Sunset (the One We Agreed Upon)
i like your sunset
flaming firmament
hues of fire, red hot iron and orange fruit combined
tasting like salt and sugar and vinegar to me
v-shaped seagulls like fighting planes
and the silence of the vast space
like i am in the library
the librarian on sick leave
and all the books are taken
did i forget the flavor?
(remember we agree on a poem with a color, taste, sound, smell
and whatever)
vanilla, and the sound, i already told you,
pssst, silence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
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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a Poem Of Silence
Silence is a beautiful thing.
no other sound is as great as silence.
Silence is the sound of nothing,
but it is still a sound.
even if a sound is great and amazing,
nothing can top the blissfulness of silence.
not the sound of wind on grass,
not the sound of laughter,
nothing is as beautiful as silence.
silence is a sound, but it is so much
better than any other sound.
What created such a far-off winner?
I love silence, silence is the best.
Never there will be a time that there
will be
a greater sound
than silence.
poem by Llew N. Rmail
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The Sound Of Silence....
it speaks no words,
yet they fall on the soul..
quietly falls on the heart so heavy,
pain wrapped, the words of silence....
filth and grime,
pure and honest,
the words do a medley of sorts,
ever felt the sound of silence..
the world pulls down,
the dust seems sticking,
tears entrapped in the soul,
commotion in the worldly shows.
what's life? regret, remorse..
the dull light always burning,
resonating from inside,
try listening, the sound of silence...
the voice screams,
it brings the truth,
momentarily, the pain halts,
with the tasting of the salt.
ironical the world is,
contradiction filled...
sounds stupid, but true,
the sound of silence...
befriend silence,
redemption u find...
the lost answers,
u will find.
sound, so enthralling,
sound, so enigmatic..
yet so healing, , ,
the sound of silence..
poem by Nupur Singhal
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The Lovely Encounter
if you could only see what
i have seen as i try to write these lines
how many times have i told you
about seeing love and then
writing about it?
love is not just an idea
there is flesh, younger flesh on strong bones
there is that softness of the hair
the scent of magnolias
there is this sound of the sea breeze
there is color like the yellowness of the fabric
that covers desire
there is this taste of a little salt from the sea
the sweetness of cherry
and the flavor of rum and
the sound of a hum
if you could only see what i see and feel and taste and touch
what i have here beside me
i know you
shall forget writing these lines
... you shall write everything about all these
after.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Silence of the Library
the silence of a library
it is the weight of knowledge
on the axis of the mind
waiting to swing into action
the silence of the library
each brain negotiates a path
through the written words where
the tjhoughts of great men flow
the silence of the library
a section of the books
that has gathered dust waits
for a life to be put into them
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Silence is a poem
Silence is a poem, not a prose.
One sound of silence rhymes with
Every other sound of Silence.
Silence is a poem.
poem by Alexander Nevzorov
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The poem is reading in my head
Silence, except for the poem
The poem is reading in my head
I can make it stop, for a while
Then it starts again
I can jump onto the words
And for a time I ride the line
Then dropping off I stand and watch
as the poem goes rolling by
The poem has broken colours
Bits of sound and not much shape
And suddenly I am in tears
I have to look away and wait
Finally there is silence
Full fat voluptuous silence
Except, except for the poem
poem by Sean Joyce
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Full fat voluptuous silence
Silence
Except for the poem
The poem is reading in my head
I can make it stop, for a while
Then it starts again
I can jump onto the words
And for a time I ride the line
Then dropping off I stand and watch
as the poem goes rolling by
The poem has broken colours
Bits of sound and not much shape
And suddenly I am in tears
I have to look away and wait
Finally there is silence
Full fat voluptuous silence
Except
Except for the poem
poem by Sean Joyce
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Silence
I got a feeling
Everything's gonna be alright
And I still find my way
And I heard
It's always darkest before the storm
So come on let it rain
Everything was different when I was seventeen
The world was so much brighter
Now I finally found the truth
Of what they hid for me
That world was so much kinder
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Is what it is
By my own choice
I believe
That we were meant to learn from our mistakes
And stumble along the way
Now I know
That people are gonna grap what they can take
Then just turn away
Everybody's searching
But no one really knows the truth
The world is upside down
What it's all about right now
Will soon turn to gray
Their promises have faded
Silence
Silence
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Is what it is
By my own choice
All my little merry friends
Have turned their backs on me
Excuse me if I'm jaded
I'm so tired of people telling me
How it should be
Their promises have faded
Silence
Silence
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Is what it is
By my own choice
Silence
song performed by by Tiffany
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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Rumi's silence
Rumi wrote much about silence.
