Best Unvoiced Poems
sleep feels like an abandoned lover;
heart weeps like a wilted flower..
wings of the sun, soaked with sapphire dust,
rise and sparkle; like sea salt in the air,
twilight cascades upon my skin~
wearing your perfumed memories,
I long to see your silken silhouette,
swirling behind the thick veil of shimmering silence,
but I do not know the lyrics,
to sing these thoughts in spellbinding melodies,
so like always, I sit and scribble,
your name in rosy refrains and messy metaphors,
too vague for those almond eyes..
perhaps, citrine stars would transcribe these emotions,
for I’ve long been writing in seclusion,
of the lotus moon in your midnight skies,
of the constellations of butterflies…
Yet, I am the unvoiced verse,
nestled within the waltzing lines
of timeless nostalgia~woven from flawless feathers…
Do I dare look at you when I walk these streets?
Chase your shadow as it crawls under my feet?
For I have walked my way through
These pleasant, summer nights
Trailing any trace of you in amber
Street lights.
Hearing the laughter of men and women
Drunken behind bars, their obliviousness
Billowing with the smoke of cigars
And once again I begin to wonder
In these thoughts that shatter, asunder
Of how unvoiced these nights have become.
The scent of scones melting in tea
The sugar, the beach, the creamed coffee
How foolish do I ought to be?
How much emotion becomes too much for me?
And the sun that strokes the clouds at sea
And hides its rays amongst them-
I watch… as all this beauty encircles me.
My eyes see not the glamorous dream
That has been haunting the lives of many it seems
The loveliness of love and its glimmering gleam
The word that is only word
That dream that is only dream.
For I have seen it on all these smiley faces,
Hurried looks, and warm embraces
Can’t you see?
How we all have been entangled in one giant
Web of emotion?
Is there ever a place between Wordsworth’s
Daffodils and Poe’s Raven?
I walk these streets listening to a busker
Play his harmonica-
As I flip a coin into his flipped hat,
I wonder
How different we are, him and me
Or are we?
Restricted we are to language and time,
Enslaved in memory, engaged in rhyme
How much easier it is to think of you and me
Rather than the misleading amounts of
Separating land and sea –illusory-
I observe and am observed as I walk these
Streets, and I feel I know nothing of
Neither you nor me.
The mask I wear, a crafted porcelain guise,
Hides uncharted depths behind these shadowed eyes.
You glimpse the surface—an actor’s polished play—
But the soul beneath? He walks a world astray.
These laughter lines, etched scripts of light and cheer,
Conceal the wars I've waged, the silent fear.
My casual stride, a dance of practiced ease,
Cloaks ancient burdens, whispered on the breeze.
The tales I weave—a tapestry ornate—
Thread vivid joys, yet darker truths await.
Each word I speak, wrapped firm in bold disguise,
Veils restless doubts, unvoiced beneath the skies.
I long to strip this mask and let you peer
Into the fractured core, the flaws sincere.
Yet fear of scorn—a binding, spectral chain—
Keeps truths submerged in quiet, unseen rain.
Perhaps one day, in courage, I’ll reveal
The man unmasked—the wounds that time won’t heal.
Expose the jagged pieces—light and night—
And hope you’ll see a soul, both fierce and slight.
Until that hour, this visage I’ll sustain,
A nameless shadow, hiding depth and pain.
But know, beyond this painted, bright façade,
Dwells more than meets the eye—a soul unflawed.
You arouse the nascent
poetry of my trembling Psyche,
homing the heavy heart of
calm constellations
within this conscience,
teaching sleepless silence
between my sky and your river
to speak the lucent
lexicon of languor ~
I felt you amidst unvoiced verses,
and I k i s s e d the
music within your mind
from a plethora of petals away,
as the truth undressed me
to cleanse the confusion,
while hope embraces
the vulnerability
of being seen ~
the closing of the arms of gloaming
and the opening of the eyes of sunrise…
I breathe metaphors
into the mysterious mists of midnight,
embrace the beauty of darkness
that once drowned my spirit,
for I learned that healing
cares not for the heinous heat
of the Stygian sun,
burning the ink that feeds
the desire to dance
free from the faceless ghosts…
I am the rebloom of the light
I feared
was l o s t in the
landscape of lament…
I choose to bathe
in the warm waters
of jasmine elegance,
sipping sultry star-beams
as my aura flowers ~
a cathartic sanctuary
where your pulse
becomes the life
that ebbs and flows
in sync with the sacred incarnate
of ripples reaching for the
soul beneath my soles ~
reminding me
of the rhythm of resilience,
to no longer allow
time to tear
the written chronicles
that even distance
couldn’t resist.
