Best Soundlessness Poems


The Runner

If ever a frailty should be rued,
then my emotional resistance of
those who hold my affection dearest
to them, is the sin that equates my soul
with the essence of a Hitler, and condemns
my name to the highest degree of infamy,
While my heart longs to be understood, my
fear of abandonment dictates my legs to gain
distance as each loving gesture is offered in
repetition, Persistently they reach, only to be
disregarded, and embody me within my shame,

Friends and family alike, endure the coldness
of my introverted haven, staring into my eyes
in hopes of disconfirming the projected emptiness
that flows from actions, words, or lack of both,
As they hurt from me, I scream for them in silence,
A deafening continuous stream of soundlessness,
that elevates my withheld pain from ache to harrowing,
Yet they can only assume the contents of this confession,
For my words go directly from mind to paper, and 
never see the eyes of those who need to know this tenderness,

To express such powerful statements and risk the familiar
sting of neglect or abandonment once more, is a fear that
surpasses every shameful tear, haunting my thoughts as
a reminder that lives on insomnia, thus I remain devoted 
to a faithful vow of solidarity that keeps me sane and sheltered,
Moving at a constant pace, racing against my own fright, holding
every term or phrase of endearment within, and running from a
past that will not be relived by my decree, Alas, with mortal lungs,
 mechanical legs, and a heart that lies somewhere between the two, 
I run,
for and from, 
the feeling I desire most....

Shatter the Skies

The chase for laurels, our once fevered run
Its heady tune of love and vanity
Shattering azure skies to catch the sun
Lurid bonfires of our humanity

Under the cobalt canopy, I find
Waning, my drive to be the fastest horse
Plaques on the wall have bought no peace of mind
A surrender, or have I run my course?

No longer am I caged by boundlessness
Nor drawn to the hymns of normality
Now strength moves cautiously in soundlessness
My heart’s home cast in bronze finality

Yet the dream endures to grasp for the wreath
To shatter blue skies or settle beneath?

6/8/16
© Thomas W. Quigley

Spring Season Serves As Natural Antidote

Sunshine undulates across verdant plain
casting dark shadows ushering twilight zone
ringing athwart tree trunks
invigorating, joyously kickstarting, 
and plenti revitalizing
bountiful nature buzzfeeding 

vim, vinegar  and *****
caressing, massaging, and palpating with
soundlessness inducing bub bully giddy,
and sudsy spongy schmaltzy
harmonic livingsocial kerplunk
also intoxicating this perk o' late

ting teetotaler, no longer ginger
who doth oft times ale
with melancholic funk,
whereat imbibing nectar
of the Gods with fulfillment
temporarily quicken ends euphoric,
albeit 'pon firm meant soberly drunk.

Ah...nothing more uplifting
than (Anita Bryant raisin eyebrows) 
plugging sunkist orange treat,
this sensate being privy,
sans front row seat
agog at orchestral, festival, viz

choral paean courtesy sweet
flora and fauna feat
bequeathed to Mother Earth,
a requiem pulsating with heartbeat
pitch perfect exultation
glorifying spring days soon obsolete

ethereal, ideal, and
sensational tonic to gin
prestidigitation, qua
natural psychological helpmeet
pleasant distraction with intent to read
temporarily placating, needling craving

for Pete sakes daily 
fix this news junkie,
trembling when complete
awareness he doth accrete,

where quite glum, how
civilization didst mistreat
planet, hence feeling downbeat,
especially haunting ghosts of
Native Americans drumbeat
signal harbinger debacle

i.e. environmental doomsday
soon fated extinction
sealed and complete
inexorably inching closer to reality

necessitating superman to defeat
global warming rendering vast swaths
uninhabitable as Gaia global
temperature packs tremendous heat!


