Best Quietly Poems
you’re so quiet,
it’s so quiet when you come,
around here,
sometimes worried that you’ll leave me,
nowhere,
or here on the lounge,
not sure if there’s a difference,
be gentle yeah,
be,
gentle now,
the space between my heart’s,
beats,
gets,
smaller,
and i breathe a breath,
a little faster,
now,
the questions aren’t, isn’t,
if or how,
no what’s,
or when’s
cause it’s here and now,
and i look at your eyes for a clue
and your mouth for a sound,
do you, want to be,
around?,
i’m not sure if i care if you do or don’t,
because right,
right now,
you and i is what we’ve seemed to have found,
so plant a seed in my chest,
and look at me, like i look at you,
i think that’s all i really need,
right now, all you really need to do,
what do you think?,
is there something that you think you’ve got to prove?,
My racing heart through silence seeps
a pitter-pattered tempo keeps
while all the world about me sleeps
so quietly in the night.
I sense a ghastly ghoul creep
a lurid wretch my conscious sweep
I fight it, but I softly weep
so quietly in the night.
Above the seas, beyond the moon
confined in heavens black cocoon
who plays that haunting deathly tune
so quietly in the night?
What will my captor now decree?
Shall I know life, shall I go free…
or shall the devil come for me
so quietly in the night?
Befitting rain to match my tears
reflecting all these gripping fears
as light forever disappears
so quietly in the night.
08/22/15
Submission for contest: Rain and Dark, Isolated Places
Hosted by: Pendleton Arkwright
morning cbc
alert to all consumers
your program's been writ
wall street controls andt
the object is behavior
it is to be changed
without one's knowledge
through psychological names
on consumer goods
to millenials
you are right for the fodder
that feeds the machine
you get what you buy
technology addiction
it's all in the name
and you've got sore feet
walking all day with head down
the world escaped
to your private cell
or your home pad your i-pod
movie in private
your present was writ
technology has you trapped
the institution
provides walking-cells
and i-pods (latin: sore feet)
just another screen
stan sand
In Memoriam Quietly Always Close
Are they whispers, then, settling
So gently upon that slightest breeze wending
Over the granite crosses and statues of cradling angels,
Which stand in their long cemetary rows?
Stating each name of the one passed on with
There-on etched, too, the noting of time alive
And telling of the beloved, who hum there their slow laments;
Who send up colorful balloons to celebrate their love and
Take far their silent greetings in the sky.
Are they lullaby heartsongs, which
Rise on sprigs of heaven-bound light,
So tunefully sweet for love’s addressed, aided
By a league of angellic composers
In their lyrical rounds from above our earthly sphere?
Are these the places of our hushed sympathies?
The places we lay over our dear ones
All the broken pieces of the grieving heart’s still longing
To stay in some way forever near, and, so, we linger thoughtfully
Criss-crossing the undulating final verdigris
Landscape, which embraces the last remains ~
Resting on in heaven’s wait for that further journey going on.
Are these faint mists surrounding
So many hours of our own remaining days —
Which are spent summoning back the stories, the touches,
The eyes that happily cast their glance into our own —
Not truly our tears
Being turned to magnifying memories,
Prayerfully appearing with each
Dusk’s close of day and placid rise of the radiant moon?
Do see that the soundless falling is our aching?
Is a furor — burst of pure, white snow:
A flash of a blizzard, looking nearly weightless,
Landing in silence, but
Incongruously, falling heavily down, into those forming crystalline layers
To dress a seeming lace-like çover over all the stone markers
With a luminous beauty, revealing a metaphor, ineffable
~ Blessed markers of life itself set here before us
Within reach of meeting the Divine.
—————————————————————————————-
(c) sally young eslinger 6/5/2023
(Written for Jennifer Wilson & Maggie Hopkins in loving
Memory of James Hopkins, spouse, father, & friend) Also written with the inspiring power of images of the 9,000 marking gravestone crosses in Normandy, France, and sights of Arlington Cemetary, Washington, D.C.
Written to unaccompanied cello Suite 1 in G major, perfomer Yo Yo Ma
Thanks be to God…
Sometimes we need to sit quietly
Just to do nothing at all
As we do this -we listen
To the quiet sounds around us
Then we hear our inner thoughts
It talks to us -saying things to us
Something we need to know
Poetry ideas come easy this way
Sometimes one idea or more
Or just getting started reading
A good mystery or romance
Quietness is good it relaxes
Good for the body and soul
Of Passing Cloud
- Roger White
Unaware of the world below, a wispy cloud suspended between Heaven and Earth
drifts westward against an azure sky…
…blithely
As if coaxed by an unseen presence or hastened by a gentle call,
reaches the setting sun of the western horizon…
…quietly
Awash in hues of gold, beautiful and radiant,
delicate tendrils touch the night’s first stars…
…gently
A wispy cloud escapes the bonds of Earth,
ascends into the embrace of Heaven…
…peacefully
winter lies quietly
waiting anxiously for spring
autumn leaves her mind
© Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
(December 16th, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)
QUIETLY BEGGING
Quietly begging the sandman - not prayers,
Just the usual inventive techniques
There have been nightmares
Nightmares? Nothing really frightening,
Not yet, just crazy, like
A boatman pointing an opposite shore,
Inviting
Pillow soft, yielding, deep
Bedspread, smooth, rippling
Eye lids heavy in his keep
Uhmm, hummmmmmmm…
“Old granny knows a young child’s heart
Now. Take a bite!
