The Quiet Observer
The quiet observer hides in empty corners
at the edge of silence
She intrudes on isolation
climbing over walls of solitude
emerging from the abyss of the soul
At awakenings awkward moment...
she plunges from societal grace into unknown heavens
poem by Lisa Visor
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Solitude, Singing
Being alone is knowing
That in in this solitary splendour
Solitude, stark and staring,
Solitude, singing a lullaby
Solitude, singing a dirge
Surrounded by so many sundry things;
Things seen and unseen
Factors known and unknown
Solitude singing softly, chanting without ranting
Solitude’s songs that sing of solemn things
Silence singing golden songs
Silence healing ancient wrongs
If only silence could be
More than a memory
More than history
Silence can be more than words
Empty words echoing in an empty world
Echoing in empty valleys
Silence unspoken, unspoken, unbroken
Transfixed by time.
poem by Rani Turton
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Voice
Quiet, that time before dawn;
A moment betwixt night and day
Just before the sun cracks the horizon
To flood the earth with light.
Before the first birds sing their morning praise.
A time of silence and contemplation,
Before the bustle of the day intrudes
And shatters its passing beauty,
For in that moment if you listen close
So faint upon the trembling air,
So quietly and gently spoke
You may hear the creator's voice.
poem by Paul Brookes
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A Prison of Solitude
A prison of solitude
To which I am thrown
The empty walls and rooms
The soundless corridors
The drawn-out night
What madness grows here
That no other does see
How lonely I find
The sleepless bed
The loveless air
The void of conversation
The dying romance of the candle
This isolation
This so complete nothingness
I am kept at distance
From a world I do not know
In this place of madness
A prison of solitude
To which I have been thrown
poem by Matthew Holloway
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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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Cain
The delicate action of grace in the soul is profoundly disturbed by all human violence. Passion, when it is inordinate, does violence to the spirit and its most dangerous violence is that in which we seem to find peace. Violence is not completely fatal until it ceases to disturb us. Thomas Merton. Thoughts in Solitude.
Like a delicate wind
your grace shaped my infant soul
filled my emptiness
with angelic form
and I was beautiful
and good
until, jealous for your love,
I slew my brother.
Now I fear the abyss
that opens beneath me
the grave
of my sin-withered soul.
and to you I pray
forgive me! bring me back
from the numbing peace
of careless, empty
days!
poem by Steven Federle
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The lonesome walls
The lonesome walls
~
It shows me no mercy
No care or thought given
Just the empty walls about me
And the silence which fills them
All thoughts are a dream
A prelude to some fantasy
That may never come to pass
How alone I feel this night
My heart beats heavy
Although there is no care
I have seen from this world
Just the lonely, the empty nights
And passions burn to excite
Each fanciful dream
In the quiet and empty hour
There is no mercy shown
No care or thought given
Just the empty wall about me
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Snatching solitude
Snatching solitude from sleep
For a few wakeful hours, to reclaim myself
From the web of relationships that define us
And the responsibilities that dictate our days
Now that isn’t such a wise thing!
Doctors often say, while they tend to the heart
As an organ, rarely seeing the soul
That needs mending too
But now that stillness overcomes hurtling day
I tend to my temple
That stands with windows open
Welcoming new winds from o’er the land
That quiet corner is my favourite place
Where a candle glows, softly
Lighting up dark corners, and freeing my spirit
To commune with the vastness beyond
Sometimes a quiet whisper holds clues
To a story yet to unfold, while at others
The quiet holds me in a warm embrace
While I snatch solitude from sleep.
poem by Anita Atina
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Your Heart Is So Sad
Your heart is so painful and sad,
You can’t find any consolation,
Things seem to be hopeless and bad,
Everything you need is isolation…
But your soul likes the sweet silence
When it leaves all the joys of the world.
Your tired thoughts try to find balance,
The air still remains undisturbed…
You are grateful for the blessed moment
And despise everything except the holy peace.
