He had occasional flashes of silence, that made his conversation perfectly delightful.
quote by Sydney Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Journey In Love
A
journey
in love
began
the day
we met.
Our
friendship
so simple
an
occasional
hello.
Bloss omed
into a
delightful
conversation,
with
tender
moments.
As
quick ly
as you
arrived,
you
were
gone.
Now I
sit
alone
with
memories
of a
journey
in love.
poem by Heather Burns
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Silence Is...
Silence is an absence
Silence is profound
Silence is a conversation
Being had without sound
Silence is an expression
One that cannot be heard
Silence cannot be spoken
Although it is a word
Silence is a presence
Of great nothingness
Silence can be something
And yet cease to exist
Silence can fill a room
And have no mass at all
Silence cannot be dropped, yet it can fall
Silence is a mystery
That will forever go unsolved
Silence is how every sound can swiftly be dissolved
Silence is the sound of rest
The only sound that can sound best
While other sounds can cause great pain
Silence is not the sound to blame
For Silence is what silence is
Something that is nothing
Nothing that exists
poem by Kyle.J Carruthers
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Silence is one of the great arts of conversation, as allowed by Cicero himself, who says, 'there is not only an art, but an eloquence in it.' A well bred woman may easily and effectually promote the most useful and elegant conversation without speaking a word. The modes of speech are scarcely more variable than the modes of silence.
Silence is one of the great arts of conversation, as allowed by Cicero himself, who says, "there is not only an art, but an eloquence in it." A well bred woman may easily and effectually promote the most useful and elegant conversation without speaking a word. The modes of speech are scarcely more variable than the modes of silence.
Cupboard Love
To my most deserving
and desirable wife,
I write this love note.
I watched you beneath
the pale blue spotlight,
it made your eyes sparkle.
You looked delightful
but still, I can't deny
what I admire in you most
is the way you always
perfectly butter
my early morning toast.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Not Minding The Stabbing Silence in Bed
when we sleep tonight
we sleep
as tightly as screws and
bolts
as dado joints
perfectly fit without any space
for a prayer
or even a simple conversation
to patch up
what was broken
to mend the heart
to fence the souls
torn apart
by so much darkness
in this silence.
actually, i do not
mind anymore
i know
what unfinished is...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Night In Hospital
I had a vague discomfort in my chest
So I was admitted for a cardiac test.
In the heart ward the machines go beep.
It was somewhat difficult to get some sleep.
That night was dark and seemed too long,
Beep, beep, beep and an occasional bong.
I stared at a monitor on the opposite side
Attached anonymity the dark did hide.
Across his screen are jumping green flashes
An irregular rhythm of dots and dashes.
Each minute was a hundred and five beats
On this line balanced his life and feats.
There was a golden line that also jumped
His chest controlled by an autonomic pump.
Up and down that continuous line goes
Twenty per minute he continually blows.
So how many dreams were in those lines?
His life-time shown through digitised signs.
In the shadows she came dressed in white,
Seductively came the lady of the night.
Beep, beep, beep and an occasional bong
Then silence, the siren sings her sweet song.
The Sound of Silence
I’m walking down the street
and I hear the sculptor in his house
working on his statue of Krishna
and the chisel rings out on the stone
like a bell that wants to tell you something:
the stone saying, I am perfectly made for this;
the chisel saying, I am perfectly made for this;
the sculptor saying, this is prayer;
Krishna saying, I shall enter this.
And I hear in the sound of the chisel on the stone,
as sure as I know my own name,
that the sculptor is listening to all this too.
The bell-like sound lingers in the air
as if the air would keep it for ever
as the air’s prayer. It’s music.
The clearer the sound
of his striking chisel on stone,
the deeper the silence
as if sound and silence between them
know a secret: that sounds like this
can do anything in the world;
even call Krishna with their music
to play at being stone for us.
The stone’s laughing also:
playing at being Krishna.
They’re both laughing.
