Brevity
Where leaves abound, much fruit is rarely found,
When words are more, finding much sense is hard,
As when nuggets are dug up from the ground,
Dross makes mountains, while gold yields but a shard;
We laud marksmen, when hitting with less shots,
Deftness as gauged in thrift of bullets spared,
So too, with speech of few words saying lots,
Whereby hearing, we know how well it fared;
Do nicer things, with less, make beauty be?
Like comely girl with shortened speech and dress?
But one is mute when there's nothing to say,
The way silence of sages would impress;
.......Like nudity, a curt fashion statement,
.......Of those who dared to say: 'Please No Comment.'
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Related quotes
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
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Words are like leaves and where they most abound, Much fruit of sense beneath is rarely found.
quote by Alexander Pope
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Speeeeeech!
does it make difference you speak in front of many people or alone
does it make difference you speech in historic place or in your toilet
does it make difference you are charismatic leader or unknown beggar from streetside
it makes difference you speak to clash conflict or for better world
it makes difference you speech bonded by past or to move forward
it makes difference you depend by fact or just soap service
does it make difference you read from text or speak fluently
does it make difference you speech in busy market or deserted mountain
does it make difference you write words yourself or scrap it from books and paper
it makes difference everybody exitedly listens or sleeps peacefully on their seats
it makes difference you have freedom to speak or prisoned by intimidation
it makes difference it gives effect or just a long boring speech
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Shots
Shots
Ringing all along the borders can be heard
Striking out like a venom in the sky
Cutting through the air faster than a bird
In the night.
Children
Are lost in the sand, building roads with little hands
Trying to join their fathers castles together again
Will they make it? who knows where or when
Old wounds will mend?
Machines
Are winding their way along, looking strong
Building roads and bringing back loads and loads
Of building materials
In the night
Men
Are trying to move the borders on the ground
Lines between the different spots that each has found
But back home another scene was going down
In the night.
Lust
Comes creepin through the night to feed on hearts
Of suburban wives who learned to pretend
When they met their dreams end
In the night.
Shots
I hear shots, I keep hearing shots
I keep hearing shots
I hear shots.
Shots
I hear shots, I keep hearing shots
I keep hearing shots
I hear shots.
But Ill never use your love,
You know Im not that kind
And so if you give your heart away
I promise to you
Whatever we do
That I will always be true.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words Again
Thoughts can be words, can be flowers that burgeon like words,
Thunders that are right in the middle of happiness,
Ones that make talk with books and with all speaking sense.
The sounds are not anywhere near us,
Yet the word can believe in living free,
Where actions cannot, and nor can thoughts necessarily.
We work on the words of leaders like listening is,
When speech is hazardous and non-wrong,
And liars can speak offensively, like a long long wrong.
Speech is therefore recommended in the form of words,
Of dementia I give word not or word obvious,
But of sound advice for any goodness to come and seize.
Deceased are the word-lovers as much as fences are put up,
As if the sea is given a status that delves too deep
Of words, and it is funny how many words that there are.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Silence Is Not Enough
SILENCE IS NOT ENOUGH
Silence is not enough
The human needs words and sentences
Speech and meaning
Silence and waiting in silence
And loving silence so much
Are not enough
Even the longest silence is not enough
We need to speak to another person
We need human hearing
Living in the silence of our own lost selves is not enough
We need to be heard and be listened to
And to speak in a world where there are listeners
Who know how to reply.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Power Of Silence
In silence the flower buds gently bloom,
In silence they waft their sweet perfume.
In silence grows the blades of grass,
In silence I pen down my verse.
Speech is silver, silence gold,
Good deeds silently performed,
Is more eloquent than words!
In silence lovers cuddle and sleep,
True love communicates through
oceans deep!
Look at the mountains towering so high,
Clouds kiss their tops and silently
float by!
In silence the monks move their prayer
beads,
In silence they perform their charitable deeds.
In silence the sun rises and shine,
In silence the moon beams softly smiles.
In silence my God I invoke,
In silence rise my incense smoke.
In silence my inner-self unfolds,
In silent prayer my hands I fold.
In silence, with Him I communicate,
In silence I surrender to my fate.
In silence I beg Him to make me whole,
In silence to Him I surrender my soul!
