Betrayed
I WENT back to our home to-day
That still its robe of roses wore;
My feet took the old easy way,
And led me to our door.
And you are gone and never more
Those little feet of yours will come
To meet me at the open door,
The threshold of our home.
The door unlatched did not protest:
I entered, and the silence drew
My steps towards the little nest
That once I shared with you.
There lay your fan, your open book,
Your seam half-sewn, and I could see
The window whence you used to look--
Yes, once you looked--for me.
Print of your little head caressed
Our pillow still, and on the floor
Still lay, dropped there when last you dressed,
The scarf and rose you wore.
All should have spoken of you plain,
Yet, when I bade the silence tell
Of you, my bidding was in vain,
I could not break its spell.
The silence would not speak, my dear,
Till the last level light grew dim;
Then, in the twilight I could hear;
The silence spoke--of him.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Related quotes
Triple Homicide
I'm glad the fighting's stopped
the house is silent
empty
this is how I like it
no yelling
no fights
no broken glass
silence
when they're both gone I'm happy
but when they come home
I go straight to my room
I try to be quiet
as I listen to music in the closet
the fight begins
there screaming
this time I hear my name
I ignore it
not wanting to join the fight
my dad bursts in yelling for me
my window left open he screams
he thinks I'm gone
I thought quickly
as my mom ran in
silence
silence
silence
my dad yells again
at my crying mom
I cry silently
as she's pulled from the room
screaming
I hear a gunshot and I jump
grabbing a pocket knife
from my jacket
the cries stop
then another shot
a loud thump
as a body falls
I climb out of the closet
knife in hand
blood pouring out my
parents bedroom door
silence
I open the door and see two
bodies on the floor
a gun in my father's hand
silence
silence
silence
then sirens
and cops coming around the corner
so I take the gun from my dad
hold it to my head
a loud pop
then
silence
silence
silence
t he cops would
call this a triple homicide
or double homicide and suicide
but I call this
a family
who needed help
poem by No Reason To Care
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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 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 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
Guess Where the Peace and Silence Is?
Come here!
Stand over there.
Do you hear anything?
'No! Just silence.'
Where is that silence?
'Over there...
Where you are standing! '
You are correct!
NOW...
What did you hear?
'A slammed door!
You slammed the door.'
Exactly!
And guess where the peace and silence is?
'It's where you are!
On the other side of the door!
There is none where I am.
What are you doing?
And what is this for?
There is one rule that I adore.
No conflicts come within my limits,
To occupy my time or visit!
And that's how it is going to stay!
You wish to come into my home...
To present your point of view,
Of crisis upon crisis...
You desire to attached me with?
I'm not having none of it!
Not as long as I can do...
What you know now I will not permit!
You have taken what you brought in with you.
Be on your way...
Split!
Have a good night.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Sadness of The Empty Home
The light flickers on
Illuminates the empty hallway
The thud, click of a door in closing
Brings a silence to the room
A heavy sigh escapes
A look to the mirror sees only
Tired eyes looking back
A bag lain upon the small table
The light turned back off
On route to yet another room
Light creeps through the window
Allowing enough to see
The sound of a running tap
Filling the kettle for a final drink
Keys thrown upon a side
The clatter of cups and spoons
Then further silence
Now the creaking of a staircase
Another door opened
Another light flicked on
The curtains drawn to the world
Drink set beside the bed
The silence of the empty home
Fills the heart with loneliness
A television switched into life
Nothing worth watching
Just a sound there to fill
The silence and the sadness
Of the empty home
poem by Matthew Holloway
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the sounds of Sunday
i hear the sound of the cold wind from the sea
i hear the waking call of the roosters
the scratching feet of the dog on some disturbing flea
and i hear her steps towards the door as she opens it
she goes to church
and i hear her gently closing the door and the gate too
closing in on me
i am alone now with all the other sounds of the house
this sound of the growing silence
some voices
rushing to fill my mind
some poems
for the day
it is this silence that feeds me
the trickles of my soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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 1.
Most times when I'm hurt,
My silence speaks for me.
She speaks very loud;
Even louder than a megaphone.
I choose to be silent, -
When most things happen,
Not because I cannot speak;
Nor that my words have evaded me,
But because in my silence-
There's a challenging power.
