Long Silence Poems
Long Silence Poems. Below are the most popular long Silence by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Silence poems by poem length and keyword.
Under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve when the children are finally asleep, a blessed silence hovers in the air that oozes with divine melody. I have to gasp as I look out my window and find a new dusting of snow glistening in the moonglow. How perfect is this enchanted night~ I swear up in the sky that must be the star of Bethlehem I see.
chaste christmas snowflakes
soft with anticipation ~
a most holy night
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Submitted on November 20, 2019 for contest DECEMBER OR JANUARY HAIBUN sponsored by CAREN KRUTSINGER - RANKED 2ND
The crowd bows,murmuring praises,I wear their borrowed wreath,
Ink still wet in their trembling tongues that seek to canonize passion,
They crown my silence,yet my words outlive their marble-
laurel blazes like Gin!Gin!I Love You.(1)
Call me Fear Fokol,(2) oligarchies crumble under verse,
Maspalas (3) fade into dust while marimbas (4) endure,
They misquote me all the time,vorstaan vokol, dololo (5)
Still I forgive them
I did not write for cabinets,but for fevered hearts,
For the silenced whistleblower humming my forbidden name-
My Laurel burns bright like White City Jabavu (6)
Explanation of click sounds of my home village:
1. Gin!Gin!I love You!-This is the safest way for friends visiting to pronounce uMgungundlovu District Municipality in KwaZulu-Natal Province,South Africa. For God's sake leave the pronouncing alone if you're tipsy and you're walking on a slippery road.
2. Fear Fokol: means Fear Nothing and is what the honorable ministers like to call themselves when they intimidate each in their sardine rush to see who can loot from the public purse in record time,as soon as they are appointed to positions of power.
3. Maspalas: Municipality/Municipalities in disguise but in reality crime scenes of assassinations,etc,etc
4. Marimbas: Musical instrument you want played day when you marry or go on a hot date.
5. vorstaan-understand/comprehend
vokol-nothing
dololo-like previous.But ask the Nigerians/West Africans
6. White City,Jabavu-There' an ongoing beef between me and W C J if explain now that exposes my location to my ex and somebody will lose big time.
Clutched jaw, grinding teeth against pulp,
until ash and blood coat a deadened tongue.
The nightsong quiets—a pulsating silence encapsulates the land
as I walk up to a pyre built of withering dreams and deadly nightshade.
The cold, bitter air brushes against protruding flesh.
Looking toward the skies, faith stripped and shamed,
I climb and take my place among my ancestral spirits.
The silence of the night breaks, with chants of *Burn the witch* filling the void.
Leering eyes and foaming mouths scream obscenities my way.
But even among this fanatic freakshow, I hold on to my dignity.
I do not let them see the fear festering beneath my eyes,
nor does my lip quiver.
With insurmountable strength, I hold my head high
as I watch the torches preparing to set me ablaze.
Closing my eyes one final time, I breathe in everything I have ever held dear.
Memories flood—of loves lost and gained,
of the changing seasons,
of my connection to this glorious earth.
I can feel the flames licking at my feet now.
But I will not scream,
for my resurrection will come soon enough.
WINTERS HOUSE
Black, bare in despair
alone to nowhere
On a corner crossroads to everywhere
Sits a house half-forgotten
a house full of itself and memories
Dark and Bright in a place out of time
Out of sight, silent and rare.
Haunted with this and that
winter covers
its eves,
only bones of rats
Broken dolls, toys after a wars drone
Sits and fights the aftermath
Coldwind drifts
Downy flakes of winter cover its lawn
A frozen frosting in white
Something floats
aloft adrift in a sea
of purity infinity,
its shingles are a miss
The wind is brisk
Something shutters sits still
Here in the middle of nowhere
In silence of graves
only Ravens rave of wars
Past victories won
Birth barely begun
lives lived out fast
And only the winters last
A winters house full of nothing and everything
Of fragments of memory,
furniture tattered, worn
Bits of cloth, torn
on drafts born cold wind scorns
Dishes cracked crazy in filigree
Photographs faded at last
Ferment of history
A winters House
When my honeyed fave took a flight
To travel all through the sleepless night
I thought we would time after time converse
But sullen stillness is all I get from the airs terse.
I hope that tinted hawk still bears you harmless
And remains under the tight harness of its jess.
I trust that the glitzy mate always staring back
Has not twisted your doubting mind off the track.
The color of the new scenes must not offend
The dear flames that all worries shortly send;
The novel surrounds should instead ever inspire
The passions that rekindle love’s cuddling fire.
Babe, patience is rare for to wait is to nearly die;
Honey, to fake to have all calm is to shamelessly lie.