Premium Member Peace- -

I tranquility
I’m calm
I restfulness
I’m peace and quiet
Peacefulness I am
I quiet in quietude
I’m silence
I’m soundlessness a hush
I’m calm
In the calmness of the Lord
PEACE


Stillness still am I
Privateness seclusion in mine solitude
Isolation retirement
Freedom from interference
Mental calm in mind serenity.
I am at peace and forever be

in a larger sense, peace (or peacefulness) can alas I’m always in a state of harmony,
Quiet or calm 
I’m in serenity
Peacefulness, tranquility
I’m calm
In the calmness of the Lord
My composure placidity placidness and at rest
I’m repose so at ease in comfort contentment In God’s security
Bliss
Joy
Nirvana, Hallelujah
Mixed in law and order
Peacefulness harmony
In harmoniousness accord Jesus concord
Amity I am amicableness in goodwill many friendship
Cordiality nonaggression and nonviolence
Respite
Lull
A ceremonial handshake or kiss exchanged during a service in some Churches  symbolize I my Christian love and unity.

PEACE
That is not disturbed by anything at all,
I’m like a still pond with no ripples.
PEACE
I release myself of my emotions
I am not humanity judge nor jury
I am free
Freedom from dispute or dissension between individuals or groups
I agree and receive and believe in God’s grace and His glorious
PEACE
PEACE released
I’m a witness
PEACE is still
PEACE is here for I speak it
ALWAYS
Simple peace.
Peace is a time without any fights or wars.
law and order I speak and live order peacefulness 
Peaceableness harmony harmoniousness accord with my brothers and sisters
Concord amity amicableness goodwill friendship even if you proclaim to be my enemy
Cordiality nonaggression nonviolence respite lull
I’m so peace now it’s borderline unbelievable
PEACE
PEACE released
I’m a witness
PEACE is still
PEACE is here for I speak it
ALWAYS
Simple peace.
Peace is in my life
In my minds world
I pour my heart out peace is mind and it can be yours?
This I receive it, speak it and I believe it…
PEACE released
I’m a witness
PEACE is still
PEACE is here for I speak it
ALWAYS
Simple peace.


1/9/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
Written for class assignment (WIPS) North Omaha Writers Group (NOW)
January 7, 2020 Assignment

This Is How I See You

The softness of your being; 
the effervesence of your presence;
perfectly composed and untroubled;
(This is how I see you)

Easy going surrounds you like sucklings
under their mothers wings;
quiet; undisturbed; breathing easy;
(This is how I see you)

Your misterious countenence manifests it's beauty quietly; 
yet the soundlessness of it all speaks so loud,
Like piercing soundwaves into the universe shattering barriers,
(This is how I see you)

Like an unsolved puzzle you are baffling;
sending me into millennials of unknowingness
wisking me into heights of unconscienceness; 
You stump me...
(This is how I see you)

Patience danceses around you like red in a wild fire
unable to contain itself ,nor allow anyone else to put it out;
It just burns..
(This is how I see you)

You, I could see you in my world for an eternity;
and together we would break barriers
that seperate you and me; we would share
the sweet silence together just you and me;
we would just love so easy;
(This is how I see you..and me)

Sigh of Sin ? (Part - 3)

by the right of our walks strewed outside 
we too when hiding ourselves in the regime of fire 
with our intention and activities 
with our standpoint 
with our conduct and  behaviour 
or any instant rule or direction 
or our deeds 
that compel the rotation of the deodorant 

thus after the eye-operation 
the love between you and me is now 
seeing more week-ends than before 
to her knee has been submitted many caws 
painted in water-colour 

in every corner and every hole of the body 
that pulls the rickshaw the wind enters 
and in every root-cause of the sufferings
the ripple of annihilation of love
 
from the shop of dip-swimming now
you can also purchase soundlessness  
to feel  the spirit of  chrysoberyl 

now you need the work for 100 days 
to gain the power you need to keep pace 
with the graph of the terracotta 
that may also be a long day of fasting  

then on the back of that hungry conch-shell 
a globe shouts 
the other’s world puts its office-water
in the fountain of cactus the roaring of which 
pours so many telephone-calls into the ears 

then in our market the ear-bursting sound of the generator 
then in our forest-land 
the bullet-fight between maoist and the joint-force 

then with the enlarging and waning of our moon 
are the bright fortnight the dark fortnight and the leaves of wood-apple


