Best Speechlessness Poems
Once, I’d stood beside a man
Who, with heart and soul o’erwrought,
Silently searched for answers, but answers found him not.
His sister recently had passed from Earthly life to next,
And left her brother standing, filled with emptiness.
We stood within a classroom, throbbing with life and youthful confidence,
Listening to strangers speak of futures in terms of choice and providence.
When above the din of music and deafening teenaged discourse,
I thought I heard his spirit cry
“What choices do we truly have-when comes the time to die?”
How? and why? His queries all began
Echoing voices of a preceding time, to which my mind sped swiftly in reverse
To that moment when I’d stood besides another man,
Who, with sighing, held his sister in his thoughts, and in
Speechlessness did he with her converse,
Wondering, each, about his dying.
We’d stood within a bustling airport crowd,
Listening with half-ears to strangers chatting,
With boisterous busy-ness about their day’s importance.
While I, in their unawareness, sought a way to say goodbye
To a man whose life linked mine; by merit of our birth and love.
Fore’er, our hearts entwined.
I looked then to my brother’s face and thought
How does one rout this wretched misery?
Where does one turn to quell the pain?
What choices do I really have to make my loved one well and whole again?
From all cancerous affiliations, a remedy we then sought.
So now a brother and a sister stood, reflecting upon what went before.
From science and from God, we asked from both a comfort and a cure.
My friend, the questions asked by you
Were those the same by me,
And though we asked the questions,
The answers to the whys and hows
Unheeded they did go
Though in their stead One Truth was given-
It is not in the dying that choices can be made,
But in the way we do our living.
Categories:
speechlessness, angst, brother, cancer, confusion,
Form:
Rhyme
In the speechlessness
of your breathlessness,
I breathe vigorously
to arouse your former arising,
too afraid to touch
a corpse in the making.
Could another's spare years
restore your time?
Could another's breath
bring back your air?
Could my hyperventilation,
like our blended heart,
be split in half to share?
Categories:
speechlessness, bereavement, death, giving, grief,
Form:
Free verse
Grip my hips,
The taste of your lips,
Gliding finger tips,
Whispering lullabies in my ear,
Hold me tight with a love embrace,
Leaving speechlessness in my trace,
Sing me the words “I love you so”
Tell me you will never let me go,
Gaze longingly in my eyes when face to face,
Be the strength in my weaknesses,
Lead my heart on a wild beating race,
Love me with tender everlasting kisses,
Forgive me for my sinfulness,
Be the arms that will catch me when I fall,
All I want is you,
No matter what we go through,
Lead me through the path of truth,
You are forever my love that I will always hold onto.
Categories:
speechlessness, loveme, love, me,
Form:
Deep as defeat as conspicuous
As the influx of presentiment
Passion is aimless humility
Panic is native to injury
Reasoning divulging odium
Sparkles unchosen but chemical
Puritans' speechless delivery
Idles in syllables neutral to
Carpet biology tapestries
Woven in Persian but personal
Surfaced in diamonds and sodium
Burnishing flavorful scaffolding
Sauntering over the savagery
Blanketing social impurity
Witnesses! Silence the speechlessness!
Caution the ignorant eagerly!
Woe as the end of the suffering
Millions of eyes as the visual.
Categories:
speechlessness, inspiration,
Form:
Epic
A glazed view, as through a glass that magnifies
Between the granite banded with blue and umber
Cruel paths of glacier, ancient swords of hunger
Deeply carved a threshold one can hardly grasp
Each turn of compass, leaves a gasp
Forever brings our talking to a halt
Green rivers whipped to white by waterfalls
How gaunt the pines climb high upon the ridge
Itself, a place exempt from time
Justifies belief of Godly kind
Keeping watch above a valley floor
Looming monoliths of ancient lore
Morning bright of shimmering brooks that flow
Next brings winter breezing through the mind
Ours the privilege of beholding
Past and futures coming here together
Question not the overwhelming wonder
Relished eyes behold the truthful splendor
Saturates the heart and soul forever
That if one stands too long within such glory
Under white peaks and folklore stories
Varying degrees of speechlessness and thrill
With sun above, and human form so small
Xanadu is not of fiction, it is real
Yosemite, this place, this land of royal grace
Zenith, this land of majesty, my eyes and heart embrace
________________________________________________________________________
Inspired by Deborah Guzzi's contest: "Do You Know Your A B C s?"
Dedicated to My Dad....Where he spend his childhood
Categories:
speechlessness, inspirational, nature, placesheart, heart,
Form:
ABC
A small group of survivors,
Heading towards the hostile planet mars,
One spaceship, one ride, no return,
Looking back to what was left of earth,
As it faded into the far distance,
Was there any hope?
For human kind,
Or did man become too intelligent,
That it destroyed itself,
Were we the lucky few or not?
What will we face?
