Unvoiced Poems | Examples

PRIOR TO INTENT: Dawn's First Light

DAWN'S FIRST LIGHT
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
silence at daybreak.
sacred encounter with the Divine, 
a conference of heart and soul.

beyond form, beyond language
heart beats, an echo, 
a pulse vibrating through the silence.

wordless intent, 
unvoiced 
yet profoundly clear~  

a stirring, 
a flicker of grace
captures the dawn.

my soul meets God's pulse
I am led
I am unbound.  

soul ascends

Poem written for Prior to Intent Poetry Content, Unseeking Seeker, sponsor, July 30, 2025

The days pass, the weeks pass

Could we not at least exchange some crummy
anecdotes about our recent pasts
some poorly recalled bus stop or shop incidents
semi memories of there was this time when

I'll take any half digested subvocal passing thoughts
and an inappropriate and unvoiced yet sincerely held
opinion which you know is safe with me

Throw me a crumb here and I'll toss you
the whole hog utilising my award-winning
(and vigorous) masculine muscles

Instead of flinging it angry apelike
into the webvoid in the form of
incoherent cackhanded freeposts
begging for any minor engagement

Lies I never told, but never clarified

They with masks and scalpels
rewatch 
the seconds I was given without consent.
My breath      hitches
as warnings stillborn in my throat.

At this moment,
I am but
a body
opened 
for overdue answers no one asked for.

A poet’s gift lies in the voice of Truth.
No—
A poet's gift is to lie, 
constantly,
in lavender-gray syllables
threaded through with near-Truth—
The answer to unvoiced questions,
clipped out with tweezers,
a scorched coil—
my vocal cord.

I, a third-party haze—
rewatch
the moments I lived through like 
faint      breaths 
fogging an oxygen mask.

My lies will be forgiven,
when they split open my sternum,
and find Truth still beating—

They’ll know,
late Truth cuts deeper than scalpel.

unintended innuendo

Season of violet grief
A day of navy oaths
The weather a dim pink hush— 
ghosts of past, my muse.

I accidentally wrote a letter
scrawled on pale paper—
Guess, my June, what spills forth
when your blade slips through—
—not me, the envelope.

Perhaps a carol, yes—
or an oration (how proud I was!)—
or—
no, not that—
—perhaps just a thin red thread,
words sealed in failing breath.
Ruins of 
all I dared offer.

Don’t blame me, love—
and oh, don’t fear me,
for all is said
as the letter burns—
in its pyre of regret.

A tear slides down my skin, cold as silence, soft as a whisper

A tear slides down my skin, cold as silence, soft as a whisper,
And when it reaches my lips, it curls at the edges, a silent irony of sadness,
Was it pain or relief, suffering or peace, a paradox flowing from my eyes,
Wearing a mask that even I cannot decipher, an enigmatic story in disguise,
The world sees sadness, but the tear knows better, for it carries memories, not deep wounds,
It smiles in silence, for it understands that not all goodbyes are meant to hurt,
It is a dance of emotions merging, a stream of consciousness that knows no end,
Where each drop of water becomes a story, an unspoken mystery, an unvoiced thought,
And so, my tear smiles, carrying within it a universe of hidden meanings,
For not all tears are of sadness; some are of understanding and freedom.

The Man Beneath

The mask I wear, a crafted porcelain guise, 
Hides uncharted depths behind these shadowed eyes. 
 
You glimpse the surface—an actor’s polished play— 
But the soul beneath? He walks a world astray. 
 
These laughter lines, etched scripts of light and cheer, 
Conceal the wars I've waged, the silent fear. 
 
My casual stride, a dance of practiced ease, 
Cloaks ancient burdens, whispered on the breeze. 
 
The tales I weave—a tapestry ornate— 
Thread vivid joys, yet darker truths await. 
 
Each word I speak, wrapped firm in bold disguise, 
Veils restless doubts, unvoiced beneath the skies. 
 
I long to strip this mask and let you peer 
Into the fractured core, the flaws sincere. 
 
Yet fear of scorn—a binding, spectral chain— 
Keeps truths submerged in quiet, unseen rain. 
 
Perhaps one day, in courage, I’ll reveal 
The man unmasked—the wounds that time won’t heal. 
 
Expose the jagged pieces—light and night— 
And hope you’ll see a soul, both fierce and slight. 
 
Until that hour, this visage I’ll sustain, 
A nameless shadow, hiding depth and pain. 
 
But know, beyond this painted, bright façade, 
Dwells more than meets the eye—a soul unflawed.

harbor snow

I watch the harbor through the falling snow
the sky and sea form one vast, gray tableau
the sun is nothing but a weak, background glow
the scene draws me, as if hypnotically.

Five mile’s lighthouse warnings go unvoiced
its strobes not lashing out, so what’s its point
it stands majestically but disappoints
replaced electronically

A tiny lobster boat makes its landward way
towards the inlet from the wider channel bay
a powdery blizzard is underway
which melts into the mirror sea.

