Mute Poems

I understood you in your silence, an ocean of ice under mute stars

I understood you in your silence, an ocean of ice under mute stars,
where the shadows of time weigh heavily, a mountain of unspoken ash,
your struggles, heavy curtains, hide cries of a shattered heart,
shards of fallen stars, scattered on fields forgotten by the wind.
Your nights, sleepless, just broken mirrors in which you get lost,
you see yourself

Am I on mute?

does no one hear me
are my words merely empty space
does no one speak my language
am i just a stranger in a crowd
alone in this sea of bodies
that perpetually pass me by




AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Mute, No More

Today, March 8th is International Women’s Day. After centuries of relentless struggle, are women happier today…? Can’t say! Despite all claims to equality and progress, women are still at the back seat struggling to balance between her work and domestic chores. Alarmingly assaults on women have skyrocketed in our land than never before, especially in

In the abyss of gazes, where silence screams mute and deep

In the abyss of gazes, where silence screams mute and deep,
The chasm stares back, a vortex gathering abstract emotions,
I offer it my fears, aspirations, and unspoken truths,
It swallows them all, leaving an unyielding void in my chest.
There exists a lexicon of despair, with sharp, cutting phonemes,
With discordant cadence, yet solace in graceful harmonies,
An elegy reminding

When the heart breaks

When the heart breaks like a stone,
sometimes we lose our words
just like a pre-civilization mute
and we cry and moan,
in hurt, in anger, and in deepest of pain,
and then we regain
the words, as we put the pieces of our heart 
back together,
put on the mask and start to act again.

(11.28.2024)
   

Love is a Quiet Verb

When love is too loud, and lurid,
it languishes in lewd, lusty lakes.

When love is silent, and steadfast,
it sings sweetly with soft waves on sea shores.   

When love is motionless and mute, 
it meanders to black mold and makes miserable, monotonous marshes.

So let me
 love thee silently, softly,
with actions, 
with adjectives and valiant verbs.

A mute vow, ancient as time itself, that spans between us

A mute vow, ancient as time itself, that spans between us,
Is a smile knotted in a veil of unheard kisses,
A respite in the symphony of love, where we, masters of the secret notes,
Bring to life a melody written by fates, on a silent score,
A quartet interlaced with threads of soul under the dome forever named

Mute Masterpiece

to capture the true
essence of what lies
behind my eyes
create a palette of 
black pastels portraying 
the shadow that follows like death
a constant visitor to my      d o o r

nobody knows the
story of my heart
an artificial anecdote of 
a l l i t e r a t i v e 

Mute Songs

Bluebells in the shady woods,
tubular throats sing the silence.
Only empty bells ring.

God's On Mute

(Author’s note: This poem is a humorous look at how the pandemic changed our technology, our relationships, and maybe even our spiritual quests.)


God’s on Mute

By Mark D. Stucky
We forgot how to talk
during the pandemic.
Glitches often bedeviled us,
and we erratically conversed.
Technology was cursed
but also godsent.

We had to learn new words
and new meanings of words
when Zoom burst

Mute Soundings

Trapped in between the lyric
and music
Wandering in a rhythm 
of lost expectation
Blaming each note still unplayed
and unwritten
The echoes distend
in a moment’s undoing 

Hearing a chorus
when no choir is present
Voices imagined
to sing my sequester 
Wandering aimless
through scores of abandon
Harmony denied me
—nightmarish and deafening

(Dreamsleep: May, 2023)

The Pilgrimage

Every six turns of the moon
A journey to the girl I take.
I leave behind my safe cocoon
Into the noise and into the fake.

The pungent smell of multicolours
Punching nose and mind alike.
I sit and pause in splendid parlours
Waiting for the joy to strike.

And strike it does, oh glory be.
Electric sparks and lowing moans.
At last she uses

The Mute Swan's Song

for clarity, you may want to read the footnotes

the mute swan's song
has an ambiance
where motion moves naught
it hovers in an existence 
where time becomes meaningless
lighting is aloof, a halo shining down
the white bed becomes a herald of angels
ready to move as the song fades
into Empyreal Heights never to return
lights dance in the mind
racing from red

Adisfaction

Loud TV ads drive me insane!
They're drilling right into my brain! 
But, hey! This is cute;
There's a button called Mute!
-Do you get it or shall I explain?

The Day Her Body Went Mute'

& death swallowed my grandmother when i was twelve.

there are some memories that hunt you while asleep
& some spill goosebumps on the fabric of your skin.

i lost count of the nights i pour tears out my eyes, 
there were days i keep my fingers steady in the family gallery.

i listened to your voice breaking through

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