On the red volcanic toxic planet,
Doomed before arriving?
Would we build then destroy?
Could we survive?
Freezing adverse weather,
Build airtight buildings,
Or live in caves,
Create oxygen,
Grow food! Keep warm,
Do we have enough food?
How long would we last?
Nobody new,
Quietness and speechlessness,
Darkness abounded,
Fear and dread,
As we moved through the sky,
Would mars be kind to us?
Or live up to its reputation,
Man of war!
Heading into the unknown,
Families left behind,
Loved ones were gone,
Venturing into new future,
Mars would be our new earth,
Was our only chance,
Will mars destroy us?
Or we mars.
Is there alien life forms?
Another unknown enemy,
Besides ourselves.
Wars again,
Or this time, learn peace?
Who would rule us?
Or would we be free,
Life on mars.
06/05/2016
For competition
Sponsor Brian Davey
Categories:
speechlessness, poems,
Form:
Free verse
if you call her a mere housewife
you've only provoked an infinite conversation
on how, and why ,is a womans life
ready they are to take a national stance
like an old,dusty,but effiecient rifle
tired of familiar house and chores
unmindful of the dishes,they can lie
while they pursue much ,much,more
beyond and farther than meets the eye
whetted also to be an economies core
unto the existence of prfessonalism they cling
than house-work,the world is so changed now
and gender is more of an equal thing
tha speechlessness,like a dumb cow
the woman won't settle for lesser anything
patient slow walking as she was created
the woman has creeped into anoutspoken figure
than for the peculiarity of the breasts,or long curls
twisted ,or seperated
she has taken her place,among noble heights
Categories:
speechlessness, family, woman,
Form:
Blank verse
turning down the volume
that is what i am thinking as i am blinking
grabbing the last bottle of cream soda
that is my mental escape from a wrath i cannot comprehend
imagining you naked and ready to go down
that is the way i uplift myself while you are bringing me down
the grenade in my brain is on the brink of exploding
the balloon of my self esteem is at the dangerous edge of imploding
the merger of the two is unseen due to the sour blindness of the moment
the spittle burns like a near death experience on Christmas day
the accusations decapitate like a merciless machete moonlighting
the end is the beginning of the minuscule additional
our love has been uprooted by a hurricane so petty and unnecessary
speechlessness post descension is the new loquatious
bye bye sweet valentine era....it was nice pre-post-construction
Categories:
speechlessness, love hurts,
Form:
Free verse
Sometimes I get trapped in speechlessness
Wondering if my words are less
Weighing no stress
An address to address quiet minds from distress
Holding my voice in hand
I thrive to speak my mind
Openly, freely and quietly
Stressing on bitter truths with all serenity
Boldly confronting all fears clothed in insanity
Moving away from the ordinary
I find myself in a garden with my diary
And remain speechless
Categories:
speechlessness, abuse, caregiving, character, children,
Form:
Verse
They say beauty is skin deep
I've found an exception
For yours is a form
That of perfection
You are smart
You are sweet
And filled with mystic
You leave me
At a loss for words
For your beauty is more stunning
Than any man deserves
For you posses such a fire
Of which i can't help
To desperately desire
Not only does your beauty
Distinctly divide you,
Your personality alone
Is what absolutely defines you
Never have i met
A more brilliant young woman
You are so very rare
For you have the pair
Of beauty and cunning
Your as hot as the sun
Yet there are no words
That truly describe you
I could write a whole book
And still not define you
For you are the kind of woman
That a man of the past
Would give a whole empire
Just to kiss you ,at last
Often it's intimidating
To proposition you into dating
For men render into speechlessness
In the presence of a goddess
Categories:
speechlessness, love, passion, people, beauty,
Form:
Romanticism
Words hanging from parched branches confused and betrayed
Under a canopy of shadows in the recess of belittled thoughts
A prison of speechlessness bereft of expression and meaning
Letters motionless in disarray fighting lost battles lonely at heart
Starved streams of consciousness as a willow weeps in the wind
Seedless dispersion of illiterate drought at the edge of the tree
Reason and feeling disunited under a regime of torturous silence
Not even black ink on charcoal where fire should liberate passion
A scrabble of incongruence submerged under ashes of emptiness
What if there was no poetry and the writer was shackled and numb
Dead inside an alphabet of syllables refused collaboration and script
Naked to a helpless core of scorched earth void and festering agony
A scribe in handcuffs and the hangman tightening a noose of contempt
For the chorus of voices unable to shout from roof tops and watchtowers
While a tongue tied writer awaits his sentence for the crime of free speech
Drowned in his ink pot like a convicted witch at society’s illegitimate court
Or frying at the stake of burnt books at a show trial of unlettered verdicts
Misunderstood misspelt hung and quartered to the applause of division
A ballade-monger sings his swan song before the apocalypse rules out
The appeal to common sense for an elegist prepared for a final encore
As the final curtain is stuffed in between lips and amphora of metaphors
No one can say that they have not been forewarned of overt perpetration
Were merely following orders to suppress revolutions of evident trespass
That they deemed degenerate what disagreed with a deep currency of fear
And yet if one rhyme survived a single epilog remained on a grave stone
Just one cemetery of unmarked burial sites lived on etched into history
Poetry could not be killed for freedom is much stronger than censure
20th January 2020
Categories:
speechlessness, poems,
Form:
Free verse
Normalcy seemed to resound
like a year-end brag letter,
for out of reach are those possibilities
when locked up in a ward.