Your sad heart is serene and patient,
Your soul fills with God’s grace and bliss…
poem by Jolanta Gradowicz
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The Forlorn Heart
Alone in the company of myself
How the walls seem ghostly quiet
Thoughts drift to a romance broken
The girl that never was or could not be
Stay my tongue lest I speak ill of love
The words of a broken heart are fierce
And sharp as any blade ever known
Cutting into the depths of the soul
The silence of the night haunting
And I alone mourn my own heart
What love, what girl I shall not name
For it pains to speak such words
And these walls, empty as they are
Have become my tomb, farewell love
Alone with a broken heart I yield
That which I was never to know
Were I a greater man than I
How would my own company stand
Would I know it alone at all
Would I know these ghostly walls
As I know too well my heart
My loves sad quiet demise
The forlorn heart exists
Where there is only myself and I
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Defining The Kind Of Silence He Needs
it is like the silence of an empty room
not keeping anything
not holding
not gripping hands
or gnashing teeth
the windows are not closed
or the doors
to keep a hounding silence
it is a silence with still air
you hear me breathing in
and out
of my nostrils
nothing kept like grudges
nothing hidden like
some disappointments
it is the silence that heals
that gathers strength
the silence of your gratitude
the silence that rests
the silence
of the soul in solitude
the silence of peace
one that looks out
to the grandeur yet to come
one that waits patiently
the silence of
glory
godlike
humane, and seeks to understand
the one that drives
confusion away
like a bird
nesting its eggs for days
on a stable branch
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Climbing Up The Walls (Zero 7 Mix)
I am the key to the lock in your house
that keeps your toys in the basement,
and if you get too far inside
you'll only see my reflection.
See her face when she sleeps tonight,
I am the pick in the ice,
do not cry out or hit the alarm,
we are we're friends till we die.
And either way you turn I'll be there,
open up your skull, I'll be there
climbing up the walls.
It's always best when the light is off,
it's always better on the outside,
in the crack of your wanting smile,
fifteen blows to the skull.
So tuck the kids in safe tonight,
and shut the eyes in the cupboard.
do not cry out or hit the alarm,
you'll get the loneliest feeling
that either way you turn I'll be there,
open up your skull, I'll be there
climbing up the walls.
Climbing up the walls.
Climbing up the walls
song performed by by Radiohead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silence of Rumi
I read Rumi several times
And every time I went through
the same sincere silence
That unites the human with the divine
Silence of Rumi as though
Is the silence Sublime—
The heart of all sounds!
I dove deep down that silence,
A child’s wonder of sort
Why do I start my poems with words?
When they end only with silence!
His silence is deep
Deep as the existence at the bottom of the ocean
Deep as the calmness of a wise man
And yet he is in conversation
With the silence
And through it, time and again
His silence is the silence of a flute
Empty, easy and melodious
It turns separation into liberation
Oh what a joy—Rumi’s silence!
His silence is an invitation
To join the journey of the soul
A sweet beacon to lose yourself
In the Self of existence
And yet it is conversational
You can toy with it safely
Who can turn his back
Having heard Rumi’s silence
In its sincerity
In its entirety
Who can escape from Rumi’s silence
Having been there for a moment
Who can not hear his silence
Having heard it with the thumps of his heart
Oh love! Go and meet this evening
Silence of Rumi in its serenity
Of heavens
This must be the highest
Of souls
This is the highest!
poem by Bhaswat Chakraborty
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Isolation
Pop/bowie
Needed you, you were only using
Needing you just tore me down
And here I stand in isolation
Feeling emptiness and doubt
Walking down the broken highway
Sucking sugar plain and sweet
Did your mother ever tell you
That the joyful are free
I need some lovin
Like an inmate needs a dime
I need some lovin
Like a poet needs a rhyme
Here I stand in isolation
My empty hands in isolation
Walking down the broken highway
Sucking sugar cause its my way
Find me one heart to complete with
Heading for the farthest reaches
I need some lovin
Like a body needs a soul
I need some lovin
Like a fastball needs control
Here I stand in isolation
My empty hands in isolation
Strike up the band
In this proud land
Got a lot to do
Got a lot to say
Got a life to live
Here I stand-
In isolation
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Ride my Elevator Alone
I ride my elevator alone. What an awkward silence it is to be alone.
I alone, with my soul and thoughts.
I alone, in the misty dust.
Second floor, third floor, and back to the beginning.
I ride my elevator alone, but then God steps in.
There in an awkward silence.
Silence.
Pure remorse.
All in the emptiness and the calamity of my own soul.
Alone, in the emptiness of my heart.
Alone, he looks; alone he stares, alone he wonders, and really cares.
Third floor, second, fifth, sixth, and seventh.
Alone.
Alone.
In the vast destruction of a holly oath.
It stops.
