Written: September 22, 2026 for a contest sponsored by: Line Gauthier
**********
Crimson grief coils, a choir sneaks at night,
I’ll stand at your side, unhurried, till first light.
Should stories dissolve as twilight looms,
I hold each word; silence cannot exhume.
Where the twisting road may veer,
I will endure tenaciously, I swear.
Silence
waiting, listening
gathering, noticing, wondering
memory, image, metaphor, language
shaping, weaving, illuminating
luminous, enduring
Poem
It begins long before the pen touches the page,
in the quiet habit of noticing what others miss:
the amber morning streaming
through slatted blinds,
the heron lifting up from golden water.
To live this way is not to speak in rhyme,
But to breathe, to watch,
To listen for the rhythm.
It is the tea kettle whistling its low hymn,
Flour dusted across the counter,
The deliberate pace of walking slow enough
To hear what silence carries when it leaves.
You learn that nothing is too small to keep:
A river rock worn smooth by tide,
The wild fire of an evening sky,
The grief you thought would crush you into dirt.
Writing is only the light you bring back.
The poem itself was the breathing,
The wide eyes, the steady pulse,
The courage to face the grain of living
And find in it
A reason to begin again.
As my body and soul take a rest,
Tired from work need to lie down is the best,
Though my room is little, it's my place of refuge,
Ready to plunge into deep slumber.
Many hardship I may face everyday,
At the end of the day my safe haven is waiting,
As peaceful as a sea,
This is where I belong, my shelter.
Problems that I may faced day by day,
The silence of the room is my sanctuary,
Focussing on how to solve right away,
So that my heart is free from being weary.
knowing grasped but not assimilated
sees myriad doubts rise unabated
a blush which we hush by thought cessation
returning back to bliss-meditation
DEAR SILENCE,
At day's end
This side of dead
Silence is
My only friend
My room, alone
Book and pen
“Dear Silence,
.....................
... Me, again.”
Words
They've thrown
Today, the same
Will tomorrow
As yesterday
Their shadows stain
The halls
The streets
Shout my name
So others see
I'm not the same
Will never be
I'll never change
What I believe
A word for those
Can't comprehend
My hair, my clothes
The skin I'm in
“Dear Silence,
.....................
... Me, again.”
I am a true rebel- for I question
the words of my catholic rigid rules.
And will rise up to claim my self-expression,
keeping the parts that are like precious jewels.
Spiritual freedom is my obsession . . .
I do not want to be like the mindless ghouls.
Forces of desiring things creates aversion,
and pushing these things away creates diversion.
So, I let go of all useless craving
and let go of the resistance and fears.
Stop the beliefs like old etched engraving,
I hang from stars that seem a chandelier.
Don't obey all the catholic ravings,
but hold what I consider to be dear.
Through meditation my focus is unbroken,
and I can hear my spiritual voice spoken.
I turn away from any cult-like faith
throwing away all the rigid mindset.
Discard all the bible verses that saith,
to find my inner song- I press reset.
I will seek a journey to interfaith,
and hum to my internal clarinet.
I am placing all those old teachings on a shelf,
to begin an amazing journey to myself.
leaf
wind
motion
stirs silence
until stillness opens
something unsaid drifts through the air
In a world of billions, full of rebellion,
But I'm ready to be the villain
Of your story, All for your glory.
Oh, that you were a kind of saint —
One that'd make even the devil faint.
So let me be the one to blame,
I'll gladly wear the villain's name.
we’re drenched with bliss so there’s nothing to seek ~
mind is silent so that bliss beats may speak
I was never worth for living on this earth,
I was just a dust particle made to be thrown in the dirt.
I wonder why God would have made such an ugly face and broken Soul,
He must have thought, "Oh, that's the person everyone should ignore".
I genuinely don't know if I'll be alive till I'm 20,
Even if I am my soul would be already empty.
I Really wish I could die soon,I don't want to be a burden on anyone on this earth.
I never really got anyone who can love me,
It felt like an act everyone had to show me .
I hope i die with my thoughts of being happy for once in my lifetime, hoping they contain his little smile.
I don't want anything, I'm just trying to survive.
I live for the days,hoping I'll see his damn smile.
His voice is no longer in my ears, his face is like fading shadow haunting my memories.
Unfortunately I will forget his soul.
I will go back to my younger self again try to be happy in my empty void hole.
abiding in silence without effort
wherein movement of our thoughts is rested
is the magic causing bliss beats to spurt
by power within us by God vested
I never told you what I felt
I kept it all to myself
Darkness filling up my soul
Emotions spun out of control
Evil thoughts circled my brain
My heart feeling so much pain
There was so much going wrong
Happening for way to long
Day by day it just got worse
My silence was like a curse
That would leave me so unsteady
Because I was never ready
To share what was deep inside
Each night I secretly cried
Because words I needed to say
To you would just slip away
Every time I tried to seek
The courage I'd become weak
Now I sit here with one thought
Why I never really fought
The angered demons way down deep
Just one whisper or a peep
From my lips right to your ears
Might have taken all my fears
Away -- but I was not that smart
Now its too late I broke the heart
Of a friend I've known forever
Who stood by me through stormy weather
But this raincloud that follows me
Left both of us in misery
gold leaves linger low,
purple drifting from the branch~
soft warmth in the air.
the tree keeps its quiet grace,
letting stillness paint the day.
Spare me some love, Fidelis—
the way a beggar spares a coin
from the hand of a saint,
or rain spares one roof
while drowning the village.
Give me what you have left
after you have fed the wolves,
after your heart has paid its taxes
to every stranger
who called it home.
I do not ask for the moon.
It has disappointed me enough—
always hanging above the ruins
like a witness too beautiful
to testify.
Give me a cup of your silence.
I have learned to drink from empty things.
I have kissed the rim of absence
until my lips forgot
what warmth was supposed to mean.
Spare me some love, Fidelis—
not all of it.
Only what remains
when the house is quiet,
and the last door closes.
Silence Categories
Definition | What is Silence in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.