Best Screams Poems


Premium Member - Lonely Screams of Pain -

Listen to the silence
                 the silent ... nothing
                 language-independent word

                 Silent screams of pain
                 loneliness that is currently
                 and loneliness luggage tomorrow

                 Slowly creeps into darkness
                 shadows as an eternal companion
                 The total feeling of emptiness, disappointment and sorrow

                 A longing for tenderness, touch and love
                 The butterflies are gone ... they've flown their way
                 Left me here alone - abandoned the covenant of love

                 Tears fall like silent thunder
                 Loneliness and fear behind the mask
                 The mask falls when the tears come

                 The silence of tears and sorrow
                 Swollen, teary and red eyes
                 Trying to catch a ray of angelic light






27.11.2013
A-L  Andresen :)

Close Enough To Hear Men's Screams

the fifty cal pierced the tank
flash and bang, it quickly shrank

shrill high screams,so briefly heard,
then comes the death's, savage bird

thus pecked clean; blue eyes and spleen,
not more terrible, death, seen,

and so the night's moon I'd thank
died, I  not, in fiery tank

Silent Screams

All these things that happened..playing ever so clear in my head.
They are my secrets to take with me, until the day that I am dead.

Too scared to tell anyone, suffocating me so I can't breathe.
Alone I face the darkness, bottling up every emotion because they only make me seethe.

People may read this, some confused but still those who know what it means.
This is the best way I can put it, these are my silent screams.

Everything comes crashing down on you..Why at such a cost?
You took my happiness from me, innocence once held to be forever lost.

It's so easy to say it never happened, everything felt behind a mask.
Blocking it is never permanent, the pain will always last.

It just couldn't stop at one bad thing, you pray the pain in your soul is numbing, just to have more trauma you never saw coming.

I can never escape it.. the sound of those silent screams.
They stay with me wherever I go, they even haunt my dreams.

I know what you are thinking, this is never something you want to see.
But some of us have terrifying secrets, that are ours alone to keep.

The people who will get this will know what these words mean.
Reading between the lines is easier than it may seem.

This story is heartbreaking to write. It's painful, sad and true..but these bad things happened to me and I pray they never happen to you.

I do not seek sympathy. These are just words left unspoken. I am not completely torn...I am just beautifully broken.


Tower of Screams

Tower of Screams



Shake, rattle, and roll as the obscenities pour from his troubled mouth, 
troubled mind, and tortured Soul! Poor, poor little boy unable to control 
the uncontrollable, so hard to console the inconsolable...

It is a pain to observe, imagine the pain within him? Can you hear the screams, 
the nightmares are real, the fear is constant, happiness is immediately replaced
by the Demons within, good can't win, not this one, it belongs to sin...

Incoherently mumbling...something...but nothing...except obscenities, they flow
free here in his screams, they are bellowed out loud in his dreams, which are 
never-ending so it seems, he screams...and screams...and screams...

life is all tragedy without relief, this is beyond belief, a terrible disease, 
he believes, really believes that he is in Hell...and I am beginning to think 
that maybe...just maybe he is unfortunately right...

Because only Evil itself would continue this child's suffering...
and the suffering that we share watching him...
Unable to do anything...

WE CAN'T DO ANYTHING!!...NOTHING!!...

But continue to suffer with him...as we are here just stuck on
the Tourette's of his Syndrome without ammunition...

Just listening...and listening...to this tortured child cry...



Entered into contest: "Deep & Dark II" Hosted by: Laura Loo 
Poem Revised: 10/25/17

Premium Member Go Forth With Loud Screams

Rainbow spectrum hue teems; colour path beams
Flow among the streams; forming back, white dreams   
Fantasy within seams; fey air it seems 
A life with themes;   verse quest forward in reams
Go forth with loud screams; sublime self-esteem
Taking sunbeams; blessing our Lord’s supreme

1/9/2016

 Rhymers delight- internal monorhyme - Poetry Contest
  
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member My Tired and Lost Soul Next This Wise Advice Out It Screams

My Tired And Lost Soul Next This Wise Advice Out It Screams

As harder blown dry winds skulk among oldest granite stones
And the spitting sun flamed the mass of white desert sand
I trekked alone, jagged pains pulsing through my old bones
My weathered soul cursed God of this god-forsaken land
I could see a gloomy night trying to rear its ugly head
Where could in this barren pitiful hot, hot place dare I sleep
All here was hard rocks and sand, not a damn good place to bed
I thought this damnable fierce land wants this dear life to keep
As my worn-out soul begged for water and damn lot of rest
So under a scrubby bush I sat down to my diary write
Was this a hazardous darken journey, a god given test
Then these eyes saw above, bright stars painting the night.

