I saw old Autumn in the misty morn stand shadowless like silence, listening to silence.
quote by Thomas Hood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eternal Silence
Silence
Silence when we are walking,
Silence when we think,
Silence is what fills us all,
With a binding eternal link.
Silence in the little children,
Silence in the adults,
Silence wrapping around us all,
Silence pulsing in the walls.
Silence fills this hollow world,
Silence is the choice we make,
Silence is the death of this all,
Silence is our fate.
poem by Okami Kamikaze
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Silence
I awake to silence and in silence I sleep
Silence to silent me, I silently weep
Away in silence for silence to hear
The sorrow in between both mine ear.
I think in silence, I mediate in peace
Thinking peacefully in silence I cease
All the sorrow that embosoms me
All the silence, that silence be
Whatever silence is, for silence tis
My beauty, my desire, my Adonis
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Persistent Pecker
Off in the misty distance
I hear a hungry woodpecker
Hammering with his head.
This omnivorous, opportunist
Breaks the silence of the morn
With his rat-a-tat-tatting
As if knocking on a door.
His persistent pecking
Will end with success
When he excavates
The hapless insect
A meal deservingly gained
But the silence won’t remain
Because he'll begin all over again.
poem by Albert Ahearn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Em 3
about you
what shall i say about you?
ah, i prefer my
silence
this is my cure about
you
yes, my silence
it shall speak about
you my silence
my very own silence
to speak about your
long silence
now we are at peace
in our silence
both shall speak about
us yes our silence
our marital silence in
the silence of our bed
the root of all our
troubles freud say is in
the silence of our beds
two beds now
four meters apart
speaking in silence
the silence of the house
and the chairs
and the staircases
and the carpets and
the ticks and the
empty glasses or those
cold coffee and
frozen butter.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Silence, ssst
Silence
Silence
Silently, ssst, ssssst, please, ssst
Silence
Silence is my guidance.
Through the jungle of lions.
The only way to survive.
My thoughts need hiding
Silence not a word.
Voices where they from?
silence say no more
Don’t open the door
Or the silence will leave us all.
Silence, silence
Silently they are gone.
Silence, I am alone.
Silence is born
Now I am truly torn
Silently I mourn
That I always was alone.
poem by Nadim Lost Soul
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Silence Echos
Silence
makes my heart break
Silence
Love, does not make
Silence
Was it all just a terrible mistake?
Silence
Was love just a game, just fake?
Silence
Leaves me heartbroken
Silence
Kills he feeling behind words unspoken
Silence
has is a shield you hide behind
Silence
Guards what's on your mind
Silence
Chills your heart's sound
Silence
Love cannot silently be found
Silence
has turned your dreams blind
Silence
is darkness in which you cannot find
Silence
Crushes the hopeful feelings that were kind
Silence
Of emptiness it did remind
Silence
Silence took all I sought to find
Silence
Silence was hurtful and unkind
Silence
Will kill love before it ripens on the vine
Love will go silently
But it's lonely hurt will echo for all time
poem by James T. Adair
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In Silence
We talk in silence
We speak in exchanging breath
We argue in silence
We battle with our stare
We think in silence
We travel in our mind
We promise in silence
We create the secret better
We sing in silence
We smile in radiant melody
We enjoy in silence
We move with our body
We share in silence
We stay in each other arms
We love in silence
We grow the hope of warmth
We hate in silence
We shake in every fiber being
We pray in silence
We enchant the words in heart
We long in silence
We drown in loneliness
We break in silence
We flow soundless tears
We walk in silence
We tell our story in footprint
We listen in silence
We could hear numerous voices
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Silence No More
Silence means you never hate me
silence means you will again date me
silence means you need some time
silence means you are fine
silence meanse the hopes are alive
tears came out of my eyes
silence is no more surprise
silence is only you know
silence is what you show
silence is to only glow
silence means only to give
silence means you will forgive
tears pours out of my eyes
silence is no more surprise...
please break the silence
poem by Vikash Jaiswal
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Silence Part III
Silence is the only thing I hear
Silence is what I fear
Silence tells me that nothing remains
Silence tells ne that its the end of your game
As silence fills the air
I begin to wish he was there
I wish I didn't let him walk out that door
And I hate that there's nothing I can do anymore
To make him mine again
I love him more than anything but I didn't know it then
And now silence is all that's left
Silence because of an unnecessary bereft
The silence rings in my ears
Because I let go of what I should have kept near
The tears pour out of my eyes
As I lay there in silence - but that's no surprise
Silence...