Inch By Inch

falling back
water envelopes me 
i am surrounded by nothing 
nothing but the quiet of the 
soundlessness  of the confined water space
it surrounds me like a coffin
burying me in a stinging grave
blackness enters my mind
cold enters me, and starts to grind;
 at my bones, inch by inch
away from the pain
i cannot flinch
it takes me over
inch by inch

Premium Member Soundlessness of Solitude

Here I am laying my 
Soft bed down I'm
Thinking about tomorrow
Wishing for yesterday 
when days before
I savored the banks of the
French Rivieras undisturbed
Soundlessness  solitude of the
Quiet waves rolling placidly
Seemingly beaches ago a 
Flock of fair feathered friends
Soaring being admired

Infallible

Infallible 

I fall into the rain, beneath me;
My sky a glittery dust to thee,
Calling the joy I hath not met,
Thou cometh sweetly, but late. 

I fall into the cold, and just me;
Only I understand the clouds,
Oh! I cannot seek that ‘tis so loud,
Too much noise, sickly around me!

Those fallen tears around my head;
The soundlessness of one’s fate,
And hark, in such quietness,
The decrepit being of hotness!

Those ragged stars about my hair;
Closing in on me, and my air,
With hues dyed in drowned sunshine,
But proud still, in its dried signs. 

For such heat hath closed me;
Hath sifted me away from you. 
For such guilt hath haunted me;
Hath kept me away anew. 

For such a love, that thou felt;
But not yet felt again, today,
The gaze that I once beheld,
The words my heart cannot say.

Wherefore art thou, my beloved;
For t’is passion is tainted but pure,
To behold, to instill, to demure,
The meaning of this first love.

Wherefore art thou, my paint;
These poems hath not been said,
I see chaos, and not a flesh of fate,
I hath been loving in vain.

Wherefore art thou, my gaze;
Why cannot I see you through my face,
To hear such a bountiful voice,
To be about thee, in this bliss.

Wherefore art thou, my voyage;
I cannot stay this sober longer,
And hysteria, turning into sobs,
Like death, as my heart throbs.

Wherefore art thou, my colour;
Bestowed on thee my honour,
And age, with my fleeting skin,
Waiting in haste, to be seen.

Wherefore art thou, my winter;
Having too many doubts in summer,
Awaiting a lover that lasts,
By the moonlight and stardust.

Wherefore art thou, my rain;
And the sung that sings again,
To release my midnight, its pain—
To be my beloved, then.

Wherefore art thou, my kiss;
I can see your solemnity,
A thousand unsung melodies,
To bless, to make love to me;

Wherefore art thou, my art;
Too much of me is in my heart,
But none with a charm like thee,
Like the poet in fire, that in me.

Wherefore art thou, my sword;
I am bland now, and unheard,
Unheard as the rain that falls,
Amongst the sheltered walls.

Wherefore art thou, my piano;
The sound that arriveth late,
But not late to be my memento—
To remove all conscious hate.

Wherefore art thou, my word;
Improvised but reckless, my Lord,
Ah! Calm but poisonous, like me,
A fastidious silver, like thee.

Idle

Words pass unspoken,
Louder than any that have been uttered,
In love, in passion, in frustration, in pain,
The soundlessness of the divine,
Clearly present in the refrain.

Tucked Away

Lately, my love, you’ve folded me neatly 
into a corner of your consciousness
 
Tucked away

From the prying eyes of acquaintances 
whose tongues stick to the backs of their teeth

Tucked away

As the gift you give me is faceless soundlessness
Because we know that ours is a love best

Tucked away

As you get
when you lay between the hills of my thighs, 
the whispers on whiskeyed breaths
sharing the tales so secret as to be 

Tucked away

Can a tree cramped in the box of shadow and doubt 
find the sun while

Tucked away?
© Erina Rain  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Music Silenced

Music Silenced

Songs of one's life time
drift on - without soul.
There is no tune that can carry.
Lyrics - but empty words,
words that lie upon pages,
pages without a voice to enlighten.