Ospreys still hunt round the lobsterman's pride
snowflakes stain them as they soar and glide
other seabirds huddle side by side
shivering and crowing lividly.

Through the narrows the lonely boat steams
past icy Luddington Rock and East Breakwater's breech
its berths and moorings, within minutes reach
and sadly, it’s time for me to leave.
.
.
Songs for this:
Far Far Away (Charles Tone Mix) [feat. Brenda Boykin] by Tape Five
Hypnosis Theme (feat. Marina Quaisse) by Wax Tailor

Acting Coach

The greatest teacher I have ever known
never worked in a classroom.
He was an actor and radio announcer of some renown.
A man of many talents, I'd assume.

He directed me once when I was acting in a play,
and he'd let me know - right away! -
if he didn't like the way I'd say
a certain line (sometimes to my dismay!)

He taught me the value of silence and being still.
Economy of movement was an important skill
that I needed to learn
and although he was not shrill in his criticism
he could be very stern,
never the kind to use witticism
to make a point.
Indeed, his best instructions were often unvoiced.

My performance in that comic play
turned out quite successfully,
and to this very day
it is still a fond memory.

In all my years in theatre
he gave to me the greatest education.
Eventually, I'd realize that under
his tutelage I learned much about dedication
to the craft of acting, 
reacting and interacting.
I learned that it's all about communication,
and though he is long gone, 
I remember him fondly, with great appreciation.

Thank you, Denys.

Zen mode

slow, slower and slower we be
gentle, gentler and gentler yet
lest scars of unvoiced anguish
create ripples in the vast void

abandoned lover

sleep feels like an abandoned lover;
  heart weeps like a wilted flower..
wings of the sun, soaked with sapphire dust,
   rise and sparkle; like sea salt in the air,
twilight cascades upon my skin~
   wearing your perfumed memories,
I long to see your silken silhouette, 
swirling behind the thick veil of shimmering silence, 
but I do not know the lyrics,
to sing these thoughts in spellbinding melodies,
    so like always, I sit and scribble,
your name in rosy refrains and messy metaphors,
    too vague for those almond eyes..

perhaps, citrine stars would transcribe these emotions,
for I’ve long been writing in seclusion, 
   of the lotus moon in your midnight skies, 
   of the constellations of butterflies…

  Yet, I am the unvoiced verse, 
    nestled within the waltzing lines 
of timeless nostalgia~woven from flawless feathers…

Musical Souls

Words
neat
quiet
mutinous
never go silent.
Words overflow the mind and turn 
insentient paper into realms of melodies.
Black and white paper become pianos of unvoiced dreams that summon musical souls.

Silent Love Notes

Within soil's silent phrases
love would love to find flesh
hearing what Earth repeated
timelessly amused again
with pregnant pauses

You know how touching feels
yet can't articulate sacred Mother's mantra
resonating octaves
of radiantly colored energy
empowering pitch
scale
shape

Sighted sounds
resounding sacred calculations,
masculine 1-sums
sniffing feminist 0-souls
with erect respect

Sacred views
unvoiced full spectral choice
profound
elegant
exquisite
intimately intricate
imaginations

Wise as ancient integrity
absorbs what hypocrisy divides
from Earth's well-timed warming powers
to inhale Sun's silent,
yet full sighted, light
rediscovering sounds
for soulful silenced
power

In between
silent phases
phrases
of Earth's moon
and tidal seas
and seasons
passion needs to feel us
deeply listening

Widely learning 
what and why and when
Earth repeats Her fractal
timeless fractures
fusing sensory beats

Repeating 
musing wisdom circles,
dancing spirals
fusing echoing silence
musing one timeless rest 
not not noted
pregnantly again.

Innocence

a question was raised
but pure heart unfazed
forever tranquil 
had relinquished will
and so the response
held in bliss beat sconce 
was benign and kind
that souls be aligned
by feeling heartbeats
of unvoiced love bleats
making them soul’s own
and with love so hone
that boundaries blur
head and heart concur 
aboard God’s bliss boat
in joyous free float
wherein the question
ego did mention
now takes a backseat
heeding pure love’s tweet

How Still Is Our Stillness

inseparable from existence
presence yet still in the void
inhales and exhales mindfully
radiating its lustre unalloyed

the universe responds to us
for intent simmers in inaction
unvoiced emotes of our heart 
causation granting life traction

there then never is cessation
even in the transcendent state
it is why we are here immanent 
creative impulses never abate

Rain Caress

Today is a drizzle day, 
The softest showers fall, 
A rain caress from the grey
clouds above does enthrall ~
Drench my heart, o gentle spray! 

A brush of love from on high, 
A sprinkling of raindrops, 
This light mizzle makes me sigh, 
as this trickle ne'er stops ~
Saturate my soul, dear sky! 

A tender stroke of warmth moist
dribbles down with levin*, 
Cool rains, my spirit they hoist, 
Blissful beads on my skin ~
Immerse me in joy unvoiced! 


*levin - lightning

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