The sculptor is smiling too.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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What a delightful thing is the conversation of specialists! One understands absolutely nothing and it's charming.
quote by Edgar Degas
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tale of a conversation
Tale of a conversation
~
A conversation like no other
Began with a nervous look
A charge felt in the air
History being rewritten
The talk changed that night
Something drew closer
Like an unseen force
Was it the wine talking
Or the words being spoken
Were the one wished to hear
A step taken closed distance
A hand held in a hand
A short silent moment hesitated
The first kiss between lovers
When all did change
A feeling unplanned happened
Seemed so perfectly natural
That there was no fear
The conversation like no other
The talk that drew together
Two lips anticipating
The touch of the embrace
Upon waking in the mornings light
All those words spoken
Became clear
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Silence
Silence in the language
Is the absence of speech
Silence in the conversation
Can be so remarkable and rich.
Silence is an atmosphere you make
And it's the situation you break.
Sometimes it tells you more
Than thousand words told before.
Silence is a feeling
Which is very intensive
Poorly created
It can be very offensive.
Silence can be so different
It has a lot of meanings
It's an expression of yourself
It shows your feelings.
There is a silence
That brings you peace
And you feel yourself
Being at your ease.
There is a silence of mystery
Like being in a dark wood.
There is a silence of happiness
When you are loved and understood.
There is a silence that frightens
There is a silence of anniversary dates
This silence reminds you
Of those lost fates.
There is a silence in music
When you listen to it and dream
But...suddenly...it stops.
Then...the sounds come to their extreme.
The prayer in silence
Is your inner world
When you dream in silence
You are just not heard.
Silence is golden
Or so I've heard
But it sometimes hurts more
Than a single told word.
Silence is golden
Or so goes a lie.
This silence of fraud
Do not need a reply.
Silence when you are in love
You do not need words.
Silence when you are fooled
You don't know what to say afterwards.
But...the best moment of silence
When you take my hand
I know you do not pretend
You just look at my eyes and I realize:
It's love, it's happiness.
Larisa R (Odessa, Ukraine)
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
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Whispers In Sounds
Only the eyes that see through a thousand distance can understand.
Only the ice of the antarctic could reveal the mystery of the sand.
Only the creations of the beauty aquatics could tell the story of the waters.
But who could tell the mystery behind the sun?
Man...Rows of shell, crest of the ark, blues and blues of enshrined complexity.
Sparks and flashes of wave-like sounds, streaming like the flush of the stream of purity.
Flies and mushrooms, sighs and whispers of silence.
Man, with support from the eternal, campus the band of the material.
Silence, silence cried, just silence, silence whispers.
poem by Mike Ebogha
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Silence of Rumi
I read Rumi several times
And every time I went through
the same sincere silence
That unites the human with the divine
Silence of Rumi as though
Is the silence Sublime—
The heart of all sounds!
I dove deep down that silence,
A child’s wonder of sort
Why do I start my poems with words?
When they end only with silence!
His silence is deep
Deep as the existence at the bottom of the ocean
Deep as the calmness of a wise man
And yet he is in conversation
With the silence
And through it, time and again
His silence is the silence of a flute
Empty, easy and melodious
It turns separation into liberation
Oh what a joy—Rumi’s silence!
His silence is an invitation
To join the journey of the soul
A sweet beacon to lose yourself
In the Self of existence
And yet it is conversational
You can toy with it safely
Who can turn his back
Having heard Rumi’s silence
In its sincerity
In its entirety
Who can escape from Rumi’s silence
Having been there for a moment
Who can not hear his silence
Having heard it with the thumps of his heart
Oh love! Go and meet this evening
Silence of Rumi in its serenity
Of heavens
This must be the highest
Of souls
This is the highest!
poem by Bhaswat Chakraborty
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I can hear in the silence
The silence of our conversation
Is worse than anything you can say
And that fact that there's but silence between us
Is well to my dismay
I love you so much
Yet silence is the only thing I let escape
...... ....... ...... ....... ........ .......
Silence draped over our conversations
Like a long, black cape
There's so much I want to tell you
But I know I wouldn't
And I want to scream at you
But I know I shouldn't
...... ....... ...... ....... ........ .......