Yessssss, Sleep. Sleeeeeeep. Sleep.”
Dave Austin
Never given divorce much thought
Murder weapon haven't bought
Just a case of dog food
Upon demands of tasty hash
It will be ready in a flash
Onions seared big dude
Not the crying or weepy kind
Getting even is on my mind
Quietly I'll be rude*
Sponsor: Black-Eyed Susan
Contest: The Blues In Tail Rhyme
Written: March 9, 2014
*Note: I would never do this.
I saw it in a movie once where
a woman was being beaten
and abused by her husband..
In the edge of hope beyond the keyhole of times door
Exists the plane where we can all cope
In the corner where dreams are born
Lies the eternal heartbeat of love
Where whispers of sun lights laughter shine
Where the pages of charity are kept
Beyond the road of freedom where the inner soul dances
Quietly forgotten there exists the music of joy itself
Standing in the hall with his sword and his shield
Trying to recall his glory in the field
He sees that peace is not all it is said to be
And he's learning now to suffer quietly
Friendship, sweat n' blood, there was a mortal fear
It was brotherly love and without a single tear
Oh, the angel of death you could hear her wings
Right now there seems to be no real need for anything
I could wish nothing more vile on my closest enemy
Than to turn back, recover his tracks and to suffer quietly
Slave to the mundane such as no other animal
Deluded he lays claim to the incompatible
Haunted by the facts, confronted in his shame
It's a life on the run through a carnival of pain
Coerced by the wily fools that he must serve
Do harm unto your neighbor, plunder the earth
N' With no other option than to guard his patch
And Orpheus , he gave word there's no looking back
There is no comfort to be found in abject misery
n' Forever is a very long time to while away cowardly
I could wish nothing more vile on my closest enemy
Than to turn back, recover his tracks and to suffer quietly
-The feeling of listen to the piano music "Voice of Compassion"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4UlZyuFiGks&feature=related
When I sit quietly
I could see my heart
My heart is gentle and delicate
Accompanied by the soft music
Dancing between the piano keys
I am caressing my heart
Touching my face
My face suffused with a charming light flush
My smile bloosms in the charm
such as roses blooming on the piano
Such as cloves floating in the streams
My poetry in my fingers pondering
The wonderful music
With my poetry flying
As gently flowing clouds
In the morning after the rain
Kissing the dreamlike rainbow
I hear the legend Pianist playing on the ocean
I see the beautiful face of a girl appearing in the sea
I feel the charming deaf piano lady kissing the waves
With her playing deeply from her heart
Are full of passion and love
like beautiful roses bloosm on the piano
Those petals that between piano keys
lightly drop upon my heart
I am navigating my boat
My fingers are weaving a dream cloth for my poetry
My boat is floating on the faraway centre ocean
Loaded with all romance
Drifting away
I am sitting quietly, facing toward the sea
My lips are dancing among the petals
My heart
Never pure as this moment
Turning to a wave of mist
Into the sky
Gone with the wind
02/Jan/2016
Each night, while you lay breathing quietly,
I wander like a wraith through empty rooms
A phantom in both life and memory,
the ghost a long abandoned oath exhumes
I hover like a spirit over you
each night, while you lay breathing quietly,
so desperate to believe what isn't true,
I make the best of ambiguity
This specter in the mirror isn't me
These lines belong on someone elses face
Each night, while you lay breathing quietly,
it's loneliness that holds me in your place
My worth so long defined by your extremes;
extolled by love, or birched by perfidy,
I find it's just the first that haunts my dreams
each night, while you lay breathing quietly
Quietly whispered
Receiving silent
Emotions kept
Laughing yet
Without voices
Just shown teeth
Thus a funny, the silent poem speaks
QUIETLY WHISPERED THE SILENT POEM
SPEAKS AS HE READS A BOOK
THE PEOPLE LAUGH AND LOOK
7/13/23
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2023©
Turn down the insanity
and
take my hand
fingers splayed
in
hopeful return
of
secrets half known
of you
wished fully by me