In our noise polluted world, silence is
difficult to find,
But I know, one day, this Silence shall be
mine!
i teach my child by G. Abad
I.
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
They are hardest to learn.
Words like home,
Or friend, or to forgive.
These words are relations.
They are difficult to bear;
Their fruits are unseen.
Or words that promise
Or dream.
Words like honor, or certainty,
Or cheer.
Rarest of sound,
Their roots run deep;
These are words that aspire,
They cast no shade.
These are not words
To speak.
These are the words
Of which we consist,
Indefinite,
Without other ground.
II.
My child
Is without syllables
To utter him,
Captive yet to his origin
In silence.
By every word
To rule his space,
He is released;
He is shaped by his speech.
Every act, too,
Is first without words.
There's no rehearsal
To adjust your deed
From direction of its words.
The words are given,
But there's no script.
Their play is hidden,
We are their stage.
These are the words
That offer to our care
Both sky and earth,
These same words
That may elude our acts.
If we speak them
But cannot meet their sound,
They strand us still
In our void,
Blank like the child
With the uphill silence
Of his words' climb.
And so,
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Boy/girl
Boy-girl, boy-girl
When a boy meets a girl
Boy-girl
Finding out
Im finding out the things
That Ive been talking about
Im finding all the things
That Ive been missing out
Finding all the things
I lose my mind
Sometimes fall behind
You and I we live on the big ship
And time goes by
You make up and I believe a ladys lie
The skinheads call it strawberries and cream
Sometimes I scream
Boy-girl, boy-girl
When a boy meets a girl
Boy-girl
We go out
A picture or a disco or a roundabout
I walk you home, I hold you there
Youre giving out
I open doors so I can shut your face
Know your place
Boy-girl, boy-girl
When a boy meets a girl
Boy-girl
You can take me in your hand
Stand back, leave me, come in
Up and down and all around
You will sideways to the ground
Boy-girl, boy-girl
When a boy meets a girl
[repeat until end]
song performed by by U2
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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238
i teach my child by G. Abad
I.
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
They are hardest to learn.
Words like home,
Or friend, or to forgive.
These words are relations.
They are difficult to bear;
Their fruits are unseen.
Or words that promise
Or dream.
Words like honor, or certainty,
Or cheer.
Rarest of sound,
Their roots run deep;
These are words that aspire,
They cast no shade.
These are not words
To speak.
These are the words
Of which we consist,
Indefinite,
Without other ground.
II.
My child
Is without syllables
To utter him,
Captive yet to his origin
In silence.
By every word
To rule his space,
He is released;
He is shaped by his speech.
Every act, too,
Is first without words.
There's no rehearsal
To adjust your deed
From direction of its words.
The words are given,
But there's no script.
Their play is hidden,
We are their stage.
These are the words
That offer to our care
Both sky and earth,
These same words
That may elude our acts.
If we speak them
But cannot meet their sound,
They strand us still
In our void,
Blank like the child
With the uphill silence
Of his words' climb.
And so,
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Xx
And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
The love I bear thee, finding words enough,
And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough,
Between our faces, to cast light on each ?--
I drop it at thy feet. I cannot teach
My hand to hold my spirit so far off
From myself--me--that I should bring thee proof
In words, of love hid in me out of reach.
Nay, let the silence of my womanhood
Commend my woman-love to thy belief,--
Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed,
And rend the garment of my life, in brief,
By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,
Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Sonnet XIII: And Wilt Thou Have Me
And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
The love I bear thee, finding words enough,
And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough,
Between our faces, to cast light upon each?
I drop it at thy feet. I cannot teach
My hand to hold my spirit so far off
From myself.. me.. that I should bring thee proof,
In words of love hid in me...out of reach.
Nay, let the silence of my womanhood
Commend my woman-love to thy belief,
Seeing that I stand unwon (however wooed)
And rend the garment of my life in brief
By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,
Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Sonnet XIII
And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
The love I bear thee, finding words enough,
And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough,
Between our faces, to cast light on each ?--
I drop it at thy feet. I cannot teach
My hand to hold my spirit so far off
From myself--me--that I should bring thee proof
In words, of love hid in me out of reach.
