Best Silent Poems
Lullabies through tear filled eyes
It's truly, love at first sight
The bond is forged and galvanized
To hold forever tight
Each time you needed a hand
She always had one free
From then on, when in demand
As soft as she needed to be
No sacrifice was too great
A patient answer to every, "why?"
That look when you came home late
When you didn't come home, she'd cry
As flowers begin to crumble
your eyes look tired and hands so frail
Breaks my heart to see you stumble
as tears fall with your skin so pale
No one can ever take your place
nor replace your angelic love
Your life is full of prestige grace
precious beauty like a white dove
Mum's sweet words flow like a fountain
such wisdom will always live on
Her love conquers the highest mountain
fills me with pride to be her son
July 4 2017
Collaboration By Daniel Turner and Silent One
Silent Heart
Sad, as it maybe, I had to break my OWN heart,
Too many nights, I sat there all torn apart
A dream girl,
Sitting under its own corrupted auspices sky
You the poet, in disguise
Telling white lies about, your love for me
Saying I'm a born from the sky....
A match, a queen, your muse, your everything
I'm no good, I admit this once more,
Your advice, I forever adorn
It's time to follow the crying crows and praise what is left
Afraid to listen my rhymes weren't cutting it,
I release it all!
Your smiles, words, and worn out shoulders
I walked away
Silently--
I acted on
Without a word, in a fetal stage I awake
Tonight you carry a tune for others
A story of a man who stole my soul of sins
A poet, I long forevermore
Always, you will own the only sound that still beats inside
To live alone, in silence, asleep in my own world
I had to let go,
-Of him, whose name I whisper in darkness
The only thing that remains is the echoes of pouring rain
Too many reasons, writer's block, took full moon
You are a poet, from another lifetime,
Down in Mandalay, I can no longer ask you to stay
Reading everything about my life, silent and old
Alliterating poems, greeting every dark shadow, normally yours
Many nights I waited, long for the moment of my OWN return
Instead, I found myself alone
Trying to dust off yesterday's verse, yesterday's dirt
Cobweb remains on my page
My pen now sits like a twig
No motion, since the day I decided I am not worthy of the wait
You the poet, who walks my way
I pressured less of me every day
Like Aspen, a forever winter cold!
Isolated to the world
In your eyes, you wonder why,
I trace the white smoke standing in your place?
To savor your words, once more
It's too soon to breathe again.
I hope you understand,
How can I continue to love when I don't even love myself?
By:PD
her words,
now naked.
Finally
letting them e
e v
v o
l
and run into
silent seams
He speaks with measured dignity,
one silent word at a time
His palmetto pen tells us:
Tune out the cosmic background noise,
and focus your mind
on the sound of the silent voice
You most certainly will hear this ...
... did you hear it?
Oh, perhaps you got distracted by the sounds of emptiness
His message in a void
comes with clear poetic instructions:
Avoid all unnecessary malaise ... cap the chaotic noise
Have a willingness to learn
one silent word at a time
This will teach us how to unclutter our mind
Using poetic telepathy,
his priceless pen brings that silent word
to the surface of our consciousness
Not every sound we hear in this world do we need
The Silent One says:
take it one silent word at a time
True understanding comes
when we allow expansion of the heart
Enlarging our capacity to transmit love,
allows us to hear
the best unspoken words we never heard of
One silent word ...
when spoken at the right moment of time
can be so life-changing sublime
Poetic telepathy ... gives us the ability
to understand every unspoken word
written between the lines
One silent word
connecting
to another unspoken word ...
Pure poetic telepathy in our mind
Enlarging our capacity to receive love,
allows us to speak
the best unspoken words we never spoke of
Where his silent pen stroke stops —
at the sacred melding of two minds ...
let these silent words
be spoken in unison, always at the same time
This is a tribute to my talented poet friend, Silent One
Dear anxiety
Nemesis to my reality,
mental manipulator of tentative trust,
massacring my once sagacious soul -
you cut me into a slice of loneliness.
The fault is in our thoughts,
so I am haunted by the things you never said.
You remain silent to society's subjective eyes,
but a glimpse of a poet's soul shivers,
to these vivid verses held by ghosts -
echoing a repetitive chorus in a cathedral of screams.
I'm an uninvited guest in an audience with you,
so I drink poison in every line I write about you.
