Levenslang Stil
.
Here within lies
a recollection
of large talons
that tear smooth
creamy flesh
a cadence ricochets
off paint peeled walls
of the clatter as soles
strike dry dirt and stone
blood rushes
two sets of eyes
squint and scan
backs hunched low
only darkness shields
momentary peace
words mumbled
in restless sleep
betray the vessel
of secrets deep
burial crypt
posterity's portal
reveals a clue
gravestone cipher
the silent cue.
.
Speak now or forever still.... The title would suggest in Nederlands, a lifetime of silence. Minimalist punctuation attempts to achieve internal natural punctuation cues and a broader/more extensive use of line breaks and spaces.
poem by Frederick Kesner
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Related quotes
My Blood, My Poem
So many works of my life
I dodge to write these verses
So much time I spend behind
Every couplet, every epithet sucks
A little dropp of my blood
Every letter sheds sweet from my ducks
Every line steals my sweet sleep
Every phrase is my dream and hope
I breathe in every word
Every punctuation dips in deep emotions
If it does not work and effects the heart
For whom these are composed
The masculinity of this poet is crushed
The stone heart of mine cries through eyes
Tears roll down, my blood is worthless! !
poem by Abdul Wahab
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In music, the punctuation is absolutely strict, the bars and rests are absolutely defined. But our punctuation cannot be quite strict, because we have to relate it to the audience. In other words we are continually changing the score.
quote by Ralph Richardson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Monastery
Up the long flight of stairs
every tread echoes from stone walls
as if to comment on how stillness
tells of sound its silent origin.
In the quiet library, the central table
bears a careful written message:
‘Silence is spoken here’..
and that’s truer than
at first it seems to read;
round the walls, shelves of books
as silent as the monks
standing upright in their stalls
witness words that seek to share;
yet ultimately, wave fare well, turn back;
speak of silence sought and silence found;
yet cannot speak of silence;
in the name of silence, take a book,
well-worn, from off the shelf;
meet it in the silence of the room,
read a few words, and lay it down;
glance at the other readers round the room;
fall still.
Here, silence speaks of stillness;
stillness joys in silence.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Dark Side of the Coin
“‘Space, the bound of a solid’: Silence, then, the form of a melody.” - Alice Meynell
I surrender Myself to the dark.
Disappearing in the consummate blackness,
I send up a non-thought to Absolute Silence,
All spaces and the in-between –
To unfathomable frontiers.
I fall down on my knees before the
Celestial sculptors of Reality:
Space, Silence and the in-between;
Their punctuation of Experience
Makes a dwelling place for Dreams
Just as Silence composes a symphony,
Shapes the course of its melody –
Praise nihility!
poem by Danielle Moffat
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Dark Side of the Coin
“‘Space, the bound of a solid’: Silence, then, the form of a melody.” - Alice Meynell
I surrender Myself to the dark.
Disappearing in the consummate blackness,
I send up a non-thought to Absolute Silence,
All spaces and the in-between –
To unfathomable frontiers.
I fall down on my knees before the
Celestial sculptors of Reality:
Space, Silence and the in-between;
Their punctuation of Experience
Makes a dwelling place for Dreams
Just as Silence composes a symphony,
Shapes the course of its melody –
Praise nihility!