Voices itched inside her body
and creepies crawled along her skin.
Scheduled meds didn't cessate this,
just kept the demons from screaming
loud enough for others to hear.
I ask about her, in cordial simplicity,
through our sporadic letter correspondence,
but those words only fill a void
that speechlessness requires,
for I know she isn't well.
Unable to contribute to society
must be a burden of worthlessness.
Long term, she hasn't seen
the trials of the outside world,
only the weight of sin within.
No muscular arms carry that weigh with love
and no one receives her vain attempts.
Many boyfriends have left
over a decade ago
and took her sanity with them.
Possible opportunities of redemption
are now ghosts that taunt.
I flounder for words
to tell her plainly about
what's going on with my life.
Marriage, kids, home, hobbies, a job,
all common things, generic to many,
seem like a year-end brag letter,
for in her life
all these things
could have been,
but are now far out of reach.
Instead, I prayerfully and artfully inscribe
just one phrase, and only this,
"Happy spring, a new beginning."
5/30/20
Categories:
speechlessness, loss, memory, mental illness,
Form:
Free verse
The day my life went ape ‘chit’ in no more than three-hundred words
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch counts
And pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis works wonders
When I am asked to write a poem that is either precise or reductionist
Thus I report from my personal lock down epicentre of home isolation
With free advice to conquer the gremlins of free speech and contagion
Firstly pretend you are German because one compound nouns fills a page
Then rediscover hyphenation and have a match with auto-correct settings
Or pick up the challenge and find those scrabble pieces under the couch
Next to valuable coins a few toe-nails or belly-ring to gather your thoughts
Pasta shapes with letters and letterpress cookies are essential food items
You will find them on shelves in shops where the loo roll had previously been
On that delicate matter it might be worthwhile to consider what colloquy
You can fit on a single ply sheet used sparingly on both sides in dire need
Word counts are useful to pass the twenty seconds it takes to wash hands
But remember to spell hyphenation-control-centre with a dash of content
Consider that a pencil is sharp on one end if you poke fun on the toilet
My wife still bears a charcoal tattoo from when a soft roll in satin sheets
Gifted an indelible reminder that pleasure and pain work hand in hand
A carefully calligraphed dot to dot surely trumps auto-generated novels
Unwrap fortune cookies and proof read for the true meaning of spells
Whatever tickles your fanny until cohabitational glow fades in the face
Of adversity calling for regaining control over figures of speechlessness
Blank page …?
One last piece of counsel and guidance for a true minimalist poet or scribe
‘I love you’ works well all you have to do is repeat one-hundred times
28th March 2020
Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogochis the name of a
small town in the North of Wales
pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis lurks in the shadow of corona
Poem written for Caren Krutsinger's contest 'The day my life went whacko'
Word count exactly three hundred words
Categories:
speechlessness, encouraging,
Form:
Free verse
COMMONPLACE PHRASIS part 2
Humble stirrings in our own sphere,
a diary of retrospective truths,of passing
fads of intervening years,a reasonance of
lyrical feelings,hand-penned.These mysterious
centres of thought formed into poetry
pictures,intangible ,but to feel& see,
a speechlessness,a fascination of agreeable
word music,realised &conceived as a talking
glass of emotion&intellect.Moving images writ
large throwing sunlight on the mundane,with
a capacity to evoke emotion,an interest in novelty
colours imagination,encapsulates everlasting truths
striking chords common to all,longlasting,ongoing satisfying.
From Retrospective a commonplace book 2009
Listen to me recite this part phrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthys chiro
Categories:
speechlessness, poetry,
Form:
Bio
At close distance sounds the bugle,
melancholia conceived and born,
notes eschewing warmth in
the dewy shades of dawn.
Of this sadness, numb and heavy,
laden with ingots of lead,
symbols of speechlessness
for words that never were said.
They hang black anvils in our minds,
weighted notions that descend,
dispense regret for time laid waste
our sadly absent friend.
We knew of his illustrious flame,
commemorate the smiles he gave,
and send our love ingenuously
beyond the refuge of his grave.
And ringing in our ears
the early last post euphony,
spreads sails of grief and lore
as but for the Grace of God go we.
Categories:
speechlessness, death, life, loss, sad,
Form:
Verse