Sometimes in my fears,
When my heart is filled with love,
And my eyes with tears;
I learn to love, just like a dove.
My mouth moves to speak,
But is suddenly cut short by silence,
Silence in love, silence in fear.
Silence in tears, silence in joy;
And when I'm in this mood,
My silence stands so tall-
Even taller than a giant;
She makes her way; -
Even more than spoken words.
Spoken words of loud emotions,
They meet my silence-
And they tremble in awe.
I could hear those words;
They say to themselves,
'How art silence so mighty? '.
poem by Echezonachukwu Nduka
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Tenderly you come
tenderly you come
to touch the locks of hair
that rest there on the pillow
feathered in a dream
i sleep my silence long
two words for its spell
and no silence for a word
you touch my face and line it
up in warmth through glass
that stands there instead of window
sundialed roomed so spacious
i sleep my silence long
two words for its spell
and no silence for a word
you open eyes of a closure
'neath unfaithful sky
to write me there word cloudward
wipe me away or melt
in my sleep silence long
two words for its spell
and no silence for a word
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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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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The Sweetest Lie
when i arrive there
the window is closed
i know a shadow
lurking behind it
i sense desire
you peep and i see you
your eyes speak
that i may come inside
the door that
is half open
i do not think that much
i enter the door
and close it behind me
two shadows fade
when the lights are switched off
we feat on such
a beautiful silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Do You See My Truths? .....
naked shall you see me
dressed in twilight
do you see the truth in me now?
you are wrong
for my thoughts are still covered thickly
and each letter
still tries to conceal what my words
shall try to speak
everyday i write the words
the poems that you read
do you claim to see the truths in me now?
you are wrong again
for what i am still belongs to those
unspoken
and in my silence i shower you
with its emptiness
do you see my truths now?
you are wrong again
my silence does not speak everything
there is still the hush of the wind
the chimes of wood and metal
this silence runs and does not stop
and you flag it
and talk to it
do you hear my truths? do you see them now?
you are wrong again
for i have buried all of them in their niches
when you open each
you will find no door
when you go over the windows
you will see what truths might still be there
those dried petals of a rose
those letters with words faded like sunsets
those broken pieces of porcelain and glass
those jigsaw puzzles still
unfilled
those chains with missing links
those buttons that do not fit
do you see my truths now?
i agree, on those dusts, they have now become yours
visible to the caution of
your heart.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The language of love
The dialogues that love broke the silence with
Like the roses that grew on mountains
With the salt from the winter sky
The unabashed soliloquy, even in monologues
They grew noisy like bees,
The string of words tied to my tongue
They mutter an odd dialect of love,
The grammar of silence was hideous
How could you bear something like that?
the language of silence I understood not
It wrote in whispers and spoke in empty pages
Lulled to sleep by the barrage of lyrics
Even the poems looked liked slangs
Just then, at that very second
I remembered silence is just a figure of speech,
And dear when of love we speak
With tongues savoring every move
The eyes measuring, the ears leaning
The eternal night singing
The language of love is after all
The silence
That meanders within…………….
poem by Reshma Ramesh
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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
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The Quiet Lodger
The man that rooms next door to me:
Two weeks ago, this very night,
He took possession quietly,
As any other lodger might--
But why the room next mine should so
Attract him I was vexed to know,--
Because his quietude, in fine,
Was far superior to mine.
'Now, I like quiet, truth to tell,
A tranquil life is sweet to me--
But _this_,' I sneered, 'suits me too well.--
He shuts his door so noiselessly,
And glides about so very mute,
In each mysterious pursuit,
His silence is oppressive, and
Too deep for me to understand.'
Sometimes, forgetting book or pen,
I've found my head in breathless poise
Lifted, and dropped in shame again,
Hearing some alien ghost of noise--
Some smothered sound that seemed to be
A trunk-lid dropped unguardedly,
Or the crisp writhings of some quire
Of manuscript thrust in the fire.
Then I have climbed, and closed in vain
My transom, opening in the hall;
Or close against the window-pane
Have pressed my fevered face,--but all
The day or night without held not
A sight or sound or counter-thought
To set my mind one instant free
Of this man's silent mastery.
And often I have paced the floor
With muttering anger, far at night,
Hearing, and cursing, o'er and o'er,
The muffled noises, and the light
And tireless movements of this guest
Whose silence raged above my rest
Hoarser than howling storms at sea--
The man that rooms next door to me.
