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.
How empty can an inbox possibly be?
Not unlike a door..... practically off at hinges
The paint is definitely peeling
More than one shutter has fallen astray.
One piece at a time
Have you ever seen that?
How old houses....
the shutters give way one slat at a time
It's almost like watching a clock tick
After 1 year the slat on the front shutter drops by 1/4
of an inch
By year two there are three slats on the front shutter and four on the back falling falling slowly
Drop an inch...drop an inch
small little pieces of wood losing their ballast
By year five the paint's chipping on all of the shutters
you can tell they were all red once or some dreadful pungent green
Then great shards of paint seem to start clinging off of the clapboards too
Can see it almost like a song
plunky pock rock or a slow lanquid sad ballad
a song of one lost a sea or to storm or just decay
the first chip of paint is the first note
and then all of a sudden the whole house seems to want to join in and it's chip chip chip , chuck,chuck pluck pluck plunky plunkity and it's a symphony of lost paint chips like raindrops sound in an empty metal pail
Neglect
nobody cares ....that the shutters are falling apart
and no one cares that the symphony of chips of paint has begun
because nobody lives there anymore and no one is listening except fro teh occasional drive by
If that house was an inbox.
It would understand mine
Such
an empty house
When you're the first person to enter
an empty house...
It's like you're swirling the dust
of the only thing that lives there
elves and fairies and dust dune devils
it's like they know you're there
But there is just the eerie silence
The elves, sprites, ghosts and memories cling to what remains of the tattered curtain...awaiting a...curtain call?
The house is never ever really empty
The walls remember the hands
The ash remembers the fire
The sink can still taste the water and feel the rust
Even the dust on the floorboards remembers what it was like to be mud on a boot or a cell of her skin
An empty house has more inhabitants
than my inbox
in the beginning....My inbox had a voice
Maybe even my in-box remembers
how it once said
"You've got mail"
The king is gone, the table broken,
No words of honor left unspoken,
But only silence, cold and stark,
As I grasp the blade within the dark.
No glint of silver, no holy flame,
Remains to whisper a hero’s name.
Instead, Black Excalibur, cold and vast,
Reflects the shadows of a broken past.
Its edge is heavy with a silent grief,
A hollow promise of no relief.
The weight of the world is etched in its grain,
Binding the soul to an endless rain.
Though it was forged in the fires of old,
Its metal is bitter, its iron is cold.
It does not shine for a kingdom’s rise,
But mirrors the look in a mourner’s eyes.
Misery is the throne where the weary sit,
With a flickering lamp that remains unlit.
The blade is a tether to all that is lost,
A victory claimed at too high a cost.
So the metal stays heavy, the spirit stays low,
With nowhere to turn and nowhere to go.
A legend in shadow, a crown made of lead,
With only the echoes of words never said.
A mirror isn't just a frame,
A sheet of glass that speaks your name.
It shows your image. Yes, it's true–
But now the whole of what is you.
It doesn't bend, it doesn't fake,
It captures truths you cannot break.
But mirror hide in the other forms–
In quiet thoughts, in silence storms.
In words that bruise, in eyes that know,
In shadows you still fear to show.
Not every mirror dare to shine–
some show the crack you called divine.
So ask yourself what mirrors mean–
They’re more than Polished, silver, clean.
They’re, everything that lays you bare–
Your secret grief, your silent prayers,
The mirror speaks without a sound–
It sees the soul where truth is found.
~hira~
The truth is that we are always children, lost in the labyrinth of time with maps drawn from the dreams of the night,
Children with scraped knees from life's falls, with veins like the roots of ancient trees piercing the earth,
Our scars are medals of survival, and age spots are constellations drawn on skin stretched like the sky,
Yet beneath it all, we are the same children, clinging to life with nails dug into the edge of time,
Because we are life itself, a chorus of laughter and tears dancing on the wings of the unending wind.
