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Best Poems Written by Rowena Velasco

Below are the all-time best Rowena Velasco poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Unspoken Love

Your gaze speaks softly—
I love you without a sound,
heartbeats seal the vow.

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A Long Life Goodnight

My chest holds echoes none can hear,
A hush of thoughts that won’t appear.
What once was warm, now drifts like mist,
A weight unseen, too dense to lift.

Each fracture blooms a quieter scar,
Where bitter seeds still bloom afar.
No shore, no flame, no sense of tide—
Just vacant halls I roam inside.

By day I wear a borrowed face,
By night I vanish into space.
Thorns have grown where roses laid,
And joy, like wind, has slipped away.

I feel the pull to slip below,
To whisper what I’ll never show.
My voice is dust, it meets no ear—
A silent scream no one can hear.

You shimmer still within my dusk,
A faded gleam in memories’ husk.
I dream we speak as once we did—
Before the cold began to bid.

No bitterness could take your place,
You linger deep, a shadow’s grace.
But where you stood, now hollow lies—
A soul grown thin beneath the skies.

One truth remains, untouched by time:
A trace of you, forever mine.
A tether neither blade nor night
Could sever from this ghostly light.

Am I undone, or just concealed?
A mask of calm, a truth unsealed.
Not hate, nor wrath, I seek to wield—
Just peace in ground that’s never healed.

The tales of joy and sorrow, pain and grace,
Are etched within the lines upon the face.
The laughter lingering in a quiet space,
The love that time can never displace.

Now rest descends like stars in velvet skies,
A peaceful calm that soothes the weary mind.
The soul prepares to lift and softly rise,
Leaving the weight of years behind.

A long life’s journey finds its final light—
A tender, tranquil, everlasting night.

Details | Rowena Velasco Poem

A Good Sense Of Humour Blunts The Sharp Blades Of Reality

When life threw me a curveball,
I stumbled—then chuckled mid-fall.
Lumped knees, not pride, I wore like bent,
because sneering is something I've seen.

In chemo rooms and vestibules,
I frenzied dry jokes on aseptic walls.
Doctors simpered, nurses would beam—
a punch-line where the fear had been.

When agony thumped hard and sleep grew thin,
I let the silly light writhe in.
A meme, a whirl , a silly song—
made aching days feel less so long.

No, humour incurable or patch,
But it's the ally, not made to part.
It doesn't silence, hurt or truth,
but let me smirk with my aching tooth.

So here's my laugh, though life gushes beneath,
it's how I rise, not how I lament!

Details | Rowena Velasco Poem

Silence Is Beautiful

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder Poetry Contest //Sponsored by: Crystol Woods
( 1st Place )

Written: August 07, 2025


They say stillness is absence, an empty space between worth noting,
but I have heard its melodies in the pre-dawn chapel where stillness reigned
and still the walls exhaled calm.

I have found stillness and not loneliness---
but in two hands clutching without speaking,
the heart knowing inside out
language would only raze.

Silence is like sunlight before it shines,
the tranquility after I sleep and
the reluctance before "I forgive you",
It grips what chaos cannot express--admiration, agony, dread.

Even when grieving and when at a loss for words,
calmness is at hand and says it all.
So let the world fill with echoes.
With clamor and vivid proclamations.

I will still turn up beauty.
In the lull between storms,
In the hush between instinct and doubt
In the sacred calmness, that hark,
Not to respond, but to understand.

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Echoes of Autumn

Fading gentle touch,
Echoes drift like autumn leaves—
Sweetness slips away.

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A Seat Taken, A Spirit Kept

O classroom once alive with gentle voices,
Where morning greetings bloomed so bright and clear,
I leave you now—stripped of certain choices,
Unheard, unseen, dismissed through quiet fear.

The silence came—a shadow down the hall,
Erasing names without a single word.
No answer rose to break the rising wall,
No hand reached out, no empathy was stirred.

The leader’s crown slipped heavy from her brow,
Her heart shut tight, her words grew sharp and thin.
She silenced me—no reason, no end vow—
As though I never truly had been in.

The seats were shifted, voices reassigned,
My name erased like chalk at end of day.
Yet still I held the children in my mind—
Their laughter lighting up my fading way.

No grace was shown in hardship or in strain,
No hand extended in my time of need.
Just quiet exile and unspoken pain,
A glowing ember starved of light to feed.

And still within this grief, a truth I find:
Though bruised, my dignity does not depart.
Though shadows press, they cannot touch the mind
Or dim the quiet flame that burns in heart.

Farewell, sweet classroom—may your walls now hear
The echoes of respect, the sound of care.
And may those who still lead one day draw near
To build with love—a space just, kind, and fair.

Details | Rowena Velasco Poem

Shifting Frames

The glass once lucid
now deflects glow differently.

A chuckle clenched in the wind,
blanching and flaming.
Where were we?

Footprints echo, retreat, advance
sagging floor, missing nails.

Not long enough--
like a wheeze folding in and out,
a beam of light held in a still moment.

Sagging floor, nails missing,
steps forth, then retreat.
Where were we,
blanching and flaming,
a chuckle loosed in the wind—

now the glass, no longer lucid,
deflects the glow differently.

Details | Rowena Velasco Poem

When Leadership Forgot Her Name

Leadership once stood so tall,
But lost her spine along the hall.
No knocks, no words, just silent calls—
She wiped away the names on walls.

Silence sits—a secret scribe,
Whispers soft, commands prescribe.
No voice to speak, no hand to shake,
Just shadows where the echoes break.

Respect once tried to find her place,
But Ego barred her from the space.
He strode in heels, so loud and proud,
Drowning out the quiet crowd.

Understanding wept unseen,
Waiting in the in-between.
Communication packed her bags,
Left behind the silent flags.

Compassion came at noon’s faint bell,
Mistaken for a fragile shell.
Sent back to darkened shade,
Where hopes and dreams begin to fade.

Exhaustion sat beside my side,
While Hope refused to step aside.
In children’s laughs and bright clear eyes,
Joy danced beneath the heavy skies.

Not titles mark the soul’s own song,
But truths that guide us all along.
Resignation comes with grace,
A calm hand placed upon my face.

“Your health is yours,” she softly said,
Beyond the words that go unsaid.
Though this place forgot my name,
I walk away without the blame.

And there—where whispered shadows fall—
Begins the slow return of all.

Details | Rowena Velasco Poem

Echoes of Liminal Light

they slither down the long halls
coiling thoughts like vine-sharp calls
calm defies
walls lean in with breathing cracks
truth waits, but never walks back
you flicker—don’t ask why
their whispers rise like flood and tide
but roots hold beneath the lie
you break—and light slips quietly by

Details | Rowena Velasco Poem

The Courage to Write Again

The ink returns—not to defend,
nor chase the ghosts I used to fend.
Not to explain the aching past,
but breathe through wounds that couldn’t last.

It does not rise with pointed proof,
nor beg for silence turned to truth.
It flows because the heart now dares
to speak in lines what once hid there.

Where words once cost too much to say,
a softer voice now finds its way.
No longer chained by fear or flame—
the ink returns, and I remain.

Each letter born from quiet grace,
a tender reclaiming of space.
No longer lost in fear’s dark night,
but glowing now with steady light.

The pages hold what heart has learned—
a story told, a life returned.
In every stroke, a soul set free,
the courage found inside of me.