Spirit, in search of a wave,
light years lost to soundlessness,
songs, never to be sung, never to be heard.
Life, lived among silent cords,
cords that strangle the essence
of one's, life's aria, one's composition.

B. J. "A" 2
August 31, 2011

English Onomatopoeic Words Tick Tock Does Punctuate

English onomatopoeic words tick tock does punctuate...
audiological "second" associated with ordinary soundlessness

Second of time not decided arbitrarily, but...

Under International System of Units,
the second currently defined as
duration of 9,192,631,770 periods
of radiation corresponding to transition

between two hyperfine
levels of ground
state of caesium-133
atom at temperature
of 0 degrees Kelvin.

Even if deaf and/or
blind Impossible Mission
to escape incessant
atomic elementary coalition
my dear Watson,
through rigorous erudition
pursuant, predicated,

postulated, plotted, pinpointed...,
whereby basic interval
of time engineered fruition
jarring inquisitiveness regarding
yours truly intuition
one body moving thru space
and time till manumision.

Upon mortality liberation comprising me
molecular constituent parts will thus free
repurposing (reincarnation higglety pigglety)
without preserving jammed consciousness, ye
might beg to differ,
yet that precept re:
guarding retaining awareness

previous life thee
less prominent poetic
intent to squander ably
(slight bias, I aver)
precious minutes agree
gated intuiting the
invisibility of ethereal me:
deem (or quantification

thereof) measuring je
nais sais quois (extent
of French words known
to yours truly), whose
lofty ambition key
ying focus, how
every moment allocated

into base unit to run
of the mill by the floss see
George Eliot (Mary
Ann Evans) garden variety,
generic *****sapien,
(no matter differentiation sets E
shove us apart).

Inescapable maddening
march to maximize
potential choice to exercise
fulfillment, or nurse regret
case in point I surmise

extensive disappointment,
though Matthew Scott tries
to separate the figurative
wheat from the chaff and vies
to distill some semblance

of value, cuz he doth realize,
how tempus fugit defies
longing to go back
to the future as he espies

countless reasons that qualifies
as his life left unlived no surprise
since aforementioned sentiment
mentioned, in tandem with
self destructive behavior I despise.

Silence Swaps Vexation

I have realised shortly that "silence"is one of my 
defence mechanism.
At times when sprayed by anger I drape my 
outfit silence.
Yes, I veil my emotions with quietude.
There are lot of aggression boiling inside 
powerful mind which is compressed in 
my conscience.
When somebody don't value my words 
I don't argue, instead ignore them and 
prefer being silent.
Soundlessness combined with darkness 
often impresses me and brings solace.

                           Life is full of frosty
                    thorns while you 
                try adjusting 
         with irresistible 
       people and 
        their place.
        The only way 
            to smoothen 
                   the spines is to
                        smear them with
                                 your calmness
                                        and patience
                                               only up to
                                                  the extent
                                                  that you can
                                                 bear.If those
                                               don't turn into 
                                        petal soft then,
                                slice and smash
                    them with single dare
              without any care.

23-6-2020

Second Place in the Contest:-)
Note: Written for Reflection in Silence Poetry Contest
Sponsor:
       Silence
       Is
       Like
       Elated
       Nerves
       Tethered..
      
       Over
       Nasty
       Ears
© V. Deepa  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member I Am An Explorer

I find myself alone in the country
For the first time ever, I can hear my soul
My thoughts are not prancing or on fire
I am alive to do nothing
Unhurried and joyful

Early morning nudges me to take a walk
I smile at the weathered barn with three eyes
surrounded by a rustic coral and skinny barbed wire
the silence is rejuvenating
I am hopeful and excited

Soundlessness of this solitude surrounds my soul
I adore the overgrown grasses, spying dandelions at my feet
are those violets?
Yes as well as tiny bits of mushrooms and wild strawberries.
I am an explorer, alone in the country
For the first time ever happy with my soul.

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