We remember the days when we ran across endless fields, gathering sunbeams like wildflowers,
When the wind, our accomplice, whispered forgotten stories, and the clouds painted dreams on the clear sky,
Now, under the sky of shadows, we seek the same fragments of light, like fireflies caught in glass jars,
We try to catch in our palms the moments that slipped through our fingers like sand from a broken hourglass,
And in every heartbeat, we feel the unquenchable desire to live, to be, to transform into an eternal story.
In the silence of the night, when the moon casts its silver veil over the world like a mysterious shroud,
We return to ourselves, to the children we were and still are, dancing on the edge of dreams,
We understand that time cannot take our spirit, cannot extinguish the flame that burns within our chests,
Because we are life, in every step, in every breath, an endless song of the universe,
An endless story written on the skin of the cosmos, an eternal whisper floating on the wings of the wind.
Whisper your dreams for me
Into the silence of the morning
Breathe your hopes for me
Into the twinkling of the starlight
Color your yearnings for me
In hues of vibrant anticipation
You are the dream within me
Lifting my heart to new ambitions
You are the hope within me
Encouraging my soul to always believe
You are the wonder within me
Reassuring my spirit of its inspirations
Light up the heavens with your grace
Remind me of the glory I have found
By placing my hand into your hand
Where I know that there is a love
That is greater than any tenderness
This is a love that inspires surrender
You are the peace that fills my soul
The everlasting joy that makes me whole
You are the still, small voice who knows
That I abide in your love, forever a part
Of the miracle you gave to me when I chose
To simply believe in the grace You bring
Remember to answer my every prayer
With your kindness, your immense compassion
The sensitivity that abides in my heart
Because I know You and I know Your light
Rains down gentleness into my spirit
Filling up my heart with lasting certitude
You are the answer to my every need
The One who shows me grace and sincerity
Promises me to bless and sanctify my belief
With goodness that lasts through everything
Securing my life with salvation that brings me
Confirmation that His cross has freed me
I love you, Lord… with love forevermore
Love that believes and agrees
You are the core of my heart and soul
Thank you for delivering me
Your love is the open door to knowing
What it is to believe in God’s Son!
Struggling in the dark to breathe
I flip the light switch underneath
It's glow surrounds me like a wreath
I've landed in a cave
An icy mountain cave
My pod is running out of air
I pop the canopy and stare
An ice cave lighted by my flare
I take a deepened breath
(Is that a tinge of death?)
My focus sharpens, taking stock
A hint of light there, and some rock
I grab supplies and start to walk
Along the purple ice
A cave of purple ice!
I find the sunlight, of all things
But not a sound of wanderings
No flitting buzz of insect wings
Just a horrid silence
Vacant, horrid silence
A vista spreads before my feet
A valley, lakes and trees, replete
Yet not a hint of hearts that beat
Just throbbing in my ears
The throbbing of my fears
No flap of creatures on the wing
No howls or bellows echoing
No noise from ANY living thing
There's something very wrong
Yes, something's deadly wrong
Not long ago there must have been
Here and beyond a wondrous scene
Lifeforms designed in types yet seen
Now, just death's aroma
Putrid death's aroma
Just weeks before we'd scanned this place
From our approach, not far in space
'Twas full of life and not a trace
Of ANYthing to fear
No pathogens to fear
How could this splendid landscape lay
With trees and plants, from hills to bay
Yet ALL be in such deep decay?
Not a creature living
Not a thing left living!
The smell was overwhelming rot
The more I breathed, the more I fought
To not expel upon that spot
All that was inside me
All that lay inside me
Just months behind me, colonists
Builders, couples, biologists
And naught but this apocalypse
To welcome their sad eyes
Just ghastly mass demise
What caused this ruin here was grand
A cataclysm, air and land
An answer I MUST have in hand
Before my friends arrive
Or we will not survive
No, we will not survive ...
Not one soul left alive.
