Séance ordering…
Séance ordering…
There is, there is
This ice curtain
Of silent conversation
A séance ordering…
Watch and you'll learn.
{Understanding, unspoken}…
How it works I've no idea.
I speak to her in thoughts,
Your coffee is going cold. Dear.
And then she picks it up.
I think of a Merlot red wine
Punctually the glass arrives.
I then picture a sandwich
Promptly, I'm asked.
Cheese or ham my love.
I think of a friend's name.
They're mentioned in passing…
I think soon what I shall buy.
Then it's Googled in a millisecond!
There is, there is
There is an ice curtain. Dear.
That only applies, when we speak!
poem by Mark Heathcote
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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Speak The Word
Unsettled hearts
Promise what they cant deliver
Bring me the wine
And the cold night air to clear my head
Gray matter memory house
Master of this trembling flesh
Steady still my doubts
Let me speak the word that precedes bliss
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
These weakened knees
Have not touched ground or pew in ages
I havent bowed my head
I offer thanks to any God or to ask for favors
But watch me now
Im falling down
Praying
To speak the word that precedes bliss
To speak the word
To speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A state of depression
Speak out my dear
Why hath thou in a state of depression?
Speak out my dear
I stand here waiting for thy confession
Depression is not a sign of weakness
Neither an indication of madness
I stand here not to judge you
Simply to take heed to what is true
Depression is not a crime
It only calls for love through time
Depression is a silent voice
Rooted deep inside to stop a crying noise
Speak out my dear
Why hath thou in a state of depression?
Speak out my dear
I stand here waiting for thy confession
What have you lost along the way?
Retrace your steps, I say
Who have you lost?
Take heart, everything in life must rust
What is it you want?
Grant me a permit in your hunt
But first of all let me be blunt
Condemn yourself not for your mistakes
That is what it takes for you to be awake
Life is meant to be messy and greasy
The road is not meant to be easy
Speak out my dear
Why hath thou in a state of depression?
Speak out my dear
I stand here as a friend
My compassionate heart is yours to lend
Merely to give you inspiration
And redeem you of your depression
Thus, speak out my dear!
Why hath thou in a state of depression?
Copyright 2006 - Sylvia Chidi
www.sylviachidi.com
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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0013 And, Friend...
and if you wonder, friend, why I begin
a poem thus – you are to understand
that it’s as if
we have been close friends all our life,
friends, as Kabir defined a friend
as if no-one ever tried to speak of friend before –
friends, who share the silences between their words
as much as sharing their most inward thoughts;
so, our conversation’s just as much
a continuation of our friendship,
wasting no time in speaking passing things,
sharing some new thought in turn
and asking more for listening
than easy agreement for politeness’ sake;
for, we’re listening to the allness of the all -
all that has been said and
all that cannot yet be said
but thought in silences, in pauses between speech,
all that we might say
when we find words in which to say it,
and because
there’s not much time, to say what we would say
and so, we speak of that which time
can never steal; so there is always time
to speak, and hear the silence
out of which speech comes;
listening for the unspoken
bringing miracles
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Dear Father
Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why?
You've given houses with two stories to my brothers,
And to me, a foreign land? Why dear father, why?
We (daughters) are just cows tied to your peg,
Will move on to where ever you drive us to, dear father.
We are just flower-buds of your garden,
And are asked for, in every household, dear father.
We are just birds from your cage,
Will fly off when its dawn again, dear father.
I've left at home, alcoves full of dolls;
And parted from my buddies too, dear father.
When my palanquin passed beneath the terrace,
My brother fainted and fell, dear father.
As I remove the curtain from the palanquin,
I see we've reached the beloved's house, dear father.
Why did you part me from yourself, dear father, why?
poem by Amir Khusro
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Speak Low
Kurt weill / ogden nash
Speak low when you speak, love
Our summer day withers away too soon, too soon
Speak low when you speak, love
Our moment is swift, like ships adrift, were swept apart, too soon
Speak low, darling, speak low
Love is a spark, lost in the dark too soon, too soon
I feel wherever I go that tomorrow is near, tomorrow is here and always too soon
Time is so old and love so brief
Love is pure gold and time a thief
Were late, darling, were late
The curtain descends, evrything ends too soon, too soon
I wait, darling, I wait
Will you speak low to me, speak love to me and soon
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Self-Deceit
My neighbour's curtain, well I see,
Is moving to and fin.
No doubt she's list'ning eagerly,
If I'm at home or no.