These words burn my vocal chords,
but I swallow them anyway,
as my paper heart pumps onyx drops
crying through my veins to heartache's recital
of an infected celestial mind yearning for a remedy.
But life is a cupid cruelty in dulcet disguise,
when your heart is a sinister seashell,
oblivious to potions of omen brewed in pigments of pixie-dust.
You're an unwelcome melody to my mystic,
composing an internal deadly demeanour.
I am the ink stuck in your cage,
dissolving like acid in your controlled carnage,
confined to trembling bleeding intuitions,
lost in corridors of horrific obscure mirrors,
whilst paranoia palpitates in a whirling haze of
magnetic ice warmth, melting my sanity,
amidst crumbling stars that lure cavernous comets
of silver grief to pirouette above frozen seas draped with
a fluorescent creme of skies.
As oceanic tides of topaz rise and fall,
flatlined into pewter streams of emptiness.
The moon coruscates in coral blue lies,
passing through intractable phases of trepidation,
abandoning light in black tourmaline nights -
pivoting into a psychedelic trance.
Rainbows fade before we can embrace
their colorful showers drizzling jade jewels
that rhyme with kaleidoscopic kismet,
as life through rose coloured lenses turns
into a provisional poetic manifestation.
If only I could escape this self-inflicted dungeon,
but you pursue like a perpetual predator.
I'll forever expose your oppression through my poems,
confessing how I never asked for this enforced affair.
I know I'm my own storm, I'm my own calm -
I just hope this is the last time I write about you.
I forgot myself today
as melancholic melodies
overwhelm each beat
of my wandering heart.
The sanctimonious sun deceives
as a bitter breeze breathes
against sullen silent surfaces.
Recycled emotions penetrate
with a repetition of deep sighs.
My spiritless soul strays, but is
happy to be lost in lyrical lament.
As the Nightingale chants its
continuous regretful resonance,
the tip of my tongue aches
to whisper your amorous name, but
holds back knowing you can't hear.
Without your enchanted vision,
neglected eyes perish.
Without your perfumed presence,
senses remain scentless.
Without your tender touch,
fragile petals won't blossom.
As a cascade of sandcastle emotions
infiltrate stubborn sierra barriers.
Violent tears erupt,
demolishing hardened walls.
What used to be bitter breaths and
spiteful sighs are now regretful cries.
Your silent goodbye still haunts
as the lips grieve for one last kiss.
I forgot myself today,
but have not forgotten your love.
The Silent One
Simple Musing
29 November 2017
(Fiction)
when demons scream
fabricating falsehoods
i'll summon the angels
to help ease your mind
when you feel damaged
too broken to whisper
in dull blank darkness
i'll illuminate like stars
when dreams are nightmares
sleeplessness stresses sanity
rest tired head on my chest
i'll be your comforting pillow
when you forget the lyrics
i'll hum sentimental tunes
when struggling to express
i'll create heartfelt poetry
when tears rush in like the tide
puddles become dismally deep
i'll lift you upon the highest cliff
watch sunrise from your heart
when leaves fall to the ground
birds abandon naked branches
i'll wrap you in my winter coat
till green leaves shelter nests
when society points in prejudice
i'll strive for justice in injustice
open every door that has closed
clear paths to offer you clarity
when there is too much silence
i'll request nightingales to sing
when there is too much noise
i'll always be your silent friend
Sunday Musings
Silent One
18 October 2020
Dedicated to all those who are always there for others.
True act of friendship and compassion is how friendly and compassionate you are to those, who are not. Even those who may take it for granted.
When life becomes confusing,
my only saviour is my
simple musing.
Susurration of sighs,
reflect sands of time,
like an unbalanced hourglass.
As words lose
innocent connotations
i drift into my
silent reverie.
Wild fires no longer rage,
rain perishes like a drought
who knows what winds may come and go.
Motionless mind agrees to a ceasefire,
with my apprehensive heart.
Cumulonimbus clouds clear,
sky is like a fresh page.
Simple sun shines - scintillating,
illuminating an enchanting rainbow.
Horizons reflect like stained glass windows
Path clears before me,
as I bask in the brisk breeze.
Refreshing wise winds soothe.
as zephyrs heal tender wounds.
I see smoky mountains up ahead,
but I believe I can conquer them
as pain is no longer my companion.
Simple Musing
Silent One
27 February 2019
When we search for answers from egotistic minds,
life is full of meaningless questions that lead us nowhere.