It’s in the stars; it’s our destiny.
So listen
~ meteor magic ~
O dream-reviver ~
my passion, scripted;
the angels sing of you and me,
lyrics of luck
and love-laden lore…
I watch the harbor through the falling snow
the sky and sea form one vast, gray tableau
the sun is nothing but a weak, background glow
the scene draws me, as if hypnotically.
Five mile’s lighthouse warnings go unvoiced
its strobes not lashing out, so what’s its point
it stands majestically but disappoints
replaced electronically
A tiny lobster boat makes its landward way
towards the inlet from the wider channel bay
a powdery blizzard is underway
which melts into the mirror sea.
Ospreys still hunt round the lobsterman's pride
snowflakes stain them as they soar and glide
other seabirds huddle side by side
shivering and crowing lividly.
Through the narrows the lonely boat steams
past icy Luddington Rock and East Breakwater's breech
its berths and moorings, within minutes reach
and sadly, it’s time for me to leave.
.
.
Songs for this:
Far Far Away (Charles Tone Mix) [feat. Brenda Boykin] by Tape Five
Hypnosis Theme (feat. Marina Quaisse) by Wax Tailor
Gentle on My Mind
You play along the edges,
of every memory worth having.
You have been there since,
I care to look back.
I was stupid,
fearful,
distrustful,
and dangerous.
You… ever were patient,
kind, and slow to anger,
walking a measured gait.
Cowboy,
You speak in a voice,
that melts my heart.
but your real words,
more often are unvoiced,
but always felt,
tangibly… changing
the fixed temperament
left behind,
in the wake of users,
defilers of dreams.
You make me look up at the stars.
You make me find new paths…
You are a cold drink,
to my parched journey.
Now I no longer…
walk alone.
Aum- the sound of universe..
Short summer gave a delicate hue to the enchanting overflowing unborn..
there to my left I saw the horizon clean
and undoubtedly smelled the transparent air
So collected for years..
I saw myself sleeping straight on the waves of the ocean below
And curls running across my flowing hair..
Gripped in the sound of 'Aum',
I felt the softness of the curly bubbles breezing into my quiet skin..
the looseness I saw swinging and swimming all through the ocean and the universe victimized..
Breaking the breath in one jerk,
my conscience revealed the pureness in the pure
and sacrifice pictured,
the white in the bright and
unvoiced, uncorded, unborn witnessed !
Rashmi Pitre (published n copyright work)
Today is a drizzle day,
The softest showers fall,
A rain caress from the grey
clouds above does enthrall ~
Drench my heart, o gentle spray!
A brush of love from on high,
A sprinkling of raindrops,
This light mizzle makes me sigh,
as this trickle ne'er stops ~
Saturate my soul, dear sky!
A tender stroke of warmth moist
dribbles down with levin*,
Cool rains, my spirit they hoist,
Blissful beads on my skin ~
Immerse me in joy unvoiced!
*levin - lightning
When the heart feels the
weight of unvoiced verses,
as the verdant embers of Venus
follow the frozen warmth
and the permafrost flickers
of persimmon and cinnamon,
like poetry slipping through
tortured time,
I stand at the cusp of
withering wishes,
like the silver of Luna phasing
above the lamented lighthouse,
cemented with mistrust,
embedded with uncertainties,
afraid of the crashing crystals
cradling my claustrophobic psyche…
O silent scribblers,
scrolling through words of woe,
forgive my impulsive ink.
I’ve long been a runner,
fleeing familiar fickleness,
exhausted and drained
in the midst of melancholy
that lingers across forlorn pages,
like coldness amidst a summer breeze,
like darkness dwelling
in the driftwood dust
of dawning dreams and rising roses,
rinsed with regrets of musky musings.
I race through miles of solitude,
chasing nirvana,
escaping the shackles
of black-thorn springs,
where breathing seems
like a miscalculated
step to misery and interrogation...