And if the jealous grudge I bore
And openly confess'd,
Is nourish'd by me as before,
Within my inmost breast.
Alas! no fancies such as these
E'er cross'd the dear child's thoughts.
I see 'tis but the ev'ning breeze
That with the curtain sports.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Greengage Jam
I'm a jar of Greengage Jam
And I'm upset because of a remark made by a man
JJ is his name, he's tall, good looking and funny
Because one day he said ‘I love the taste of sweet honey'
Well that for me is not what I expected to hear
Not when only this morning he called me ‘dear'
We would always meet for breakfast at around 8
And before he picks me up and spreads me on his plate
He'd carefully pop my top off and look inside and say ‘wow you do look yummy'
And take a mouthful with a spoon that quickly disappears in his tummy
With a smile he'd then put me on his shoulder so he could hear
These loving words - ‘thank you my dear'
But this time, before he could put me down to finish his tea
I shouted loudly - 'Marry Me, Marry Me'
To which he promptly and calmly replied - ‘let's talk about it later'
And quickly put me back in the refrigerator
Now I'm just another pot of jam left in the dark and cold
Somewhere deep at the back alongside an out-of-date cheese with lots of mould.
poem by JeanJacques Evendon
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To choose Norm Coleman over Walter Mondale is like going to a great steakhouse and ordering the tuna sandwich.
quote by Garrison Keillor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Dear Friend
you have been there for me no matter what
you have pick me up when i fall down
my dear friend
you are the reason why i am still alive
you are the reason why i can love again
because of you i have the strength to fight against enemies
you understand the pain i'm going through
you make me stand up on my feet
my dear friend
you have always there waiting for my call
you have always put a smile on my face when i feel sad
my dear friend
what would i do without you
who would i be without you
you never avoided me like everybody else
god drift us apart
we no longer see each other face again
my dear friend
everything seems different and harder when you're here
my tears are like waterfall
they keep on falling
my dear friend
please come back into my life
holding hands in the darkness
sing our favorite song until we fall asleep
my dear friend
let finish what we has started together
alone it will take years
my dear friend
you fight my fight
you got my back
my dear friend
how could i thank you
what should i do to please you
oh my dear, dear friend
it is a pleasure to have you as a friend
thank you my dear, dear friend
poem by Guenael Oristel
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A Letter to Hilary
Oh Hilary, dear Hilary;
you must not think ill of me,
though this letter be tardy,
it is mercifully short.
Oh Hilary, dear Hilary;
no metaphor or simile,
can express in mere words,
my true feelings and thoughts!
Oh Hilary, dear Hilary;
this I say, verily,
the distance between us
must not temper my view.
If I might speak of Hilary,
and of nothing ancillary:
as every day passes
I'm thinking of you!
For my love, my dear Hilary,
pumps through vein and capillary,
as my heart thumps out
it's horrible beat.
For love, my dear Hilary,
is the liqueur and distillery,
mellow, mature;
an intoxicant neat!
But if you, my dear Hilary,
would condemn me, and pillory,
a dissembler of words
and execrable verse;
then I, my dear Hilary,
would submit to your devilry,
and bravely bare up
under your terrible curse.
For love comes, my dear Hilary,
like the drum of artillery,
though it too can be vanquished
in bloody defeat.
Love comes, my dear Hilary,
not as the White Knight of chivalry,
but as a war of emotions,
both bitter and sweet.
But if, my dear Hilary,
I speak a tad too familiarly,
then you have my permission
to tear up this page.
For it is your choice, my dear Hilary,
to dismiss this as villainy,
or the ramblings of a mind
grown feeble with age!
For you, my dear Hilary,
should be paid a large salary,
to compensate truly,
for reading this tripe.
For alas, my dear Hilary,
I can only tender apology,
the worthless coin and the currency,
for this twaddle and hype!
poem by David SmithWhite
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I Hear 2
I hear that you met someone special to you
I hope that it works out
I hear that you are getting married right after high school
May the stars watch over you my dear friend
I hear that you got pregnant
May the world give them every thing they ever want.
I hear you just celebrated your 5 years anniversary
Grand grads!
I hear that your son just got into U of M
You raised him right.
I hear that you just found out you have cancer
I'm sorry my old friend. May god watch over you.
I hear you are to die at age 70
I will always be here for you. And I love you my dear old friend
poem by Joe Johnson
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O, Curtain Boy...my Curtain Boy!
i'm the stage
i'm the setting
i'm the play
i'm the actor
i'm the green room, too
but how's it you kept
the command ove the
curtain in your hands?
o, curtain boy!
my curtain boy...
don't you see
the stage's developing cracks?
the setting's getting ruined?
the lines're getting broken?
the actor's growing weary?
the greenroom floor is all smudged
with the colours of spent out emotions?
o, curtain boy...
my curtain boy!
