Metaphor Silence Poems

SPHINX STONE 

I am Sphinx Stone
Sun stationed statue
silent sculptured synoptic 
not marble or granite 
nor black tourmaline or
crystal sapphire quartz
vortex for Void actualising 
sacred amber...

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Your whispered existence paints hues unseen - twilight shadows; your hands bow, yielding....

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In the webbed corners of my brain 
There blooms a sinister flower 
Its petals dripping with venom 
 And thick roots entwined with despair 

Begins...

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For few days between the shaking and shattering of my consciousness, 
The soft arms of Silence 
Wrap around my aching torso 
And pretend to soothe...

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The titular template 
of lyrical loneliness,
serenading spaced out 
the upbeat ethereal 
mystique melody
of dreams cadenced 
with rhythmic quietude,
invigorated by
the rhapsody of
the million idyllic steps 
I...

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In your silence I see colours,
speech crumbling like flaking paint, dried; truth dripping from lips, black spittle on a brush.
In the silence I inhale the...

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you know 
it's bad when your 
guardian angel runs

I often wonder
how quiet is it
right before the end

that brief pause
just before
extinction

the universe takes
a double-take
in disbelief, in...

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silent trees are spoken quietly 
as they walk above ground
 leaves are covering filtering the air
 that I breathe
 maybe all they evolve branches
 massage...

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A room's whites cry loud
Still sound fills it with endless echo
No thought, no audible breath, no
Perspective
This view too is
Outside perceivable depth
Only a snowy canvas
Full of...

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I heard the sound of the sea 
echoing like a distant hymn.
It encompassed my soul
like a heavenly embrace.
It set me free like a lucid breeze.
It...

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I, the many
a harlot's realm, betrothed
to the light, each door a seed

yet, eyes 
ever glossed in overtones
of harmonic gaze 
deep within her strings

and enter anew
in...

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Stagnated sin stared straight out to sea
Seeking a scape subdued of such scintillation 
Stars she said should not share the same air

Superstitions shaped in slumber...

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why do we 
still assume that whispered diamond dialects
delicate and sheer
aren't scripted with blades 
that curdle blood-stained musings
as summer symphonies scorch ebony skin
tattooed with dark...

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Oh, let us write of gentler things
Still wondering why “the caged bird sings”*
Or rise upon a thermal shaft
Of feathers drawn upon first draft
Or watch the...

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An isolated silhouette grows
amongst cowering greens as
an aimless impression yonder
trace mimicking lifeless postures. 

Outlines vanish from the capture
as that raises a different outcome,
yet the instinctive...

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