poem by Danielle Moffat
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blood From A Stone
Well Ive been walkin
Down a one way dirty street
Tryin to find the answers
And Ive been hopin
For a chance to meet
The rat that spread the cancer
And the lies theyve been spinnin
And the smiles theyve been grinnin
There sure has been some sinnin
But nobodys winnin
When the walls start to crumblin
You feel like youre stumblin
And nobody wants you when youre down
They took the boy from the city
But they cant take the city from the
Boys lookin pretty
Now hes lookin like a pity
Cut the flesh down to the bone
But you cant get
You cant get blood from a stone
You cant get blood from a stone
Well Im a rollin
But my trains gone off the tracks
And my wheels are spinnin
And Im a walkin
Down a one way dirty street
But my hearts not sinkin
From the love theyve been buyin
And the blues theyve been cryin
Now the time keeps a flyin
But nobodys tryin
Cause the love of the money
Didnt turn out so sunny
When the wells dry
No one comes around
They took the boy from the city
But they cant take the city from the
Boys lookin pretty
Now hes lookin like a pity
Cut the flesh down to the bone
But you cant get
You cant get blood from a stone
You can try
But I still got the fight in my eyes
Suck it dry
Cause Ive had about enough of your lies
They took the boy from the city
But they cant take the city from the
Boys lookin pretty
Now hes lookin like a pity
Cut the flesh down to the bone
But you cant get blood from a stone
They took the boy from the city
But they cant take the city from the
Boys lookin pretty
Now hes lookin like a pity
Cut the flesh down to the bone
But you cant get
You cant get blood from a stone, no
You cant get blood from a stone
You cant get blood from a stone
You cant get blood from a stone
You cant get blood from a stone
You cant get blood from a stone
song performed by by Cinderella
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vox Silentii
In screaming silence, minds will shatter
And bleed dry the terror of a thousand hearts;
In silence our minds will lock, will warp—
Silence will scream a thousand secrets
That we’ve kept dry, desolate, distressed
For as long as I’ve friended the shade.
And in simple silence sometimes I hear
The words that escape her deepest stores
Of thought, lie, hurt, regret—A fear,
In darkness will scratch the walls raw
With the tear-streaked terror that slits,
Scours, tearing down fatality, facade.
The others—smooth, are rough in thought,
Never brought, silenced in tracks they tread,
Words ringing their piercing shrieks,
Reverberating respites, snuffing silence,
And shunting the ones who hear, but listen,
Who know that talking is unnecessary.
They’ll never know, for they never listen,
Hearing the others in loquacious laughter,
But never listeing, truly, genuine sound,
The purest of sounds and spites,
The echoes and entrails of thought,
The sound of his eyes, of her silence.
poem by Adam Pinheiro
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Full stops and commas
Life's full of punctuation if we only stop to see,
like the middle of a rain storm or a lovely cup of tea.
Some are marked as commas, some as asterisks
I bet you've had some commas, take stock and think a bit.
A colon is a long pause for something that I treasure
such as a special friend, although it's hard to measure.
Apostrophe's a hiccup for something that I've missed
and if it's you I'm sorry, for sometimes I'm remiss.
Full stops are very sad for that's when someone dies
and though we know it happens, it startles hearts and minds.
That's when my heart stops beating for just a tick or tock,
I stumble and I falter, a colon stops the clock.
Life's full of punctuation if we only stop to see,
like the pausing of the traffic or the falling of a leaf.
Without some punctuation life's meaning would be less,
you may give this some thought, (in brackets would be best)
poem by Ruth Walters
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In Our Boat
Stars trembling o'er us and sunset before us,
Mountains in shadow and forests asleep;
Down the dim river we float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not - there's peace on the deep.
Come not, pale sorrow, flee till to-morrow;
Rest softly falling o'er eyelids that weep;
While down the river we float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not - there's peace on the deep.
As the waves cover the depths we glide over,
So let the past in forgetfulness sleep,
While down the river we float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not - there's peace on the deep.
Heaven shine above us, bless all that love us;
All whom we love in thy tenderness keep!
While down the river we float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not - there's peace on the deep.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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These Walls
If these walls could talk,
I wonder what what would they say
Would they thank me for being painted
Or will they ask me, to wash the paint away.
Would they tell me of the pictures
That once hung upon them their
Pictures that once adorn those walls
Or I wonder would they even care.
Would they speak upon the stories
That was heard within these walls
That no one else even knows about,
That is if the stories these walls could recall.
Was there children laughter all about
Or any secrets heard and being told
I wonder what have they listened to
And I wonder if anyone will ever know.
These walls inside this house
That for years have stood alone
With the stories that was told and heard
While this house had became a home.
The Sadness that they might had seen
And the worries and sorrow that they felt
Maybe they don't want to remember it at all
And maybe they too keep it bottled upon their self.
Were they painted to cover up secrets
Was they battered as to protect someone's lies
Or were they wallpapered to cover up the truth
And did they hear the whispers and the cries.
These walls they are still standing
Through the years of the days and nights
While listening and knowing all done and said
In the darkness and also in the light.