I am alone.
Truly, I ride alone, but the sound persists.
I can hear the silent voice of sin.
It incites me, it will not desist.
Alone?
My silence, despair, agony, and regret. I am sorry we are all alone.
poem by Blanca Rocha
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A heart chanced
A heart chanced
~
A heart chanced once more
After years of silent solitude
Met only silence in its asking
And wept into a quiet nothing
A pride and strength deflated
The hope which fed each word
Broken like the dream left behind
The memories of past heartbreak
Revoked in this new silence
A question asked, regretted
A belief chanced, lost
The simple words spoken
Honest and gently thought
Fall into a quiet silence
A solitude of reply
To the heart which fought
To believe and chance again
Sits sadly quietly weeping
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The One Escape
Seven feet high.
Five feet across.
Infinite room to die.
The walls will keep you safe from the others
The almighty warden claims.
But am I afraid of the others?
Prisoners may be able to contort me, but
Prisoners can’t fill my soul with pains.
Prisoners can’t crush my heart with chains.
Why are prisoners so silent when the lights fade, you ask?
Isolation
Isolation that prickles your neck at night
Isolation that makes the darkness bite.
Screaming bounces off of the impenetrable walls of isolation,
And it hits you.
Echoes haunt your head
And the memories of not wanting to feel dead,
Disappear.
The bars
And the walls
And the dark
Erode your life.
How can you escape?
There is only
One
Way
Out
And it satisfies the walls
The grim reaper holds the ticket
His ticket leads out of the bars
And into the bright
Into the light
Pit of eternity.
The stone walls seem dreadfully close tonight
And this rope around my neck feels tight
This cold loneliness, my heart is full of it.
And I think I see the reaper with my ticket…
VOICES ON THE EDGE OF THE WORLD (in honour of my fellow poets)
It is how we are and who we are
that we live out here on the edge
the ragged rim of the world
It’s the nature of our vice
This dark self imposed isolation
Yet the paradox in it shines bright
As the isolation bears heavy
upon our pale and brittle skin
for unless we share our souls
there is but dust in what we do
Each staking a separate claim
along the river of the golden muse
and each naked in hand and heart
bares the working of a soul
tasting the ice in the edges isolation
yet from each site along the rim
the voices of comfort and support
and a song becomes an anthem
so into each isolation a warm voice
‘We know, we understand we’re here’
poem by Bill Mitton
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Isolation
In fear every day, every evening,
He calls her aloud from above,
Carefully watched for a reason,
Painstaking devotion and love,
Surrendered to self preservation,
From others who care for themselves.
A blindness that touches perfection,
But hurts just like anything else.
Isolation, isolation, isolation.
Mother I tried please believe me,
I'm doing the best that I can.
I'm ashamed of the things I've been put through,
I'm ashamed of the person I am.
Isolation, isolation, isolation.
But if you could just see the beauty,
These things I could never describe,
These pleasures a wayward distraction,
This is my one lucky prize
Isolation, isolation, Isolation, isolation, isolation.
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love Hides
Yeah
Love hides in the strangest places.
Love hides in familiar faces.
Love comes when you least expect it.
Love hides in narrow corners.
Love comes to those who seek it.
Love hides inside the rainbow.
Love hides in molecular structures.
Love is the answer.
song performed by by Doors
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Dying Soul.
There' on solitude,
Wounded by their windy deeds of jealousy,
Wounded by their windy deeds of treasures,
Thought there' in plays,
But not of vivid terms of picture,
There' on solitude,
But not of there ways in picture,
There' on solitude,
Gone too far,
Gone in the physical,
Gone from the midst!
They w'll not understand!
For though it's difficult and must say,
I know them too well,
Ecclesiastes, Proverbs, and Wisdom of Solomon,
They shall tried but not of the callers,
Testifiers of life i called,
Peharps, witnesses of mind.
There' on solitude,
Appealing a rescue,
For they in everywhere want,
Begging to have by force,
They are not dumbed,
They speaks but very silence,
Fear to surrender,
Fear for their deciet of confusion,
For they are liars everywhere,
For they are killers of no accusation,
What to do,
In this windy treasures of their powers,
Death preferably?
For i know it well,
Days and nights,
Thanks his grace,
His grace of been a being of days,
For they knows that he knows,
A prophet in class,
A dying soul.
poem by Bunmi Orogun Samuel
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