Short Muted Poems
Short Muted Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Muted by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Muted by length and keyword.
I tapped the poetry bin
Naught but an empty echo
The stillness of a blank wall
Decorated by a frozen Gecko
John G. Lawless
©7/28/2022
Old age
Muted rage
Broke hips
Bitter lips
Happy thoughts
Are Fought
Sunny Days
Turn away
Why lie
Will die
Nursing home
Swallows groan
Like a jazz tune holding its own slow note
Quietly falls
Muted steps
along
path
written 9-21-2019
Make It Five Poetry Contest 3rd place
THE MUTED FALL
I lead against the walls of injustice
I've fallen
As I place my ear on the wall, I hear you calling
What shall a lame deaf mute do
For he too has fallen
Speak stronger and louder with outrage assert
Right, Left or inane, it keeps us alert
Our First Amendment rights
Can be shorn overnight
When the Man shouts “quiet and you won’t get hurt!”
Far away from his home,
trapped and silenced by fear.
Just a muted dove far away.
And someone just now speaks of the sweet dove,
That ancient symbol of peace,
so tormented that it is silenced.
In the poverty of sound
hides a final goodbye
Mortgaging the silence
with debt to decry
A tenancy of sorrow
with melody banned
An orchestra homeless
—foreclosure at hand
(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)
Bruised flesh defined by a lifted hand
Weakened by words that piece the heart
Lost in a forsaken land
Drifting souls torn apart
Shattered at the core
Breathed one last breath
What is more?
Silent
Death
She had been stalked
Dark thoughts draped in silence
Ranting
Gnawing
Suckling
At the breast of doubt
Whimpering
In the shadowed suffering
Of idled indecision
Held hostage
By the blank page
John G. Lawless
©6/23/2023
What if our dogs could talk aloud?
What do you suppose they'd speak about?
Rabbits, birds, chasing things?
What if they thought to tell our tales?
Stories hidden, behind the veil.
Secrets, scandals, Everything!
TLH © 06-12-2012
before the night comes
sun burns the landscape melting
keeps me so quiet
for my ears are now solid
my muted voices rises now
whispers as the moon does dawns
8/7/19
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©
To recite it in a Poem,
or sing it loud and strong
Their union an espousal,
one by measure, one by song
Division cast adrift,
muted sirens fold their wings
This moment reinvented
—words and melody one thing
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
To recite it in a Poem,
or sing it loud and strong
Their union an espousal,
one by measure, one by song
Division casts adrift,
as muted sirens fold their wings
This moment reinvented,
—words and melody one thing
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)
I’m plagued with muted memories
that at their leisure will just wail;
It could be the song on the breeze,
I’m plagued with muted memories;
Meals disrupted by fallacies;
My peace they decide to impale;
I’m plagued with muted memories,
that at their leisure will just wail.
Unspoken words are deafening and I am blind
Wading through your thoughts I am lost
Like a cresting wave I know we are close
Will we reach our island of thoughtful chatter?
Where weeks seem like minutes and we are lost in each other
Or will it be where minutes seem like weeks and we are simply
LOST
MUTED TONES
numerous
paridisal
elongated
eurhythmic
hierarchical
backgrounds
radiance
glimpsed
in
esoteric
embodiments
aspiring
& initiated
to
stylise
intimate
illusions
of
fellowship
orientation
generic
revivals
ironic
ambitious
elements
Sunlight painted glossy ribbons
in warm ochre and muted sage
ripplings in soft pastel hues
across the surface of a tranquil lake
Between cane reeds they swam
silken threads on the breakfast table
of a lone Indigo heron
standing with feathers and plume
feeding at the break of day
And so
The words lay idle
Mumbling
“Not me! Not me!”
For we could be
The catalyst for
Verse,
Or worse.
Let us be
But words
Un-gathered logs
Afraid of fire
Soundless stones
Rolling
In sunrise surf
A wind
Without purpose
A rooster
Tapping the farmer
On the shoulder
Whispering “psst”
A muted moon
Fading silently
Into a day
Without
Poetry
I muted my Heart.
To shut off my Brain.
I did it all.
To numb the Pain.
Why Love, when it Hurts.
Why Feel, when it Burns.
My Soul Bleeds.
My Stomach Churns.
My Blood runs Cold.
My Breath Dies.
Why should I Grow Old?
My Time moves Slow.
Why won't it Hurry.
The Lights Fade.
My Vision is Blurry.
Why Sleep?
It Never Ends.
I Awake.
To Die Again.
I watched as the panorama
found harmony
the sky slipped into the
white lipped mouth
of mountains
supplication floated
blue turned mute,
mixed with Grey’s
of twilight,
her fingers
lightly took one last
grasp on Azimuths cowl,
then disappeared
for the half turn
in a depth of silence
the first movement
of night,
was to regain
her stolen breath
of awe
NON MUTED VOICE SINGS PRAISES TO THE LORD
"Je suis le seul à chanter des louanges à mon Seigneur, une voix non-muette..."
" I alone sing praises of my Lord, voice non-muted I'm whole..."
Form: CAESURA
4/12/18
written English & French verse by James Edward Lee Sr.(in the form of Caesura)
Form:
It feels like my voice gets muted
at times, in the midst of my grief
I concentrate on moving forward
and forget to speak up for myself
and my words pause, so
my unique voice is silent, not echoing
out into the world with my poetry, kindness,
and personality quirks
I feel muted and dull and unable to
speak out, so what good am I doing in
the world that only listens to shouting
and loud voices?
I recanted ever knowing Love's quotient,
Over me had Cupid never distilled Love's potion,
My staid lips never bantered Love's discourse,
While stoic mindset made terms of endearment no recourse.
My posture belied that of a court jester,
And sensory images could not my emotions' sequester.
Desire, passion's impulse, became a muted feeling;
And Hope, residing in Despair's harbor, offered little healing.
Form:
A ripple, then a bubble,
sparkling in the light,
swaying to the sound;
I was there, I was told,
blinking in the light,
frightened by the sound;
I am here, I can tell,
guided by the light,
eased by the sound;
I'll be there, no need to tell,
blinded by the light,
stunned by the sound;
And in the unlit here
and the muted now,
I surely won't be around.
Naked pure newborn Eden, unashamed
Soles step intrepid on spongy moss
Quadrant of tropical dapple claimed
Fruits in Winterless heart's emboss
Limbs mingle, indulged by marquee manuevres
Ponder labyrinth piths without hindrance
Sultry poetry compiled among canopy soothing
Canoe traverses untold as fingerprints
22nd April
To Kingsley