30aug2009
00.40hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Dear friend
What you asked
My dear friend
May be it false
But I welcome.
What you asked
My dear friend
It is not necessary
To tell always
In mother tongue.
My dear friend
Foreign tongue
Only can take us
To measure space
As we know
Knowledge is power
Anf knowldge is
Not confined
Within the room
We live in.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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yes, what if God does not speak english at all?
you were not born yesterday
and probably heard it before
that if your God does not speak english
then he must not be God
of course, something arrogant
hangs in the air
of this effortless superiority that
'englishers'
'english-plongplangs'
clai m, which, of course, we
always oppose and dub
as prettry dumb silly
but anyhow, yes, we are asked again
what if?
what if, this God, does not really speak English?
well, of course, he is still God
and he must not have considered the english language
that important
and i agree, even if i speak it,
i still have this language
of my soul,
albeit, in english, for you,
who does not speak my own language,
yes, of course, for you to perhaps
understand,
but i like it though, this thought
that God does not speak
the english language, lest, he may sound
so englishly, oh well,
arrogant.....
dear God
do you really...not speak english?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Dear Friend, I Don't Love You Anymore
Dear friend
You used to care
You used to see
You used to be fair
Dear Friend
Why did't you understand?
Why didn't you take seriously
The future life we had planned
Dear friend
You have controlled enough
I must lean on my own
Becuse I am weaker then your bluff
Dear friend
Now I don't belive you
You turned away
Even though my pain you knew
Dear friend
Brocken wings don't soar
You know it's your fault
That I don't love you anymore
poem by Megan Reily
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Things I Love
I love the sun
I love lying in the sun, relaxing on a lounge
Working hard for a cold glass of sweet tea
Playing in the water, fishing in the late afternoon
I love the sun very much
But not as much as I love you
I love a glass of wine
I love a glass of red wine beside the company of a lady
Talking over the day, bathing in the winelight
Listening to soft music by a fire together
I love a glass of wine very much
But not as much as I love you
I love the words
I love forming the words into meaningful tapestries
Searching for just the right phrase, the perfect sound
Projecting what’s on my heart to you, good reader
I love the words very much
But not as much as I love you
I love the rain
I love sitting by the window, my breath fogged on the cool glass
Contemplating a quiet moment, my thoughts far away
Watering the earth to make good things grow
I love the rain very much
But not as much as I love you
I love many things
I love so many things about this life I can’t list them all
Parties, meals, a job well done, victory, cleansing tears and dogs
Small town softball games and walking along a forest trail
I love many things very much
And yet, my dear, I love you much more
poem by David Terry
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To my dear friend, who brought me back from a terrible place
A dear friend lifts you up,
brings you back from a hellish life.
A dear friend makes you smile,
even as tears stream down your face.
A dear friend shows you that life has meaning,
that your worth something and you belong.
A dear friend tells you how they care,
let you know that you are important and priceless to them.
A dear friend loves you no matter what,
no matter your imperfections or you faults.
A dear friend is always there,
to make it all better, to make your crappy day go away.
A dear friend is what everyone needs,
what everyone deserves.
A dear friend is given from God,
the greatest gift the heavens could ever give.
Thank you Buddy!
poem by Angelic Warrior
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Between Those Spoken And Unspoken
between those unspoken
and those unspoken
lies this space of my
indulgence.let my poetry speak.
it is gentle.
the unspoken hides and shies
away a little bit
like a child
his heart is always pure.
and he does not speak.
he simply comes near you
and holds your hands
looks at you and smiles.
words do not help him.
purity speaks without them.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Speak With Kindness (Or Do Not Speak At All)
speak with kindness,
or do not speak at all.
speak not of judgement,
you are not the judge.
speak not of salvation,
let your living be your scriptures.
speak not of scriptures,
let your actions be your holy book.
speak not as apostle or teacher,
speak as a human being.
speak not of god,
then god will speak through you!
speak not as a man,
for you are woman too.
speak not with hateful malice,
for love does not work that way.
speak not as a prophet or seer,
speak as compassion made flesh.
speak not of morality,
speak of connection.
speak not of authority,
the tree and the leaf have just as much.
speak not of holiness,
for all that lives be holy.
speak with kindness...
or do not speak at all!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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