You sabotaged the sandman who brought me my dreams,
corrupting and confusing the clarity of my conscience.
In a world of betrayal, I thought you were my
saviour,
but your promises were sworn from a throne of lies -
where you perch as the king of false pretences.
Tired from being a victim of your insecurities,
I am not your mistake nor your abandoned
trauma.
Fate led my empathic sanity into your labyrinth of splintered hollowness,
confining me within a soulless sphere of unfair
madness,
yet, I still remember how you pledged to show me the moon -
falsehoods which led to an eternal eclipse for my eyes.
You stole the silver sewn with perfectly metered syllables,
calming the storm I carry in cacophonous silence,
but now, all I see is a megalomaniac monster, draped in rose tones of synthetic rhodolite, pretending to be an ivory dove in a horizon of vicious vultures,
hiding behind a decaying province of black petunias.
Your synthetic smile veils your cruel character, afraid that the vermilion you paint across your
sunsets,
will reveal the poison you fed my paralyzed soul.
My ink will always portray your true parasite persona,
about your attempts to assassinate my authentic aroma,
as now i blossom in meadows without your
toxic touch.
I remember
when I was a poor boy
and nobody loved me
mamma's tears felt like acid
burning holes in my heart -
I became breathless
triggers came without a guarantee
violence swept like an adversary
in silence i found my sanctuary
my bubble an escape from reality
grenades of my ancestors
detonated along my destiny
I burned in a bonfire of misery
papa's demons were too loud
so I hid my heart behind a shroud
as fatal tumors cursed my tongue
my sighs turned into a melancholic song
triggers came without a guarantee
violence swept like an adversary
in silence i found my sanctuary
my bubble an escape from reality
as the novelty of poison wore out
through the Devil's death i began to shout
his assassination set my soul free
childhood pain became my poetry
once I was a poor boy with silent ink,
but in adolescence I've learned to think
i used to wish I had never been born
but it's pointless living with bitter scorn
As withheld words escaped through winds of change
regretful tears from fears were blown out of range
Childhood is a ship,
preparing to set sail,
but not all harbors are kind
the ocean a mysterious enigma.
Not all inflictions are visible,
some bruises remain invisible.
Not all trauma can be expressed,
so the past is buried - still breathing.
Ghosts resurface, with subtlest of hints.
When we are born,
we are 'freshly decorated' boats.
Preparing to set sail through unknown waters,
longing to venture to foreign shores.
Yet, what is hidden underneath deep ripples,
is not innocent, like my childhood heart -
powerless, helpless, defenseless.
An anthology of a villain and his victims
Sins of my father,
once plagued my mother's tears.
Her anchor became a burden of heavy fears,
so drought, dehydrated her river bed.
To escape constant waves of rage,
my mind set sail to seek safer shores.
On my boat, I was my own captain.
Steps of thunder,
followed me through turbulent tides,
yet, spirit found courage to row faster -
to this day, I've never known how.
Maybe, I could not let his blood define me.
I watched, in horror, as his terror,
drowned my petrified siblings -
I wonder, why they did not sail away,
were their anchors, consumed with reality?
When words struck like metaphorical daggers,
sirens of the sea, serenaded with songs of sorrow.
But, my soul knew the sun would offer redemption -
finally unchain me from the darkness of adolescence.
Through passages of life,
what was once a boat in troublesome times,
is now a ship, settled on stable seas.
Example for Inflictions contest.
Silent One
8 August 2020
There is a proverbial hypocrisy to
'See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil'
when sinister perversions,
lurk behind closed doors,
contained inside four walls.
What is a sin and what is not,
is in the eye of perception,
but within the pretense
of immorality and deception,
so much is lost in silence
yet it is the tormented who suffer,
when innocence is aborted.
Tongues are timid with trepidation,
afraid of the resulting violence.
Daily thoughts contorted,
they walk among us -
abused, broken, forgotten, misguided.
Like elevators moving up and down,
until you push the wrong buttons -
then all passengers are refused.
In silent sins, evil shame grins,
at those with bandaged hearts,
slowly ageing into stone,
as sadistic oppression wins.
Faces that I have seen,
strangers in their own homes,
struggling to belong in society,
a rejected and dejected priority.
We all seek flourishing green pastures,
a place some have never been.
Some try to run away further than before,
but each trap leads to another trapdoor.
There is an art to suffering,
in darkness you can't see hope -
too much is lost in secret silent sins.