Does that seem strange?
Poets live with silence:
the silence before the poem;
the silence whence the poem comes; .
the silence in between the words, as you
drink the words, watch them glide through your mind,
feel them slide down your throat
towards your heart;
the silence which you share with the poet
when the poem ends, sitting side by side,
feeling one another being one heart;
the silence after the poem,
when you are a different person
from the person who started reading the poem,
think differently, move differently,
act differently; know Rumi a little better
as a friend; know yourself a little more
as a friend.
Rumi was asked, why do you
talk, talk, talk, so much
about silence?
He said, the radiant one inside me
has said nothing.
And that’s the silence which we listen to
and hear in Rumi’s heart,
here, sitting in the cool shade
which the scent of roses seems to love,
while the fountain gently plays like a poet
with sound and silence.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Timeless....
timeless...
the smell of fresh cut grass,
the taste of sweat on a lovers neck.
the sound the shovels make
filling the grave,
and the moment just before
when life fled into the sunset.
the burnt fringe of the letter
you saved from the fire.
the echoes of passion...
in a box in the closet.
the silence just after
the guns stopped firing,
just before the world found its way!
the spoon in the bowl,
and the peace in the stomach.
the blanket, the fire,
shelter for the night.
the whisper you hear
when only god could be talking,
the prayer of the wind,
the lantern, the bridge!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Silence Too Sounds
In a world where sound reigns,
And an era where sound adorns,
Seldom silence too sounds,
Even without a single wave formed,
Conveying everything even untold,
One among the unlimited expressions of nature,
A reliable expression for every creature,
Silence of breeze a matter of exaggeration for poets,
Even silence of the Last Prophet makes a solid statement for the believers,
Statue of Buddha in silence revealing peace and non violence,
Prayers to the God revivifying it into spirits in silence,
Tajmahal unveiling its majesty and magnificence,
While alone on a full moon night, in silence,
So at times silence angelic,
Sometimes terrific,
While in a graveyard or on the Day of Judgment,
At times tragic, when kept mum against,
the evils and vicious around by…
Doesn’t silence sound well….? Reciprocate at least in a sigh.
poem by Mohammed Suhail
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Open Book's Monologue Part 5: Welcome To The Library!
Welcome to the library! come one come all
Welcome to the library! come with your brethren on this wall
Welcome to the library! come all you books tattered or new
Welcome to the library! come tired and overdue
Yes welcome to the library the place where you're most mundane
Yes welcome to the library the place where you're to endure most pain
Yes welcome to the library where you'll sit unwanted
Yes welcome to the library where you'll sit haunted
Yes welcome to the library where everyone's just like you
Yes welcome to the library where we're all books too!
Yes welcome to the library where you can take comfort
Yes welcome to the library where In the fact you're no longer unique
Yes welcome to the library You're just pen marks ink
Departing the library? I think not, even if you get out we'll bring you back
Departing the library? Here you rot, but we'll dust you to ease your passing
Departing the library? Don't make me laugh, here you're black and white
Departing the library? Nobody argues on your behalf, look more amassing
Welcome to the library! A place of keeping and safety
Welcome to the library! Take your place you'll like it, just wait and see
Welcome to the library! New books don't mind the old they're disillusioned
Welcome to the library! You've sold your soul... but it's too late for you
so WELCOME
poem by David Knox
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Everyone's Tasting Fire
Catching fire in my throat
As I leave this place
The bitter taste of it stings my words
But then everyone’s tasting fire
And higher
And higher we go
We learn as we go
The bitter taste of it stings our words
Everyone’s tasting fire
And higher
And higher we go
We learn as we go
The bitter taste of it stings our words
Everyone’s tasting fire
And there’s no sympathy
Cause we’re all
In the same place
Same place
Everyone’s tasting fire
And higher
And higher we go
We learn as we go
Everyone’s tasting fire
No water
Coming to save our lives
Like it was
Almost perfect
Before
Everyone’s tasting fire
And higher
And higher we go
We learn as we go
Everyone was tasting fire
And higher
And higher we went
We learned as we went
That everyone’s tasting fire
And higher
And higher we go
We learn as we go
But if everyone’s tasting fire
Then who’s gonna get the water?
