Voiceless Poems

Silent Scream

Contest: Oxymoron
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud 
,Date of submission: 4th September, 2025
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My heart screams silently in pain,
Dry tears still drown my fragile soul,
My grief is small yet vast as rain,
My cheeks stay parched though hot tears roll.

My throat cries out in voiceless will,
I’m crushed by love too dark to care,
Your gentle hand was made to kill—
You broke my heart beyond repair.

The Voiceless Poet

A poet with words that never sway,
His heart was full, his mind a stream,
Yet silence cloaked his dreamlike gleam.

Oh, the voiceless poet, under the moon,
Crafting verses like a lonesome tune,
He sat by the brook with a pen in hand,
Sketching starlight on the golden sand.

The villagers spoke of his absent song,
Whispers and tales, they wandered along,
"Why does he not share the thoughts in his soul?
A tale untold, a heart that's whole."

He wandered the fields where wildflowers bloomed,
Among the sweet scents, his spirit consumed,
Each blossom a word, each petal a line,
In the still embrace of the night so divine.

One fateful eve, at the break of dawn,
He stood by the river, with courage drawn,
With a voice like thunder, he spoke to the skies,
The hidden sonnets, the world to advise.

The waters did shimmer; the echoes did dance,
The voiceless poet had seized his chance,
His words soared high on the wings of the air,
Spreading his dreams with a heart laid bare.

Now the town sings of the poet so bold,
Of stories unspoken, and visions retold,
For within every silence, a voice can ignite,
As the voiceless poet found his true light.

Echo of the voiceless soul

There is a transformation taking place 
where the human condition is now lacking 
In complete understanding we hunger 
and thirst for righteousness to take proper shape 
these words internally ring a bell 
Why are you persecuting me 
knowing the difference between wise and foolish 
between hot and cold opinionated reactions 
those responding with hate attack love 
They try to delete truth replacing it with lies 
forgiveness has infinite wisdom and mercy 
To double cross the victims courage 
injustice has buried something greater 
the voices of the innocent will never be silenced

A Kiss In The Dark

We weren't always dolls

Before the dolls - flesh was

RAW

and torn

Before we were dolls we could rip open our skin

and bare it to the world

and when a little girl peered inside

everything was new and unseen

but flesh got harder to dig into

and tear

and stretch over a canvas

and all the little girls grew impatient

for it had been a long time since they had seen something new 



so the little girls tapped on our skin with gnarled hands 

and crooned



open up

let us see



but we didn't

we couldn't



open up please

let us see

its been too long



but our skin was fully hardened then

plastic as a penny



LET US IN



they screeched



and clawed at our skin

but it didn't yield



when our pretty pink lips parted in protest

only echoes came out

and a little girl leaned in

maybe to peer through our mouths into our stomachs

maybe to taste the blankness

but when it did

it choked

its mouth filled with pounds and pounds of fluff and nothing

whispers of when skin was made

to be torn

and little girls didn't dull their fingernails down

scratching at doll flesh

Lobbying

When others speak
in hushed tones,
behind closed doors,
my voice
rises
for the voiceless.

My heart
only knows
to advocate,
to persuade,
to fight
for the cause.

Murmur of the Voiceless

In a world where rights Slumber
Justice withers like a deserted flower 
The Voiceless voices out of no voice
A silent scream of Murmur that awakens.

From the Comfort of Silence
Dreams Re-Awake in defiance of the prevailing mandate 
The old guard will soon surrender to dawn
The Voiceless voice, a force to be reckoned with.

Written by Joel Adi Yohanna

Voiceless

    Looking down through my window, at the beautiful people shuffling like charmed regals. 
My chair can get closer from the side, 
but the view isn't as accessible. 
If I could only get well, I can do those things. 
I could eat nails, be a badass from my immunity to sufferings. 
Is it because I am bad or would do bad things? 
I'd like to think I am disabled for a purpose. 
I hope that it is in lightening God's burden, 
sharing his cross, that is heavy.
I see more people now, wandering the streets. 
No one talks to them, they pretend they don't see. 
I know the routine. 
There is a vulnerability in this world that is unfair. 
The unborn, even less able with their handicap 
than me, to have a voice.

One day, the world will see the truth.
It will set them free. 
The last will be first and the first will be last. 
When we all get our permanent incorruptible bodies. There's no need for wheelchairs in heaven, 
no need to avoid like the plague, 
because there won't be any. 
Just things the way they ought to be.

