The Diplomat sits in silence, watching the world with his ears.
quote by Leon Samson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Watching And Waiting
Watching the world fly by as I sit here
Waiting for you to come for so long
I've turned into a statue sitting here on this bench
waiting for you and watching the world fly by
People once looked at me now I'm just part of the scenery
Waiting for you to come for so long
watching the world fly by as I sit here
I think you forgot and the world did too
about the girl you once knew who now
sits here waiting for you never knowing that you'll never will
and watching the world fly by as she sits there
poem by Amanda Shields
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The Fisherman
He sits by the shore
all day long casting his bait
line after line
into the lake fishing
hoping for that bite
the kind that makes his day
but nothing comes
he sits there alone
only thoughts for company
what goes through his head
while he sits there
watching cold eyed
the open lake before him
is he at peace
or making plans
who could say
he just sits there alone
watching
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Black Bruises I
I can stare into the blackness,
the void of many abysses
behind every dark curtains
I can endure calm and silence
watching pole dancers grind,
watching stars scintillate,
watching still shadows on the walls,
watching dislimned reflections,
watching trees pass me by,
watching ethers wash the screen,
watching my lonely feet,
watching little things sway;
but am I the only one watching
these black bruised visions?
poem by Norman Santos
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We've Been This Distant
Did we not say goodnight
When the clock tick tocked
And you could not stop
Watching it pass us in silence?
And you torcher me
With whispers licked upon
My listening ears...
When I'm not near you!
Did we not say goodnight
When the clock tick tocked
And you could not stop
Watching it pass us in silence?
And you torcher me
With whispers licked upon
My listening ears...
When I'm not near you!
You squeeze my hand.
I see the tears begin to roll.
You've been touched by another man?
I see that!
That does not have to be told!
'Yes...
I confess!
And I want you to do the best
To understand,
When I needed love from you...
There was nothing else to do
And no one else to give it to,
Since yours was not available...
And,
That part of my love for you was! '
Excuse me?
You want WHAT from me?
I can't believe we've been this distant!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Watching Me Watching You
I sit by the cutting on the beaconsfield line.
Hes watching me watching the trains go by.
And they move so fast --- boy, they really fly.
Hes still watching me watching you watching the
Trains go by.
And the way he stares --- feel like locking my door
And pulling my phone from the wall.
His eyes, like lights from a laser, burn
Making my hair stand --- making the goose-bumps crawl.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me
Im watching you watching him watching me
Watching stares.
At the cocktail party with a bucks fizz in my hand
I feel him watching me watching the girls go by.
And they move so smooth without even trying.
Hes still watching me watching you watching the
Trains go by.
And the crowd thins and he moves up close but he doesnt speak.
I have to look the other way.
But curiosity gets the better part of me and I peek:
Got two drinks in his hand --- see his lips move ---
What the hells he trying to say.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Im watching you watching him watching me
Watching stares.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching
The trains go by.
Hes watching me watching you watching him
Watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching him watching me.
Hes watching me watching you watching him watching me watching him watching.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spectator
On a Sunday
at nine
he sits by the window
watching
people passing by
bringing their burdens
he is not part
of this
sacrifice
he is the spectator
watching the day pass by
till the next level of
his lazy enlightenment
the sun fades away
and now the moon
he sits by the window
imagining
the night away
it will be the same on
another day of his life
this spectator
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Same
On a Sunday
at nine
he sits by the window
watching
people passing by
bringing their burdens
he is not part
of this
sacrifice
he is the spectator
watching the day pass by
till the next level of
his lazy enlightenment
the sun fades away
and now the moon
he sits by the window
imagining
the night away
it will be the same on
another day of his life
this spectator
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
The Silence Inside
The Silence Inside
It's amazing how easily silence can disperse laughter. As joyful smiles to outrageous videos play deep into the night, the loudest silence nobody ever hears coming let's everyone feel it's presence.