Nay, let the silence of my womanhood
Commend my woman-love to thy belief,--
Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed,
And rend the garment of my life, in brief,
By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,
Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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The Talk Show Circuit
A blue suit with short hair
Speaking empty speech
To a tanned girl
With long legs and a beautiful mouth
A gray suit with gray hair
Speaking empty speech
To a fair skinned girl
With sexy hips and cherry red lips
A black suit with a pink tie
Speaking empty speech
To a Latin girl
In a green dress with lovely breasts
A pinstriped suit with a silver tie
Speaking empty speech
To an Asian girl
With rosy cheeks and perfect knees
…Too much television
© J. James Martinez
poem by J. James Martinez
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Words Woven - Parody Mary BEULEY - Words Woven
Words woven into speech
soon reach
intact thread spirit of each act,
knit warp and weft of wit wish fact,
dreams' tapestry may teach.
Words express essentials,
transmit, unwind
from mind to mind,
address ideas which, blind,
would grope for means to equate
sensations refined,
coarse, sophisticate.
Thus they incarnate
emotion's multi coloured coat, pattern twist
around ideas which form,
unform,
inform or disinform,
or take by storm
precisely or by gist
the geist soul kissed.
Words woven into speech
pen hand,
when scanned
from thoughts’ life blood leach
emotions, sense, dressed to suit
points phallic and points mute,
ideo-grand!
© Jonathan Robin Parody Mary BEULEY 1837_1916 written 12 December 1995 – Words Woven revised 31 July 2008 notably first verse below
Words woven into speech
soon reach
to knit the spirit of each act,
the warp and weft of every fact,
through dreams to teach.
______________
Words Woven
Words woven into rhyme
In time
Become a tapestry of thought
A canvas of experience in which
Our dreams are wrought.
Words are the evidence of what goes on
communicate
Within the mind.
They clothe the invisible
With robes of speech,
Sophisticated as silk,
Homespun as hessian,
And in between
The many-patterned, many-textured range,
Familiar and strange,
Of words -
Woven and dyed and spun
For Fun
Or seriously aware
Of what is there.
Words woven into rhyme
Or prose
Transpose
Giving the tiny embryo of thought
A dress to wear, most delicately wrought,
And caught for ever in a form know
And understand.
Mary BEULEY 1837_1916
© Jonathan Robin Parody Mary BEULEY written 12 December 1995
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sapphire Bullets Of Pure Love
Pistol shots
Gun shots
Pistol shots
Gun shots
Bullets from a revolver
Bullets from a gun
Bullets through the atmosphere
Here they come
John, Ive been bad
And theyre coming after me
Done someone wrong
And I fear that it was me
Sapphire bullets
Bullets of pure love
Sapphire bullets
Bullets of pure love
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 13 - And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
XIII
And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
The love I bear thee, finding words enough,
And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough,
Between our faces, to cast light on each?—
I drop it at thy feet. I cannot teach
My hand to hold my spirit so far off
From myself—me—that I should bring thee proof
In words, of love hid in me out of reach.
Nay, let the silence of my womanhood
Commend my woman-love to thy belief,—
Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed,
And rend the garment of my life, in brief,
By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude,
Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Skilful Doctor
Function if you are enough skill,
Or work on nobody in front of you.
The words dawdle the air as you speak,
We have understood them now for you speak.
This palaver describes my speech as solid,
Liquids do run thick, liquify your body.
Overpowering speech is a collection of words
Promulgating action and acts of speech as well.
This policy has remained since the weather
Changed last week, lasting peace has remained.
We are authority, we have skills no person retains,
Both us and you are learned in doctoring.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Unspoken Words
Words will never convey my thoughts
What I so want to say to her
It often leaves me overwrought
My mind becomes a hopeless blur.
Her comely grace and pleasing eyes
Her sweet amicability
Leaves me goggle-eyed and tongue-tied
when I look upon her beauty.
At home I think up words to say
Articulating syllables
Spoken in a well mannered way
But deem them unacceptable.
The hardest thing for me to do
Is utter three words, “I love you.”
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Oh Words Of A Poem
OH WORDS OF A POEM
Oh words of a poem
Oh wondrous being-
Oh meaning made by my mind alone-
Oh kindness of words-
Oh gift in their music-
Oh beauty of speech-
Oh words of a poem-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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