I’m jealous of the sullen silence and envious of the air
For while I miss you, the two have you from toe to hair.
Silently waiting for the score
The tear that rips me
The tear that opens
you .
The tear that I cry.
Open ended
The one which tears us apart.
The small voice I hear
Tearing into you.
The silence I dread as it means only that one thing
Dreadful deadness!
Where the hope is gone
With an echo calling you
Thunderous it pales away
Pulling
Into the being that is the
Crying
softly into the darkness
So silently it moves into the thunderous beat of my heart
Painful as it descends.
I yearn for the peace of the silence
But not the silence of my peace
As it peals
Peels
Into my heart.
SHOUT LOUD NOW!
Peel away the layers upon my broken heart.
Form:
They stare at me like they’re searching
for horns that were never there,
as if the Shadow at my back
must mean I crawled up from the pit.
But they never understood:
the Shadow follows me
because it recognizes its king.
I walk through their whispers untouched,
their labels sliding off my skin
like rain off obsidian.
They want me small,
want me guilty,
want me bowed.
But I was not built for their comfort.
I was built for legacy.
My Shadow is not a curse —
it is my inheritance.
It is the place where I learned
to see without eyes,
to hear without sound,
to rise without applause.
It is where I forged myself
in silence and in fire.
Let them look for horns.
Let them search for the devil
they need me to be.
All they will find
is a man who survived
every lie, every exile,
every attempt to break him.
And above my head,
glowing with the weight of everything
I refused to surrender,
is the truth they fear most:
I don’t have horns.
I have a crown.
A crown carved from nights
I should not have lived through,
a crown polished by every insult,
every dismissal,
every time they tried to make me
less than what I am.
I am the legacy they underestimated.
I am the Shadow they could not outrun.
I am the man who turned their fear
into sovereignty.
And when they finally look up,
when they finally see me clearly,
they will understand:
The Shadow was never proof of my fall.
It was proof of my throne.
"Just living is not enough. One must have sunshine,
freedom, and a little flower." Hans Christian Andersen
NATURE SAVES THE DAY
The raven splendor of the woods —
fathomless birth of birds in song.
I’ve lost myself. I’ve found silence
of mortal vows - can do no wrong.
Breathless the cadence of freedom —
my feet wrapped in wondrous blisters.
The bears tip their hats, admire me.
Arcadian does are my sisters.
Beautiful emerald green folk —
the shadow’d forest canopy.
My hair glistens after its soak —
loud petrichor and dripping leaves.
Thread of my dream like golden wings
as my nightmare lays next to me —
I tiptoe first steps into the dark.
Scissors cut battered apron strings.
Serenity’s gate on a horse.
A salvaged heart awaits a prince.
Sincere eyes ready for a bride.
Thwarted thistles of providence.
3/1/2020
Writing Prompt - Ten Words Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Dear Heart
Word List: thread, heart, silence, hair, beautiful,
dark, green, birds, fathomless, breathless
Life feels so incomplete,
Without a real soulmate to greet.
Illusion of lovers everywhere,
But true love's embrace is rare.
Garden flowers keep me company,
The roses' beauty mirrors her face tenderly.
Jasmine's fragrance swirling in the air,
Bringing her presence close, almost there.
A timeless beauty waited at my door,
Cherry blossom adorned her hair,
Now silence falls, peaceful and deep,
Rustic charm lies where memories sleep.
In a world of synthetic lights so bright,
Neon love dreams emanate from the city night.
Swirling like fog in the crisp night air,
Modern life with rustic charm to share.
In the silence, music awakens
A symphony of emotions, heartbeats, and whispers
A language that transcends words, speaking directly to the soul
With every note, a memory unfolds
A tapestry of moments, woven with love and gold
The melody whispers secrets, of joy and sorrow untold
In the rhythm, we find our pulse
A cadence that synchronizes, our heartbeats in perfect truce
The harmony of humanity, a chorus of unity and peace
Through the melody, our stories unfold
A kaleidoscope of experiences, refracted through the heart of gold
The music weaves a narrative, of trials, triumphs, and love that's old
In the silence between the notes, we find our truth
A reflection of our deepest selves, in the echoes of our youth
The music whispers secrets, of who we are, and who we'll become
With every chord, a memory revives
A flashback of moments, suspended in the harmony of life
The music revives our passions, and the love that we hold inside
In the rhythm, we find our strength
A cadence that empowers, our hearts to beat with length
The harmony of humanity, a chorus of resilience and pride
Through the melody, our emotions flow
A river of feelings, that ebb and flow, as the music grows
The music carries our hearts, on a journey of self-discovery and growth
In the silence, music awakens
A symphony of emotions, heartbeats, and whispers that remain
A language that transcends words, speaking directly to the soul, again and again