With my nightly prayers said, I laid down to dream
And this love-struck heart recalled her very beautiful face
And how we together were such a great and fine winning team
Then massive sadness flew on into my brief joy replace
Dawn's breath was blown and my romantic heart finally woke
This reborn spirit decided to this abject darkness fight
Mused I, this soul-searching journey is indeed no damn joke
Surely it was not my responsibility to set things right!
Had she not to another man sworn her undying love
Promised him to be his new and true beautiful queen
Even next, promised to forever love to our God above
And swore to forward race over to his daring dark scene.

My tired and lost heart soul next this wise advice outward screams.
Son, you deserve better than light from her black treacherous beams.

Robert J. Lindley, Rhyme
July 17th, 1973

Note- 
I was only 19 years old when I composed this one. I thought about doing a major editing job but decided not to. Just let it stand as is, a poem written by a 19 year old kid. God bless..


Heal the World

Voices and screams wailing from the face of the world,
There is nothing but the days of Sodom and Gomorah
Soils of syria turns to ashes 
The world is now a melting pot,
Jets and planes rocketing the face of the sky  Visions from Sango  are no more
Oh shame !
where the word love have gone
That world of tranquility and harmony without destructions,
Without tankers and hummers from united states trolling the lands of Sudan for peace in wars they start
In Ethopia my sisters are dying Alshabaab ravage the land ,dry bones are living in subjugation
In the name of power and sovereignity M23 turn to bullies
Everyday is a blood bath, (le) fleuve congo flow with hatred
Skies have gone grey with the mist from barrels
Mother is crying in Afighanstan for her baby son his life expectance reduces to 24 hours and living life is now by grace not by choice
Even the air we breath some one wants to take control and gain popularity out of it
I see power hungry turns our brothers into good guys with bad hearts
Yesterday it was father now its my own brother
Why is it that power turns to corrupt absolutely
Boko Haram is seeking all virgins of the land 
And to my aquintances may be its only i left to fill this hole of earth and
I guess to vultures gone are the days of hunger
But why is it that we presume to be free but everywhere in chains
We work for them and they eat for us
They sing for us and we dance according to their tune

Silent Screams

To stop and ask just who I am
Is very hard indeed
For everyone I've ever been
Is locked inside of me
Too much for self to understand
The silent screams I hear
Oh help me please, won't someone help
Are pleas for just my ears
Which one of me is slipping past
My ego there intact
To make me let my weakness show
And disintegrate my act
Head held high, shoulders back
Make-up and fancy clothes
Are all a part of this game I play
I'm the cast and the star of the show
I ask myself what's real in life
And this answer keeps coming to me
You fool, you fool; just look around
And reality you will see
Someone inside is trying to get through
And I know I cannot defend
My ego and all that possesses me
For I am my only friend
I hurt, I'm sick, I can't bear any more
I can't live in this world like I am
For there's no one to care, no one to share
No one to take my hand
A voice deep inside says it's easy to leave
Choose this gun and go into a sleep
My ego cries out; yes let's do it right now
Before someone changes your mind
As I pick up the gun I know I have failed
I am sorry for the others inside
But they are too weak to carry me through
And so I must say good-by
A moment has passed and out of the depths
Comes a fragment of something I know
A voice strong and clear
Fills my heart and my ears
And says; wait it's not your time to go
Take a minute, that's all; you can wait just one more
To hear what I say, please don't close the door
Close your eyes and your ears and listen to me
For I am the truth and the light
I died don't you know
In a way that was cruel
So in your life you might be free
If you'll look deep inside you'll certainly see
One of God's greatest miracles of all
For it's really no secret just misunderstood
It's love in the purest form
I shake and I'm weak
I fall to the floor
My heart is ceasing to beat
For when I looked in I knew right away
One of God's greatest miracles was me
© Bj Howell  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member He Wails He Screams He Shrieks

He wails, he screams, he shrieks, he yells.
No one pays attention.
He throws chairs, the TV, his I-pad.
People look up, vaguely interested.
Poor baby. He is bored, thinks his mother.
Poor baby. He is too gifted for that teacher to teach thinks his father.
Poor baby, no home schooling, thinks the teacher.