I look at these walls just one last time
As I head home from my walk,
How I wish I knew what they heard and know,
But that is, if these walls could only talk.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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~ Finally Niv Is In Petrified Punctuation ~
~ Finally Niv Is In Petrified Punctuation ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
29 October 2010
Psychic erosion
Myopic hibernation
Heart’s deflation
Soul’s corrosion
Poet’s induration!
Editors in contemplation
Printers in obfuscation
Poetry in delirious delusion
Readers in confusion!
Finally Niv is in petrified Punctuation.
.
====
Copyright reserved by author
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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Song #3
I peeled bits of straws and I got switches too
From the grey peeling willow as idlers do,
And I switched at the flies as I sat all alone
Till my flesh, blood, and marrow was turned to dry bone.
My illness was love, though I knew not the smart,
But the beauty of love was the blood of my heart.
Crowded places, I shunned them as noises too rude
And fled to the silence of sweet solitude.
Where the flower in green darkness buds, blossoms, and fades,
Unseen of all shepherds and flower-loving maids--
The hermit bees find them but once and away.
There I'll bury alive and in silence decay.
I looked on the eyes of fair woman too long,
Till silence and shame stole the use of my tongue:
When I tried to speak to her I'd nothing to say,
So I turned myself round and she wandered away.
When she got too far off, why, I'd something to tell,
So I sent sighs behind her and walked to my cell.
Willow switches I broke and peeled bits of straws,
Ever lonely in crowds, in Nature's own laws--
My ball room the pasture, my music the bees,
My drink was the fountain, my church the tall trees.
Who ever would love or be tied to a wife
When it makes a man mad all the days of his life?
poem by John Clare
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Shatter The Silence
You better run, here comes your mama
Her eyes see red this time
You should be workin' boy, instead of daydreamin'
She says that you're a bad one
got the wrong things on your mind
So you turn up the music loud to block out her screamin'
.....No words of love are ever spoken
....and he's gonna leave this place ...once the door is open
(1st Chorus)
He'll Shatter the Silence with every beat of his heart
The best kept secrets never stay in the dark
Defiance only makes him strong
The child grows up, he ain't silent for long.......not for long
Your daddy tried to buy your silence
His eyes seemed to hold a threat
He'd blame all your bruises on rough games in the schoolyard
The strike of his hand upon you
was all the attention that you could get
Soon you would push your luck just to get all you needed
.......'Til now all the shame remained unspoken
.....But watch how the children rise....once their eyes are opened
(2nd Chorus)
They'll Shatter the Silence, now it's their turn to tell
It's a long way from Heaven when you're livin' in Hell
Defiance...It's time to even the score
The child grows up, he ain't silent no more
The Silence....Now it's time to be heard
It's hard stayin' quiet when you can't breathe a word
Silence...It's a two-edge sword
The child grows, he ain't silent no more.....
He ain't silent no more!....no no..
They'll Shatter the the Silence...
Shatter the Silence....(silent no more)
They'll Shatter the Silence......
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Echoes of Silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
narrow streets of cobble stone,
'Neath tha halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp,
When my eyes stabbed by the flash of neon light
that split the night and touched
The Echoes of Silence.
And in the naked light I saw
ten thousand people maybe more
People talking without speaking,
people hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
and no one dares to disturb
The Echoes of Silence.
'Fools! ' said I, 'You do not know
silence like a cancer grows
'Hear my words that I might teach you
take my arm that I might reach you.'
But my words like silent raindrops fell
and echoed in the wells of silence,
And people bowed and prayed
to the neon gods they made
And the signs flash out its warning
in the words that it was forming
And the signs said, 'The words of the prophets
are written on the subway walls
and the tenement halls' and whispered...
The Echoes of Silence.
poem by InNer WhisPers
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Silence In Battle
Shapeless shadows, in silence listening,
Deepest feelings in restraint,
A silent voice calls in mournful feeling,
We move in silence, voices faint.
Harmful silence touches the soul,
A larger loneliness laid untold,
So speak only when you must,
Infinite dread, a knife's deep thrust.
Darkness and silence lay so long,
Self control from dusk to dawn.