For once, in too long, there is a connection between heartbeats, not through laughter, nor music, but in distorted silence. Distorted silence that followed a telephone ring and a playful joke. The one with the last laugh is the first to lose his voice.
Smiles fade and sweaty palmed statues appear where there once stood living beings. Then, cold, like a shockwave that deadens the cells, and makes light work of the ears as the brain shuts off connection to what seems to be a miscommunication, or a bad translation between mediums. And without those
ears; silence. Doesn't even matter because even with those ears, there's still silence, as your entire world stops spinning for just a moment. one moment, that seems like years.
Then one speaks, in hopes for a false alarm perhaps? But the reply in silence is the loudest alarm you'll never hear. Then you're brain goes dead with nothing but replayed memories; what were you doing? How long ago was that? I can't believe I said that! You know, I never did........ And silence. Then the clock starts ticking, and the crowd disperses, much like laughter, only leaving, in it's wake, an earth still spinning in silence.
poem by Bragg Adocio
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Introduction To Solution
Sung by the tramp:
While the rich get their kicks with their affluent antics
Mr. black sits and ponders their fate.
He just sits in the gloom of his dimly-lit room
Waiting for them to swallow the bait.
While the rich run their rackets he sits in his attic
And casually clocks their defeat.
While the politicians cover up mistakes that theyve made
And all the promises, the lies and deceits.
A military coup has been long overdue.
Now theres fighting and panic in the streets.
Amid the mass disillusion, disorder and confusion,
He will rise now his plan is complete.
But me, Im only standing here
Watching it all go on and Im watching it all go wrong
And its painfully clear that the battle is near
And I wish I could just disappear.
While flash and his men drink champagne in their den
And debase life with crude ostentation,
The poor cry for more, but theyre reaching the point
Where the people cant stand any more.
But me, Im only standing here
Watching it all go on, and Im watching it all go wrong
And its painfully clear that the battle is near
And I wish I could just disappear.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Such, Silence Was Spiritual..
Such, silence was spiritual
Spirituality was so silent
Seated amidst 'Supremacy'
Highly high above me
Like a lotus above mire
Mind and soul somewhere apart
Eyes and ears all elsewhere...
My big-eyed gaze gazing..
His semi shut eyes tranced
Engrossed wholly of the limitless
Floating upon beyond earth's spheres
A great discovery he 's rejoicing..
Here, what am I, a tiny bit trivial
Drowned ever in tearful unsolved enigma...
So such, wonderment raised my soul
In inqusition to follow his march
A march towards the summit of silence
Upon the mounts and dawns of silence
Along the streams of silence
Along the scented florescence of silence
Along the immortal bliss of silence..
Could only be a watcher me silent
Watching my soul marching spiritful
On and on steady until someone nudged me..
Interrupted was me alone, not his vigil
For he was the Buddha teaching in silence
Succor and solace in huge silence
Such, silence was spiritual..
An experience at a buddhist monastery
poem by Indira Renganathan
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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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The Noise
the people of this world has produced so much noise
the honk, the fan, the sirens,
all these machines that pierce the ears of silence
all these restlessness
making holes in our hearts
i know, you are not loved
and there is so much noise from your pains
the miseries that seek the company of more miseries
i know you have loved much
much greater much painful than you can even afford to give
the babbles, the ramblings, the rattling of the bones
stripped of their flesh
the restless mind looking for the cure
these aches in every corner of the mind
drink some glasses of hard liquor
take the analgesics of other friends
on the same boat with you
the noise is too much
unbearable in fact not only to our ears
but the protest of all our senses
but wait, try this, this sacrifice
that sits on the corner of this nook
silently talking to itself
the irony of loving and being hurt
the tragedy of the smile
that you force upon your mouth
the upper lip that kisses the lower lip
your hands may caress all that you are
your mind shall rest
in the soft comforting bosom of your heart
try this unprotesting silence
and the noise dies
then you have triumphed
the contentment of your loving arms
embracing no one
but the self that you have accepted
as your friend
the noise leaves, the silence lies
like that beautiful lady waiting on your bed
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Orange Sapphire - By Kitty Cotton (My Great Niece) Aged 11 (Set of three poems)
There it goes high in the silk atmosphere,
There it goes again, but this time it has gone deep down into my lawn.