Butterflies know the meaning of life upon transformation
They flit, flutter, and dazzle the flowers into their confidence
You have that way about you, listening with your full heart
Knowing I need a sounding board but silence not suggestion
Like luna moth,
You are my listening man
My happily forever after
The one who understands
My need for silence
Dragonflies incorporate the gift of silence into twilight
They appear in spirit form, giving me a gentle boost
You have that way about you, loving me in spite of my frailties
Ignoring the way I sometimes misspeak or mistreat you
Like luna moth,
You are my listening man
My happily forever after
The one who understands
My need for silence
If money were just withered leaves carried by the wind,
I would open a small flower shop on a forgotten street,
where days drift by slowly, and the air smells of fresh, gentle rain,
and the wind always carries the scent of clear mornings.
I would live alone in an old cottage,
deep in the mountains, where the trees are tall and the clouds descend slowly,
and the rest of the world becomes a distant echo, a whisper lost in memories.
There would be no one else, no people, no noise,
just me and the silence I’ve always sought,
a silence that embraces the soul like a velvet cloak.
I wouldn’t truly be alone,
for my silent friends would keep me company,
gentle cows and horses running free through the fields,
sleepy cats curled up in my lap,
birds singing symphonies of freedom.
My days would be soft and simple,
waking up in the golden light of the sun,
preparing my tea or coffee in my favorite mug,
reading sweet stories under warm blankets,
writing secret verses hidden in drawers.
I’d spend the afternoons gathering flowers,
baking chocolate or vanilla cakes,
cooking dishes to my heart’s content,
walking the horses and reading books among the trees.
I’d press flowers in old books,
listening to the wind whispering through the leaves,
writing poems and stories just for myself,
knowing no one will call, no one will come.
And I wouldn’t want it any other way.
My love floats across the ground of my eyes.
Coming nearer to unravel love's heart,
And claim reason for its deeper sighs.
To lift these eyes, joyous love to impart.
The space between compresses ever slow.
As hearts pound deeper in their reddest flame.
To fill the distance with its golden glow,
And hold the tethered heart,this love will claim.
These lips now touched, a quivering realm.
A hunger found when quiet flesh converge.
This breathless silence comes to overwhelm,
And frees the spirit, to again immerge.
This face of beauty held with gentle hands.
A timeless world eternal love demands
12/10/15
After the shatterings, the fires.
After the fires, the darkness,
With darkness, the heartless cold.
After the dark and the cold
Had confirmed their dominion of the world,
Their ministers, Fear and Silence
Made their home among the remnants.
After communication was rejected.
After tolerance got dropped by the wayside
Prejudice battened fat on the tasteless fruits of ignorance,
We cast aside the desire for progress
Choosing instead to believe in shadows we built of nothing
Firmly set in one another's minds
Until at last the day came when we said,
"Let us purge the world of anyone who claims it.
Let us see they inherit the dust."
We assured one another of destruction,
Founding security on a glass sheet of terror
That shuddered beneath us
Weighting our illusion of safety
With load on load of suspicion.
No voice rose in protest, though the danger was clear to all.
We believed our leaders knew better than we,
Doubt was a weakness
Disbelief, heresy.
So we skated on thin ice a long while,
Until at last it broke, and dropped us through to the Nightmare Moments
When the planet itself trembled beneath us
While Civilization slew itself,
The work of millennia scattered like chaff.
All that was left
After the horror faded
Was this ragged chaos
Through which we, bit players left wandering the stage
Drift, lost and desperate, until the curtain falls.
We sit and sift ashes for memories,
Splinters of things that once held meaning.
Journeying the cold wilderness of our making
The landscape of walking, murmuring dead
Nobility of soul becomes a luxury all desire
But none can afford.
Last night I heard four horses approach
Down the broken highway out of the ruins.
Beside it I thought I saw Dante's ghost weeping
To know that now, madness is a gift.
I joined the others gathered by a feeble hearth
Guttering in the bones of a building.
We dined together on the hollow flesh of emptiness.
From cups of salt we drank our tears.