Everyone’s tasting fire
And higher
Who’s gonna get the water?
Everyone’s tasting fire
And higher
And higher
And everyone’s tasting fire
But if everyone’s tasting fire
Then who’s gonna get the water?
Silent Sound
What is the sound of silence?
-the Colorado Plateau-
-desert alive-
Quietly hear
The color red
Land
The Anasazi southern sun
Native blood
Peace
That surpasses all understanding
Beauty in
Rocks (slick and hushed)
Birds (serene and high)
Plants (sustaining and swaying, quietly)
Sky and clouds (inaudible and covering all)
- Life then, now, always
Soft sweet reassurance
Wind whispers of
Endless, eternal echoes,
Ancient singing.
Silent sound is
Sight
Smell
Sensations- all
Simple and sublime...
The sound of sweet silence is
The removal of distractions,
Is the peacable
SouthWest desert.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Profound Is the Sound of Silence
Profound is the sound of silence.
The acceptance of its presence,
Is immediate and welcomed.
Profound is the sound of silence.
The calmness of it is irresistable.
It seems to magnify in power.
Profound is the sound of silence.
So much when it arrives can be accomplished.
And so appreciated it is when it comes and gives.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Marvin T.
so what is the color of your sky Marvin?
pink blue?
flaming green?
what is the flavor of your language?
strawberry words
apple phrases
newly fried tomatoes as paragraphs
of your letter
to papa?
ah, the skies Marvin need not be blue
or white as most people want to see them
or as what they claim to be for all
those solidifying years
Marvin, the skies were crazy violet
flaming hues of red trees
it is how we want them
and not them to want us
so tomorrow what will be the color of the sea Marvin?
why not try the stone gray ones?
or turquoise? or saffron?
a sea of daffodils
an ocean of magnolias
an island of vanilla ice cream
anything goes really
in this free world
ah, do not be a turn off
be glad, you are young and beautiful and free
mothers at first may junk you
as fathers always do to their sons
breaking the rules
of the masculine game
but Marvin, take note
you are you and there is no other you
you're so far
the best because you are the freest
of them all
latest dragon
fly sticking all its feet
on the syrups of the
nectar.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Why the silence?
Why the silence? Is it the hour of sunset?
Or the eyes may straggle and it's the hour of dreams
Or the mind may have been displaced and it's hour of reflections
Or the heart has been busy and it's hour of the groans
Why the silence? Is it the hour of sunset?
Or the words have got lost in the midst of ideas
Or silence now become the language of the times
Or the tongue tie with a sunset
Why the silence? Is it the hour of sunset?
Or now no need for my presence
Or now I am a hidden friend
Or now I am not who I was
Why the silence? Is it the hour of sunset?
Or... And the story continue silently
poem by Mohammed AlBalushi
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Silence Echos
Silence
makes my heart break
Silence
Love, does not make
Silence
Was it all just a terrible mistake?
Silence
Was love just a game, just fake?
Silence
Leaves me heartbroken
Silence
Kills he feeling behind words unspoken
Silence
has is a shield you hide behind
Silence
Guards what's on your mind
Silence
Chills your heart's sound
Silence
Love cannot silently be found
Silence
has turned your dreams blind
Silence
is darkness in which you cannot find
Silence
Crushes the hopeful feelings that were kind
Silence
Of emptiness it did remind
Silence
Silence took all I sought to find
Silence
Silence was hurtful and unkind
Silence
Will kill love before it ripens on the vine
Love will go silently
But it's lonely hurt will echo for all time
poem by James T. Adair
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