Voices Poems - Poems about Voices

I wear a thimble to protect me from blows I can't see the enemy, But I got to fight anyway I suppose. My thimble's a bit battered Worn down by old wounds I might need to get a new one Till then this will do. My kingdom depends on me I guess so, Haven't heard from them in many moons. I fight, waving about a...

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Be a still shadow when the void is smeared onto concrete walls. The void— a deafening drone— devours shadows that dare speak. It closes in, fast— in my head it whispers: Join us. You are hollowed enough to blend in without fault. I sit still— because I was told: If I move—If I shiver— I become the smeared void....

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Dare I share my intrusive thoughts Once suicidal in a mood so dark I actually tried to stop my heart Using vitamins to sin with life to part It was a low that got so deep Manic tide had overcome me Was hearing voices in trilogies Mad as I was bipolar buried I recall walking outside Collapsed in the sunshine Barely recall ambulance ride Feeling lost...

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These voices, a cacophony of din, ring in my head, but most of them aren't mine. Somehow, they found their way under my skin. Most are not nice, anything but benign, masquerading as my true voice within. Their suggestions, it's better to decline. They tell me I must do all kinds of stuff, because, otherwise, I'm not good...

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I can’t remember who I was, before voices other than mine stepped in. I think I wanted to be a movie director, a script I read in kindergarten— a line or two still hums when I dream. I think I wanted to be a fashion designer, my first sketches— heels like daggers, dresses stitched with thunder. I think I wanted to be a writer,...

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I was sitting near the shore, listening to the waves. The blue and the night sky spoke to me like never before. Their distant voices became dull— something inside me twirled. The sound of the waves was just like the voices, long forgotten. Sand...

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I opened my mouth to let them speak They told us their story of black fatigue I let their words seep through me Pen to paper their stories complete The words flowing My need for purpose growing The words I'm seeing We're full of meaning The stories the words told I let them unfold They had me in a chokehold I knew they should be known...

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They told us silence was golden but we learned it was a cage. Now, the locks are rusted open and we are stepping on the stage. No more whispers in the margins no more shrinking to fit the room. We speak in every shade and story our words like seeds that bloom. We are not echoes of one another we are a rising storm,...

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water his undertow where seagulls still cry for his touch on the stiffening mast sails gone sea swept — his shipwreck staging her oars whispers in the water she screams...

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When there's trouble in my mind. I say, "God please help me at this time!" He knows everything we all go through. Because He created them, me and you! He knows before we do it, we'll be mad. Knows just how to comfort us when we're sad. When my thoughts take over, or I'm ill. I ask Him to help me, because...

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Behind, Ahead, To Bring Our Move! Raise The Score, Fields, Voices, ...

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I thought I heard your voice last night A sweet familiar sound No other human in my sight Not a single soul around Up to the window moseyed I Towards where the voice was heard I called out loud while drawing nigh, "Is that you, my Bluebird?" Just then a slumbering breeze awoke And rustled through the bough So quietly to me it spoke More...

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What’s the reason to die, the wise know In a thousand voices they confide to me Their valued opinions, but I’m too slow To capture the truth they can clearly see One dies, two are born, and it doesn't matter Who will they become, one may do The same thing, another may do something better Until the third comes to change the...

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I met a homeless man whose name I don't recall, but he had what sounds like A million dollar voice. I met Cal who said he was an electrician which is not a career requiring great voice quality; But he had a million dollar voice. Tim used to own a swimming pool business. He was homeless when I met him. But he had...

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She walked with dreams in her gentle eyes, A future lit beneath morning skies. But shadows crept where light should stay, And stole her breath, her hopes, away. Sawera’s name, now etched in pain, A flower drowned beneath the rain. Not by fate, not by some twist, But by hands that evil kissed. What justice lies in silence kept? While mothers grieve, and sisters...

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