I am a misread flame,
entwined with forgotten footfalls,
reveling in solitude,
where sonnets of love
and elegies of sorrow
no longer pierce my soul,
like rusted steel.
I drown in syllables of zen,
alone but not lonely,
silent but not silenced,
anchored in the aesthetics
of self-love and serenity,
hypothesized by
the hesitant galaxies,
as if I am the conceited constellation
that wanes when
storms stir my senses.
But I refuse to pull the stars
into the hellish arms
of vagueness,
so this is me
saving you from
sweltering soliloquies
while homing
fragments of lucidity on
my own astral avenue…
A note in the wind is released by our soul,
borne of burning yearning to unite with God,
for entwinement alone will make us feel whole,
so in silence we enter our heart unshod,
feeling therein divine bliss, scriptures extol,
becoming the flame itself, that leaves us awed.
Our unvoiced intent thus released into space,
ignites bliss within, as outpourings of grace.
27-October-2022
(not for contest)
Beautiful Lies
One beautiful lie , an unvoiced sonnet
Words veiled with a crime that steals my hearts last beat
Slow turn of your mood shows me disquiet
With kisses warm and vulgar with deceit.
One pulse stills, our love was not the one love,
Just remains of a lukewarm cup of tea.
You steep and brood, one pineing the lost dove.
My broken wing lame, I fall into the sea.
Beautiful lies, my heart begs for your fires
To hear the words forged my way by anvil
Beautiful lies, hope grows dim and expires
Waiting for judgment by divine gavel
Tremble my lips , tears fall dry from my eyes
Protect me from madness, beautiful lies.
Clear undulating waves play tag
with an omnipresent seashore;
each recurring breaker burbles
sounds from an ancient beginning
ebbing back to its salty self
with rhythmic perpetuity.
Subtle unvoiced fricative sounds
echo from sandy, shallow shoals
awash with vacant tiny shells
that once dwelled in this saline soup.
Gray and white gulls hover above
receding breakers scavenging
them opportunistically
in a cacophonous frenzy.
Hide night air from my scent, if you dare.
Hide breathtaking scenes from my view.
Do not hide from me your eyes.
Do not hide the twinkle within,
the unvoiced laughter that gladdens my heart,
the harmonious song that happily
pours forth from those windows,
quiet like sunshine anointing
poppies in a field,
as they raise their heads to kiss the sky.
Do not hide the magnetic allure,
the crease of your eyes that narrows and smiles
a special meaning just for me,
a patient softness that blankets and protects,
drowning out the static around.
My days review
the pain and bias of the world,
as war’s impulse always beats away,
and so frequently life’s echoes
pays homage to sinister mediocrity.
But when I look into your eyes,
the clouds depart and joy bids farewell to gloom,
as chocolate reservoirs invite me in,
and I enter eagerly and willingly,
sampling each delicious, delectable morsel.
My precious one,
the darkest shadow is not forceful enough
to overpower the warmth and intensity
of those mesmerizing pools.
Timeless lights enlighten my life,
day and night
tingling every part of me,
and I savor the tenderness
of your eyes.
I am African, I affirm that i am Original African
untainted, unblenched, unsoiled.
I am African,
with all the dignity of the first human.
unashamed, unbowed, undaunted. I am African.
unique, culturally so.
I am from the people whose origin birthed all others,
the first creatures of Earth.
I am African,
Boldly I declare,
with this strength and sinews affirming,
though they obscure my origin with fabrication,
and contorted the fact with lies,
Yet, my spirit aligning with the truth undeniable, I am African.
Though the glare of calumny opposes,
and unvoiced spite rent my melanin,
I stand unfettered declaring, I am African.
unrestricted traversing the globe,
from this climes to India,
I carry beauty across continents
sowing seeds everywhere.
I bore the heat unblenched.
I retain the goodness of Gold.
This sun does not affright.
it leaves no particles with the scourge.
When you see me touring the Land with strength,
Remember,
I am African.
Poetry can lighten your soul,
soothe the heart,
And convey the message you
want to impart.
Read it carefully, savour the
thoughts of someone who cares
to envision ideas from
their heart.
Inspiration may come in
many forms.
Visualize unvoiced words,
Felt and not spoken.
Given as a gift for all to
enjoy.
Copyright 2008
Anne Rutherford
Poems From The
Heart Series