the go-o-olden
Gun in his pocket
The man with the go-o-lden
Gun in his case
The man who gave you the golden gun
song performed by by Alice Cooper

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A silente creature
The silent creature
populates the human
minds
A silent creature
is invisible but
reliable and fizzy
This creature is
silent because she
needs to be
understood, refined and
she wants a
lot of aids
A silent creature
is an explosion
of life
To be a
silent creature is
a fresh and
wonderful sensation
A silent creature
is an angelical
messenger
She is a
happy, ancient, colorful
and vital imagine
A silent creature
tells many different
and interesting stories
Sometimes the silent
creature deceives to
defeat the racism
A silent creature
is defenseless from
the not curious
A silent creature
is a desirable
but desperate and
suspicious person
A silent creature
can be an
alter ego
She is a
guide of dignity
and human values
poem by Laura arwen

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To a Silent Girl
When the sklll'd fashioner of female faces
Designed your mask, he wrought with cunning fist,
And made a mouth expressly to be kiss'd -
Not for shrill utterance nor pert grimaces.
The curved, ripe lips-above the rounded chin -
He dyed the hue of summer's reddest rose,
Then placed a smile upon them to disclose
A glimpse of white and even pearls within.
Those lips are silent, sweetheart! - but your eyes
Are eloquent, and they love's lesson teach
Better than other woman's aptest speech -
In their soft light the tend'rest language lies.
In womankind - the world has long confess'd -
A silent mouth and speaking eyes are best.
poem by Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant

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Mouth
You gave me this
made me give
your silver grin
still sticking it in
you have soul machine
soul machine
the longest kiss
peeling furniture days
drift madly to you
pollute my heart drain
you have broken at me
broken me
all your mental armor drags me down
nothing hurts like your mouth
your loaded smiles
pretty just desserts
wish it all for you
so much it never hurts
you have soul machine
stone at me
all your mental armor drags me down
we can't breathe when you come around
all your mental armor drags me down
nothing hurts like your mouth mouth
mouth
your mouth mouth mouth
your mouth mouth mouth
we've been missing long before
never found our way home
we've been missing long before
where we'll find our way
you gave me this
made me give
you have soul machine
broken free
all your mental armor drags me down
we can't breathe when you come around
all your mental armor drags me down
nothing hurts like your mouth mouth
mouth
your mouth mouth mouth
your mouth mouth mouth
all your mental armor
all your mental armor
and your mouth
mouth
song performed by by Bush from Razorblade Suitcase

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Die Sunflowers
You golden sunflowers,
Tenderly inclined toward death,
You sisters full of humility
In such stillness
Helian's year
Of mountainous coolness ends.
Then his drunken forehead
Pales from kisses
Amid those golden
Flowers of gloom
The spirit is determined
By silent sinisterness.
poem by Georg Trakl

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Quiet Ones
It's always the quiet ones
Who are stranger than fiction
They hide under tables like a child
What kind of chemistry is it?
Leaden or golden?
Nobody sees them driving us wild
It's your life
Don't just collide with the waves
Oh look into her eyes
You'll see such silent calling
Nothing seems to matter in this life
Wake up your majesty there are
Thieves in the temple
Picking the sunspots out of the sun
Looking for symmetry in man
Another dead Beatle
Down through the path we see how they run
It's your life
Don't just collide with the ways
Oh look into her eyes
You'll see such silent calling
Nothing seems to matter in this life
Oh so many reasons why
You hear the silence calling
Nothing seems to matter in this life
Oh salvation shine a light on a different world
And carry out thoughts on golden rays
song performed by by Tears For Fears

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Mouth
my mouth
it can be a
canal to diseases
my mouth
it can be a cannel
to injustices
my mouth
it does not
say anything
eat anything
that may hurt me
and the world
my mouth i
use it to glorify
god and his creation
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo

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The Lovely Medic
i am not
drowning
she applies
mouth to mouth
resuscitation
i am not
dying
i have much air
in my lungs
but i am not the
kind of person
that refuses
a nice
offer
so here we go
again
mouth to mouth.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Silent Girl [Reprise]
That silent girl broke my heart
That's her passing now
That silent girl I gave my love
It is her paid me with hurt
What would I say to this silent girl
When all she reply is silence
Maybe if I were to be a silent boy
I wound understand the tongue of silence
But I am no silent boy you see
But I love you like the waters in the sea
It flows and flows and never dries up
Please teach me to be a silent boy
So I can love you in silence
Share with you, your sweet and sad moments.
Silent girl of the river goddess
you are silent, I am silent,
Will you hear me?
poem by Efe Benjamin

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Morning
Look, my love, on the wall, and here, at this Eastern picture.
How still its scene, and neither of sleep nor waking:
No shadow falls from the tree or the golden mountain,
The boats on the glassy lake have no reflection,
No echo would come if you blew a horn in those valleys.
And look away, and move. Or speak, or sing:
And voices of the past murmur among your words,
Under your glance my dead selves quicken and stir,
And a thousand shadows attend where you go.
That is your movement. There is a golden stillnes,
Soundless and fathomless, and far beyond it;
When brow on brow, or mouth to mouth assembled,
We lie in the calm of morning. And there, outside us,
The sun moves on, the boat jogs on the lake,
The huntsman calls.
And we lie here, our orient peace awakening,
No echo, and no shadow, and no reflection.
poem by Henry Reed

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Psalm
Stillness; as if blind people sank down by autumnal wall,
Listening with rotten temples to the flight of the ravens;
Golden stillness of autumn, the countenance of the father in the flickering sun
At evening the old village decays in the peace of brown oaks,
The red hammering of the smithy, a pounding heart.
Stillness; in slow hands the maid hides the hyacinthine forehead
Under fluttering sunflowers. Fear and silence
Of extinguishing eyes fulfills the dusking room, the halting steps
Of old women, the escape of the purple mouth which slowly expires in the darkness.
Taciturn evening in vine. From the low rafters
A nocturnal moth fell, nymph buried into bluish sleep.
In the courtyard the farm boy slaughters a lamb, the sweet smell of the blood
Clouds our foreheads, the dark coolness of the fountain.
The gloom of dying asters regrets, golden voices in the wind.
When it becomes night you look at me from moldered eyes,
In blue stillness your cheeks decayed to dust.
So quietly a weed's fire expires, the black hamlet in the ground falls silent
As if the cross climbed down the blue hill of Calvary,
The silent earth ejected its dead.
poem by Georg Trakl

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