I know you want to say something too
Of this I'm sure
But it is only so little
That you or I will endure
The few times we talk
I can hear it in you voice
I can her uncertainty
And the need to make a choice
...... ....... ...... ....... ........ .......
I wish silence would leave
Once and for all
Then maybe we could have better communication
Perhaps even outside a phone call
And I try so hard
Just like I try to make this poem rhyme
But it just takes too much effort
And way too much time
But you can't expect me to let silence take over
And if you do you are very wrong
And if we continue like this
We won't be together long
And I bet that's what you want
....
........
............
......... .......
The silence continues.....
And so does this game
What's worst is I know
That I'm the only one to blame
It's all my fault
It's because of what I did and didn't do
And it hurts so much
Because I'm so in love with you
...... ....... ...... ....... ........ .......
I can hear in the silence
What I've heard for some time
You don't say anything
But I know what's on your mind
You leave behind silence
In the dark abyss that is my heart
And what's worst is
I, myself, tore it apart
...... ....... ...... ....... ........ .......
When I realized what I was doing
It was already too late
Just another
Twist of my terrible fate
And silence took over
A silence caused by me
A silence that's eternal
A silence that won't leave
................
............
.... ....
....
.
poem by Tee Anderson
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I have not made any suggestions about climate change. This is more about blending or shifting the conversation about the environment versus the economy. It's just such an old, outdated conversation.
quote by Jennifer Granholm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stanzas In Meditation: Stanza I
I caught a bird which made a ball
And they thought better of it.
But it is all of which they taught
That they were in a hurry yet
In a kind of a way they meant it best
That they should change in and on account
But they must not stare when they manage
Whatever they are occasionally liable to do
It is often easy to pursue them once in a while
And in a way there is no repose
They like it as well as they ever did
But it is very often just by the time
That they are able to separate
In which case in effect they could
Not only be very often present perfectly
In each way whichever they chose.
All of this never matters in authority
But this which they need as they are alike
Or in an especial case they will fulfill
Not only what they have at their instigation
Made for it as a decision in its entirety
Made that they minded as well as blinded
Lengthened for them welcome in repose
But which they open as a chance
But made it be perfectly their allowance
All which they antagonise as once for all
Kindly have it joined as they mind
poem by Gertrude Stein
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Thunder Of Silence
Beckoned
With
Sounds
So loud.
Riveted,
Attention
Couldn't arouse.
Beckon
With silence
On pedestal
Alight
For the thunder in silence
Rivets
Flushes the mind.
Observe
The attention silence commands
A pregnant lady
In trance
Whose silent conversation
With a soul unknown
Unaware of the decibels around which galore.
poem by Sanjay Mehta
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The great gift of conversation lies less in displaying it ourselves than in drawing it out of others. He who leaves your company pleased with himself and his own cleverness is perfectly well pleased with you.
quote by Jean de la Bruyere
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Being Silent
so a silence fell...
where words for loves
which you shouted out
in their love poems
where these kisses
or morning sighs
and caresses
and ardent love
so a silence fell
words ran out whether
it is only a play...
only 'dumb conversation'?
and why
did the silence fall?
poem by Maria Barbara Korynt
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Welcome To My Morning
Welcome to my morning (farewell andromeda)
(john denver)
Welcome to my morning
Welcome to my day
Im the one responsible
I made it just this way
To make myself some pictures
See what they might bring
I think I made it perfectly
I wouldnt change a thing
Welcome to my happiness
You know it makes me smile
And it pleases me to have you here
For just a little while
While we open up the spaces
Try to break some chains
And if the truth is told
They will never come again
Welcome to my evening
The closing of the day
I could try a million times
Never find a better way
To tell you that I love you
And all the songs I play
Are to thank you for allowing me
Inside this lovely day
Welcome to my morning
Welcome to my day
Im the one responsible
I made it just this way
To make myself some pictures
And see what they might bring
I think I made it perfectly
I wouldnt change a thing
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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