In the morning,
Bright and early its round yellow head sits in the blue sky,
In the evening,
Colourful and chilly an orange sapphire goes down, away from the peach sky.
There I sit watching and watching the sapphire rise to the heavens and down to the under world!
© Kitty Cotton
poem by Ernestine Northover
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She
She
She screams in silence
A sullen riot penetrating through her mind
Waiting for a sign
To smash the silence with a brick of self control
Are you locked up in a world that's been planned out for you?
Are you feeling like a social tool without a use?
Scream at me until my ears bleed
I'm taking heed just for you
She
She's figured out
All her doubts were someone elses point of view
Waking up this time
To smash the silence with the brick of self control
Are you locked up in a world that's been planned out for you?
Are you feeling like a social tool without a use?
Scream at me until my ears bleed
I'm taking heed just for you
song performed by by Green Day from Dookie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Darfur - A Mouthful Of Silence
Darfur – Mouthful of Silence
Darfur hangs under clouds so dark and dense
The world helplessly watching makes no sense
The people there are scared and at their wits end
Murder, rape, robbery, mayhem, knows no end
As the world gives a well intentioned call
There are no results to stop this mad ball
While Darfur reels in a saga of violence
Why the world shows its 'mouthful of silence”?
If we do not act to break this hell on earth
If we do not break our “seeming” silence
If we do not rise now above our own selfish call
The Darfur like violence will one day, engulf us all
poem by Arvind Chandak
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The Beginning
tainted
has our love gone cold
in a place that's bitter and broken
we tasted of a world unknown
surely there must be something better
something forever
hello
from the world below
I'm watching the sun burning
as the road is slowly turning
well I know
that in letting go
I'm learning how to live
through a life I have to give
walking
past the city lights
silence can be so disturbing
you'll find me standing in the night
the stars never seem so unending
so unending
hello
from the world below
while I'm watching the sun burning
as the road is slowly turning
well I know
that in letting go
I'm learning how to live
through a life I have to give
but we painted
_ everything
without there remains our
shadows and the stones
tell me
where did we go wrong
can we just move on
hello
from the world below
while I'm watching the sun burning
as the road is slowly turning
when I know
that in letting go
I'm learning how to live
through a life I have to give
hello
to the world below
while I'm watching the world spinning
this night seems so unending
well I'll follow
to a place I know
that's only the beginning
start over after ending
song performed by by Lifehouse from Stanley Climbfall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's a question of keeping one's eyes and ears open and watching how other people play the game. They're watching me too, to see what my attitude is like.
quote by Charles Dance
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Boy In The Pew
A boy in church sits in the pew.
His mind is not on sin.
In the background the preacher is preaching
and his voice is getting thin,
to the boy that is.
He's tuned him out.
He's not aware of the lecture or shout.
His mind is on more delectable things
like fishing and girls he knows.
The words of the preacher have not reached his ears.
His mind just simply goes
to a place where sin is not a fear,
to where a boy can always be
happy, lazy, boyish and free.
He closes his eyes and music plays
and the choir sings of God.
He listens and finally comes awake
and finds it really odd
that the words of a hymn
as he sits in the pew
can always reach his ears,
something the preacher can't do.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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He Just Sits Silently
A little man sits
silently on a high shelf
watching the proceeding below.
From his vantage point
in the café he watches
the owners come and go.
He is a porcelain figure
who stares out at all.
He never smiles or frowns
at anything that goes on.
He just sits silently there.
19 March 2008
poem by David Harris
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