Awful darkness and silence reign,
Over the lifeless, barren, Iraqi plain.
Crouching down when nothing stirs,
Mysterious night, we temper her.
Rocklike hardness in our mind,
Tryant silence steals our time.
No echo sounding when I speak,
Body trembles, silence deep.
We shall remain thousands of miles away,
Uneasy silence, dreadful day.
poem by Philip Lore
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Roses Growing In Our Own Prison Walls
this is the situation,
soon you will find
you live in prison walls,
and those who see you
tell you
you have no God.
perhaps they say that
since they see no
icons on our walls
we bow not
to sunsets
we make no wooden
crosses
oh, let us tell them
we've grown roses in our prison walls
on the fertile grounds
of our heart
we speak to God
in our poetry
with all the silence and
gentleness
and patience of the
snail
we have gone beyond
wood, and stone,
and images,
we have passed through
all these walls
man-made as they are,
we have jumped over the
fences of
the flesh, and they who use
their eyes
in the middle of their own
human light
do not see
we, have, only,
hearts.
we, are, pure,
hearts.
we, are, love,
solitude,
in privacy with
our God.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sword
On the wall it hangs,
silently.
In scabbard encased.
Secure.
Secrets
What secrets might it conceal?
Courage, heroism
earned on battle's field?
Challenge?
In conflict no quarter.
Honor?
Was it never drawn with biased intent?
Silence.
Is that subtle clue to all?
Disturb not sleeping essence,
for to disrupt its peace.
Its honed edge will draw
taste, and carry blood's stain.
Sword.
On the wall it hangs,
silent, foreboding.
Symbol..., prophesy?
12Aug10
poem by Kurt Hearth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ricochets
When will you ever see?
You're killing me with the things that you say
It's all so gritty
What am I to do and do
Am I to do or do
When will you ever see?
To let it be
Don't cry
It just ricochets
Into another day
Into another day
Please try to have something to say
There'll be another day
There'll be another day
Take a look around
Your only down was the things that you say
Turn out that way
What can you ever do
What can you ever do
When no one's around
It's going down
Don't cry
It just ricochets
Into another day
Into another day
Please try to have something to say
There'll be another day
There'll be another day
Dragging me down I go my way
The ending's always near
Head underground again today
Be only you are here and
Don't cry
It just ricochets
Into another day
Into another day
Please try to have something to say
There'll be another day
There'll be another day
Don't cry
It just ricochets
Into another day
Into another day
Please try to have something to say
There'll be another day
There'll be another day
song performed by by Holly Valance
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Are The Metaphor For Me
The essence of love which I find
Writing this poem keeping you in mind.
But the words of beauty are wagging a war
The line breaks along with the love grammar
Rhyme, rhythm of heart beat
Mysterious music eyes mystic.
Spelling of smelling is a malapropism
The charm is a mesmerizing problem
The simile is the walking like a cat
Slim body is the punctuation without fat
Your arm is the connotation of warmness
Your word is an ellipsis of kindness
Your sight is the catharsis after pity
Your soul is a symbol of pure chastity
I wanted to give you this as a presentation
I could not write, please take the whole lexicon
How hard to write a poem, you see!
You are not you, you are the metaphor for me!
poem by Abdul Wahab
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A Moment Of Silence
In the middle of my room
I sat to let my soul speak
As my ears listened keenly
Silence, do not speak
My eyes tightly closed
But still saw myself
Right in-front of me
No matter what I do
I can't forget myself
Silence.....
In silent darkness,
Where I could hear a pin drop
And see tears roll down your cheeks
My heart condemned me
For misjudging and hurting you
I tender my apology...Silence
I am not a superhuman
Let this stick in your mind
With my words I will be kind
Do this to every man
Silence....please take part
Human learn to consult
Everything in silence
So your mind is alert
What can lack of silence do?
It sent Jesus to the cross!
I judged an MP out of his words!
You talked nonsense!
This time I choose silence
Try to understand my decision
If you don't understand my silence
You won't understand my words
In my silence I achieved
Love that binds all
Kindness that the blind can see
Humility that a shames the proud
Wisdom that bothers a genius
Silence...
Moostef Vosti
poem by Moostef Vosti
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