All of them right, 
But no one fully listening
So the wailing, screaming and shrieking continue.
A whole lifetime of it.
No one ever wanting to get close enough
to understand the why of it.
All too busy being right
to listen to what is
happening inside
and who has
hurt him.

Premium Member Dying Screams


Gusts thump the windows,
Never seen, but always heard,
Hastening to meet the tallest oaks,
Urging them to sway, bending,
Leaning as if to waltz this way, that way,
Wherever the curls and turns,
Wherever the wind’s song impresses
Them to move – east or west,
North or south, this way and that way,
Every way leads to the lingering burst of wonder,
Amazement found on the crisp edges,
Shadows betraying the notes, the music,
Revealing the laughter of a breathless moment,
When the wind meets the heart,
Silences the doubts and reassures there is hope,
Wherever the wind lays its trembling fingers,
There is the promise of a fresh, cool breeze –
Bold and strong, releasing the moments,
One by one, fading the dark, the fear,
With the dewlike sparkle of a clear joy…
Thumping at the window, impetuous and warm,
Willing to color the world in hues of soft gasps,
Wind’s song invites even the past to hold on,
Because it won’t be long before she is gone.
Just listen to her scream, then – suddenly…
She just up and leaves – the whole world,
Quiet as can be, quiet as the softest grief…
Her death such a mystery!

Premium Member Flanders Screams

A gentle wind asks
Answered, simply, why not still
Said family grieve




.

Why Little Girl Screams--Manchester Terrorist Attach

An innocent small girl is crying on the roadside
her face seems very candid and
expressions look naïve, but
nobody knows the cause of her sadness and 
and no one can ever feel 
the hidden wounds inside her heart 
Why does she scream?
Why does she shed painful tears?
Her eyes are tired of crying and
her tears are frozen
today there is no one to wipe her tears
maybe she is missing her childhood
when she used to insist on Barbie Doll
holding the fingers of her mother
and holding the hand of the father
used to chase butterflies in the garden
Used to kiss the droplets of rain
while floating a paper boat in the pond
Will her days come back?
Listening to mother's lullaby at midnight
used to fly with the fairies in the blue sky
Maybe she is still crying
now her tears must be tired
she still is waiting for her parents to come
But she does not know that
her parents will never return
God has called them to heaven
because her parents, at the hands of cruel terrorism,
have been killed 
in the Menchester Bomb Blast
on 22nd May 2017.
Let us pray that the soul of her parents
rest in piece!

(By Kishan Negi)

Braille Screams

Within the days,
                                                   eyes of ilex
                                                  lulling to the
                                                 snowy grass.
                                            Hearts and echoes
                                                  beating past.
                                         To want them would be
                                                   vox and vex;
                                             My love is silence
                                                    at its best.
                                          Speak while I am still
                                                   a living verb
                                             and not the words
                                                upon my grave.
                                             Consume me like
                                               the ocean waves,
                                        before I am nothing more
                                                  than literature.

Hear Her Screams

none of us
will see the next century
none of us
will see the next dimension

why should we care?

but they feel it
the empaths,
the watchers, the light,
of creation 

its coming, change
on broken wings,
it flies past
as the world
peels off her layers.

she reveals herself 
to be in torment 
and we parasites
go about our
everyday life

ignoring her screams
for our mercy 

so if I the poet?
can draw attention
to her plight

I will scream
I will curse
I will burn effigy of
every god known to man

its time to notice
its time to take action 

So I scream 
a thousand poems
and cry a million tears

until the wash 
of my sound
can be heard

Furtive Screams of a Christian

Though I've created my own Egypt
Doing things as if God does not exist.
Could not wait for the unknown.
I'm burning with passion, inflamed with lust. 

Just! Because sin is the matter in the heart.
I was told the lies that are almost the truth
My mind sponged sinful ideas,
and was left illegally unfolded
to the dregs of morals beyond repairs.

As a result the pain is too deep
Piercing and violating my soul
grabbing where it is small, drilled by guilt.
I can feel each wrenching twists and turns
I think I am not worthy for this Title.

I'm being convicted a sinner
My reasoning is the reasoning of a rebellious child,
according to the scripture.
been distanced by the code of conduct of Salvation.
I am not worthy for this Title.

Listen! 
You cannot pen down  this poem without my Pangs.

This is the immortal battle field 
as an inside belly foetus
caged, struggling for rebirth.
tangled with sinful cords
choked to spiritual death.

This is not onion dialogue 
but a cry for Redemption.
Judge me on your way to your knees Brethren!

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