But twice or thrice, upon the stair,
I've seen his face--most strangely wan,--
Each time upon me unaware
He came--smooth'd past me, and was gone.
So like a whisper he went by,
I listened after, ear and eye,
Nor could my chafing fancy tell
The meaning of one syllable.
Last night I caught him, face to face,--
He entering his room, and I
Glaring from mine: He paused a space
And met my scowl all shrinkingly,
But with full gentleness: The key
Turned in his door--and I could see
It tremblingly withdrawn and put
Inside, and then--the door was shut.
Then silence. _Silence_!--why, last night
The silence was tumultuous,
And thundered on till broad daylight;--
O never has it stunned me thus!--
It rolls, and moans, and mumbles yet.--
Ah, God! how loud may silence get
When man mocks at a brother man
Who answers but as silence can!
The silence grew, and grew, and grew,
Till at high noon to-day 'twas heard
Throughout the house; and men flocked through
The echoing halls, with faces blurred
With pallor, gloom, and fear, and awe,
And shuddering at what they saw--
The quiet lodger, as he lay
Stark of the life he cast away.
* * * * *
So strange to-night--those voices there,
Where all so quiet was before;
They say the face has not a care
Nor sorrow in it any more--
His latest scrawl:--'Forgive me--You
Who prayed, 'they know not what they do!''
My tears wilt never let me see
This man that rooms next door to me!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Your Silence
I have spoken long enough
I have spoken well enough
Now let me be silent
And see how Silence speaks
Hear the words unspoken
For you could never speak
And whenever I asked you
All I could ever hear, was:
Your Silence…
Yes, that very Silence of yours
Which sucked all my life out
making me feel miserable
day in and day out
Still I kept holding on,
hoping on and hanging on…
If you could ever speak
Yet you never spoke up
Instead, offered me a challenge
A challenge to a broken heart?
A challenge to a defeated soul?
Oh! How Ruthless you could be…
And still you ever want me
To keep hearing your silence
And make some meaning of it all
I told you long before
Silence never works for me
I am a woman of words…
It might work well for you
So be it, my love…
If that is what you call ‘friendship’
Let you be silent
And me be too
And we can still remain ‘friends’
For if you speak
And I speak too
Who knows, One day
We might become foes…
And I would rather die
A Friend of yours
Than choose to be a Foe.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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In Silence
In silence, you can hear
the scratching of a pen across paper.
In silence, you can hear
the rhythmic sound
of your heart beating
telling you you are alive.
In silence, you can hear
the screech of a demon call.
In silence, you can hear
the murmur of a baby
just moments before
they begin to awake.
In silence, you can hear
your memories calling.
In silence, you are transported
back in your life
into days long gone by
under sun-drenched skies.
In silence, you can hear
your voice of loneliness.
In silence, you are there
within the confines
of your inner self
and forever alone in silence.
11 May 2012
poem by David Harris
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Listening Back
There are no comrade roses at my window,
No green things in the lane;
Upon the roof no sibilant soft patter-
The lullaby of rain;
Without is silence, and within is silence,
Till silence grows a pain.
Within is silence, and without is silence,
The snow is on the sill,
In snow the window wreath’d instead of roses,
And snow is very still....
I wonder is it singing in the grasses,
The rain, on Russian Hill?
poem by Ina D. Coolbrith
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Break the Silence....
Oh! Dear women
All over the world
Speaking the language of silence
Break it, Let the world recognize
You, the women all over the world
Break the silence
Fastened your mind
Let it pronounce the autonomy
Of your heart, of your will
Aloud, agile and ablaze
Break the silence
To let you feel
You are still alive bevy
Crack the crotchet which smash your life
and Join hands to procure rights
Break the silence
To liberate self and
Reject those…
Feathering acclaims
Spot those lurking witty wolf
To ingratiate until death
Break the silence
You had been
Promoting from
From the womb
Let us not carry it along
Till the tomb
As if a shroud
Break the silence
Abandon abeyance
Lest you will be questioned
Not only by your self
But by your dear beat
Dear, Break...
Break the silence......
Let they not inherit our
Mute, muss, musty silence
Let us not see them crown
Sterile, dumb, stolid silence
Sandhya
21.07.2009
poem by Sandhya S.N
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