Often i stand and stare
into the diminishing light of the day
horizon gradually fading into nothingness
willow and pine piercing the night
the earth ruptures into a song;
accompanied with shrill whistles in the dark
the howling of the wolves and brisk blaring of the wind
Silence enters into the serene beauty of the dusk.
Silence that invites me to come and see
Silence that asks me to reveal
Silence that wants me to make unwanted promises
Silence that does nothing but ruptures a wound deep within
Silence that drags along unwanted pain
Silence that emulsifies unspoken words of love and gain
Silence that was till then pressed within my lips
Silence that now has emerged as a giant affliction.
Silence that comes as a sorrow
Silence that makes me loathe my tommorows
Silence that demads i submit all my emotions
Silence that is eager to make me weak and fragile
Silence that commands i dropp a tear
Silence that dictates me to get lost in the dark
Silence that brings love as a foe
silence that wants to bind hatered deep within my soul
Silence that hurts me for no rhyme and reason
Silence that makes me feel so forlon
Silence that has so much bitterness
Silence that washes away all my hopes and pray
Silence that makes me go week
Silence that unearths agonizing memories
Silence that came so unnvited
Silence that fails to unbreak any Silence.............
poem by Pooja Nepal
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The Power of Silence
Silence is the element
In which great things fashion themselves.
The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sounds of silence.
Silence saved the man the thugs came for,
But the screaming fellow took the bullets
Silence a remedy for harm
Life is a pregnant silence.
Light silence, dark speech.
Stones are mute teachers;
They silence the observer,
And the most valuable lesson
We learn from them we cannot communicate
Silence alone is respectable and respected.
I believe God to be silence
poem by T. Ebi Ken Jemine
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Black Bruises II
I can ponder upon the blackness,
the garrulous of silence
placated by benign solitude
I can endure the ostracizing
listening to lulling lullabies,
listening to trembling metals,
listening to enraptured echoes,
listening to a soundless shattering,
listening to nothingness,
listening to guffawing crows,
listening to diffident clocks,
listening to the waning time;
but am I the only one listening
to these black bruised whispers?
poem by Norman Santos
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Ode to Autumn
I saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand shadowless like Silence, listening
To silence, for no lonely bird would sing
Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,
Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;
Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright
With tangled gossamer that fell by night,
Pearling his coronet of golden corn.
Where are the songs of Summer?—With the sun,
Opening the dusky eyelids of the south,
Till shade and silence waken up as one,
And Morning sings with a warm odorous mouth.
Where are the merry birds?—Away, away,
On panting wings through the inclement skies,
Lest owls should prey
Undazzled at noon-day,
And tear with horny beak their lustrous eyes.
Where are the blooms of Summer?—In the west,
Blushing their last to the last sunny hours.
When the mild Eve by sudden Night is prest
Like tearful Proserpine, snatch'd from her flow'rs
To a most gloomy breast.
Where is the pride of Summer,—the green prime,—
The many, many leaves all twinkling?—Three
On the moss'd elm; three on the naked lime
Trembling,—and one upon the old oak tree!
Where is the Dryad's immortality?—
Gone into mournful cypress and dark yew,
Or wearing the long gloomy Winter through
In the smooth holly's green eternity.
The squirrel gloats on his accomplish'd hoard,
The ants have brimm'd their garners with ripe grain,
And honey been save stored
The sweets of summer in their luscious cells;
The swallows all have wing'd across the main;
But here the Autumn melancholy dwells,
And sighs her tearful spells
Amongst the sunless shadows of the plain.
Alone, alone,
Upon a mossy stone,
She sits and reckons up the dead and gone,
With the last leaves for a love-rosary;
Whilst all the wither'd world looks drearily,
Like a dim picture of the drownëd past
In the hush'd mind's mysterious far-away,
Doubtful what ghostly thing will steal the last
Into that distance, gray upon the gray.
O go and sit with her, and be o'ershaded
Under the languid downfall of her hair;
She wears a coronal of flowers faded
Upon her forehead, and a face of care;—
There is enough of wither'd everywhere
To make her bower,—and enough of gloom;
There is enough of sadness to invite,
If only for the rose that died, whose doom
Is Beauty's,—she that with the living bloom
Of conscious cheeks most beautifies the light:
There is enough of sorrowing, and quite
Enough of bitter fruits the earth doth bear,—
Enough of chilly droppings from her bowl;
Enough of fear and shadowy despair,
To frame her cloudy prison for the soul!
poem by Thomas Hood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Autumn
I Saw old Autumn in the misty morn
Stand shadowless like Silence, listening
To silence, for no lonely bird would sing
Into his hollow ear from woods forlorn,
Nor lowly hedge nor solitary thorn;—
Shaking his languid locks all dewy bright
With tangled gossamer that fell by night,
Pearling his coronet of golden corn.