Everything seems fine to me

Splattering dried soil upon my face 
Lying on that bed for a space 
Space for stars, rainbows, and the moon I plunged my eyes; the sky took me into a room
 An inch of fumes and smoke filled my lungs 
Drown in how they pierced their fangs 
Space by space, acre by acre—work as a trade 
My skin, eyes, and hair were cascading. 
Treasures like golden quicksand, 
Provider at most, even in their  command 
Midst of the haze, everything seems fine to me 
Died at most, thou poorest tree 
Let them cultivate their land and squeeze out my skin
Everything looks fine to me; I have no kin 
Let them pulp my eyes and scorch my feet 
Does not matter when I live in a threat 
The gift of their deeds is the scaly land 
Uncage the air and mutate the hand. 
Living in hell or living in a raging tie 
Raging storms, zapping lightning, polluted realm, and it looks fine to thine eyes 
Stood a strong soldier with all those mishaps
 Hiding my scar and fertilizing all my stuff 
When you are all broke and I’m here to embrace you 
Complaining is not my cup of tea

It's Just a Poem

It's just a poem 

Oft I write about heartbroken,
When I haven't gone through one.
How luxury and beautiful love could be; I scribed, 
but never been loved with the nature so spectacular. 
It's just a poem, only a poem. 

Introvert I Am, in reality. My worries; an unspoken sea,
But in papers a well known outspoken writer.
Never for once have I ever taste a kind and honey moonlight 
But I give almost all of it with my pen so sacred. 
It's just a poem, only a poem. 

Often I impersonate voiceless and poor
Their worries, sorrows I tell them to the world 
When nobody ever touched the wound so 
Suited as mine.
All, a poem- just a poem.

Birthday wishes in my ink so reside
When nobody knows my natal day.
I dodge the snow and the Muse
But they always find me. Why?
It's just a poem, only a poem. 

I drizzle the worldly mirrors,
When nobody knows what I look like.
My poetry, a motivation 
Whilst noone cares to motivate me.
It's just a poem, Only a poem.

Voiceless

Sounds all around
Not heard
Speechless
As time passes on
A crowd
Frozen not a word
Shyness around
Voiceless
Reality myth
Spoken in doubt
Words of encouragements
Life's about
Voice was heard
The crowd in a pause
Suddenly it was loud
Thunder roaring
People running
Prayers lifted high
What a time, oh my my
Silence withstands
Non-fear
Taken up gears
Voiceless.

The end results
A safe place
The voices of joy
Spoken out
Non-doubt
Voiceless.

Writer's Block

As a bird I am,
blessed with these wings
that have caressed the
winds of wisdom, and
flown me to places far,
and shown me 
the ends of the Universe -
a bird indeed, yet one
entombed in a
miserable cage, even as 
the whiff of free air
outside my inculpable prison
does fill my nostrils
through the holes in this
rotten mesh.

If those gates are shut
so be they, for they may
keep me from those worlds
which I've cavorted in,
but my eyes, kissed
by a thousand suns do see
beauty even in that which
deprives life of beauty,
and this voice, once subdued
shall speak again, crafting
another world in this
lonely abode.

Voiceless Visions

Voiceless Visions
David J Walker

I remember I replied
To the voiceless visions 

Vivid as the sunrise 
Valid as revisions

Fading as the sunsets
Recondite Intrusions 

Celebrated onsets 
Equinox conclusions

Winer is waiting as Autumn is fading
Yet again

The Voice of the Voiceless

I live in a roofless place
I do not have an expensive fur
You might not like the way
I feed myself
And I know, you neither like my presence
nor my appearance
as I'm
drowned with muddy paws
on a rainy day
juddering with runny nose
on a snowy day
and roasted with shiny dirty coat
on a sunny day
Yet under this already darkened
brightness of the sun
I'm wounded with heavy pebbles
and threatening rods
and the voices showing disgust.
I'm a stray
But I have a life too.

Voiceless

The words rumbled inside,
Lingering at the back of my throat,
Entangling my vocal chords
You have made me voiceless again.

@muzgooljar

Voice of the Voiceless

VOICE OF THE VOICELESS

hearts fire up
from within the womb
the start up
of a flame
the flicker of hope
for those wonderfully made
in the image of God
the start of no pain
drying of tears
from each chamber
can you hear   can you hear
the cheer of lives saved
no more gas
no more tearing of limbs
no more fear
at last      at last
boldly they enter the world
boys and girls see the light
their mother wins
a perfect gift
a gift from God
trust in Him    trust in Him
He will bring you through trouble
He will double your blessings

Kim Rodrigues © 2020
Let’s have perfect vision in 2020

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