Mizaru open your eyes.
Kikazaru, open your ears.
Iwazaru, open your mouth.
The Silent One
30 October 2020
My mind is a puzzle of cryptic metaphors.
whilst searching for my sanity,
I've become my own worst enemy.
In this cauldron of despair,
time is like sand in my hand -
an oxymoron poetic
paradox of cruel compassion.
Sadistic green eyes bring my demise,
as my sighs are captured by the wind,
slowly morphed into madness and travesty.
I sit alone on the throne of midnight illusions,
cursed by dark imaginations
lingering like mouldy air,
as vivid flashing images
engrave inkstained imprints.
Dripping lament from a
palette of black and white,
colouring in the emptiness of my sensitive soul.
In echoing whispers of weeping violins,
whimsical vibratos from wooden wind-chimes,
steadily orchestrate instrumental sonatas,
ringing through my strained metallic heart,
whilst I try to strum strangled strings,
harmonizing an inconsistent symphony of a tragedy.
Fate has me stranded within a monotonous loop of uncertainties,
for when twilight’s last breath piercingly eclipsed over
lyrical edges of my insomniac shadow,
it awoke restless beasts of nocturnal nights -
in nightmares I wondered does no one hear my screams?
i can see dazzling dusts of black diamonds,
drizzle manuscripts of maniac irony
translating dialects hidden behind unshed tears
that gleam like shooting stars,
as i sing mystical moonbeams,
sewn with silver sequins of euphonious memories on refrain,
chorused from nameless tunes of timeless tomorrows,
as the magic of the maestro,
residing in the highest bridge of sanguine skies,
guides these electric fears, trapped between
synchronized layers of my unsettled skin.
I'm tired from intangible tears in the mirror,
slowly sinking me in swirls of sorrow,
like a bruised creature
seeking shelter in a silk cocoon,
so this aurora's smile is no longer a masquerade.
I hunger for rays of sunlight to paint my skin
in a plethora of pastels,
so this golden bronze queen,
can once again glitter
in a crown of illuminating heartbeats.
Last POTD for the year - 31st Dec 2017
An eagle spirit conquers storms of adversity,
like a silent soul floats amongst the sky's artistry.
Soaring higher, ascending further from perception,
free from judgemental realities of deception.
Through silver rippled clouds glimpses of sun’s projection,
people - hills and streams merely blurred hued perfection.
Cocooned in tranquillity - brightly scintillating,
Elevated flow of peace astral souls stimulating.
Drifting like peaceful streams, formless in spirituality,
floating nonchalantly lured by the moon's hospitality.
Stars illuminate creating the path's foundations,
soul ascends carefree from a life of tribulations
Swathe in crystalline warmth of a galactic revelation,
merging with the Universe in its empyrean constellation.
Released from worldly strife in its final aspirations,
soul reaches joyous heights in its heavenly inspirations
A Maria Williams and Silent One collaboration
29 December 2017
Last POTD for the year - 31st Dec 2017
POTD 27 Sept 2023
~LOVE SAID ~
"Go find her, set her free."
In my search, I found an array of colourful petals,
An abundance of aromatic aromas.
Each one, I hydrated with my blood and tears,
But each one pricked me with their thorns.
Fatigued ~ pondering an end to my quest,
I prepared for a life without a petal of my own.
A voice whispered ~
"Look this way."
And there you were
Glimmering under twilight's delight,
So I planted you in my heart,
So you can blossom in an ocean of love...
by The Silent One
And Maria Williams
French Lyric translation
Quand il me prend dans ses bras
(When he takes me in his arms)
Il me parle de tout bas
(he speaks to me softly)
Je vois la vie en rose
(I see life in pink)
Every time you kiss me, Heaven sighs
Il me dit des mots d'amour
(he tells me words of love)
Don't know why
Des mots de tous les jours
(everyday words)
I close my eyes
Et ça m'fait quelque chose
(and it touches me)
If only you would
Give your heart and soul to me
And life will always be
La vie en rose
(The life in pink)
Some amazing talents come together here.
Thank you Silent One for your collaboration with me on this creative poem.
Ron Williams, for video direction and composition, which we put together.
And to David Luke for his excellent narration.
Attributions:
Lyrics by Edith Piaf
Music and vocal:
Michael Bublé & (feat. Cécile McLorin Salvant)
Album La vie en rose
Licenced by You tube