Where are the songs of Summer?—With the sun,
Oping the dusky eyelids of the south,
Till shade and silence waken up as one,
And Morning sings with a warm odorous mouth.
Where are the merry birds?—Away, away,
On panting wings through the inclement skies,
Lest owls should prey
Undazzled at noonday,
And tear with horny beak their lustrous eyes.
Where are the blooms of Summer?—In the west,
Blushing their last to the last sunny hours,
When the mild Eve by sudden Night is prest
Like tearful Proserpine, snatch'd from her flow'rs
To a most gloomy breast.
Where is the pride of Summer,—the green prime,—
The many, many leaves all twinkling?—Three
On the moss'd elm; three on the naked lime
Trembling,—and one upon the old oak-tree!
Where is the Dryad's immortality?—
Gone into mournful cypress and dark yew,
Or wearing the long gloomy Winter through
In the smooth holly's green eternity.
The squirrel gloats on his accomplish'd hoard,
The ants have brimm'd their garners with ripe grain,
And honey bees have stored
The sweets of Summer in their luscious cells;
The swallows all have wing'd across the main;
But here the Autumn melancholy dwells,
And sighs her tearful spells
Amongst the sunless shadows of the plain.
Alone, alone,
Upon a mossy stone,
She sits and reckons up the dead and gone
With the last leaves for a love-rosary,
Whilst all the wither'd world looks drearily,
Like a dim picture of the drownèd past
In the hush'd mind's mysterious far away,
Doubtful what ghostly thing will steal the last
Into that distance, gray upon the gray.
O go and sit with her, and be o'ershaded
Under the languid downfall of her hair:
She wears a coronal of flowers faded
Upon her forehead, and a face of care;—
There is enough of wither'd everywhere
To make her bower,—and enough of gloom;
There is enough of sadness to invite,
If only for the rose that died, whose doom
Is Beauty's,—she that with the living bloom
Of conscious cheeks most beautifies the light:
There is enough of sorrowing, and quite
Enough of bitter fruits the earth doth bear,—
Enough of chilly droppings for her bowl;
Enough of fear and shadowy despair,
To frame her cloudy prison for the soul!
poem by Thomas Hood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Sound of Silence
Everything lies in silence
Maybe you and me
Just like a beautiful spring
Listening to the sound of silence.
All the time used to noise
We think this is very nice
But let me tell you my friend
Everything lies in silence
From the beginning to the end.
In the very beginning of this world
Everything was resting in the silence
In the end of this world again
There would be nothing in the world
Other than the sound of silence.
poem by Prachi Agrawal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Silence...
I wanted to talk,
but don't know what to say
Silence...
I got nervous,
and looked away.
Silence...
I read what you wrote,
but can't put my reaction into words
Silence...
My inability to speak,
sometimes it hurts
Silence...
I didn't want you
to misunderstand what I said
Silence...
So I kept quiet,
lest our faces turn red
Silence...
poem by Taylor Baecker
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About The Silence
Silence is silence of indifference;
Silence is silence of repression;
Silence is of underlying violence.
Silence need not indicate peacefulness.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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An ode to silence
unmoving untold
beguiling and bold
in the depths of my meandering drifts
lie the silence of times
unmoving with permanence
undeterred with resonance
in the unshed tears of my heavy heart
lie the silence of times
unmoving and brilliant
surreal and insistent
in the quest of the kaafir within
lie the silence of times
unmoving yet increasing
hazy, misty and fading
in the crimson light of my throbbing veins
lie the silence of times
poem by Sheena Datta
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I listen to the silence
I Listen To The Silence
Darkness about me
In the somnolent silence
The silence has substance
As thick as can be
silence about me
as loud as a scream
In a nightmarish dream
It can terrify me
Silence has a feel
Of darkness in velvet cloaked
As a desperate cry being choked
Phantasmic, yet real
As Quiet surrounds me
The silence has substance
The absence of presence
is deafening to me
Sounds whispery as paper
Things scurry about me
Sounds, soft, sad and scaly
Like venom and vapour
Silence is sound incomplete
Silence whirs, silence hums
Silence throbs, silence thrums
Silence has it’s own heartbeat
Quiet has movement,
Tho’ever so slow
Quiet has substance
and how do I know?
I listen to the silence...
as you do also
poem by David Whalen
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