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anna 11h
i am loud
yes, i am very loud
i have been told by many people
to shut up
to stop talking
to quit being so. damn. loud.
it's who i am
i've always been loud.
maybe it's because i was the youngest child
and it was difficult for my voice to be heard if i didn't raise it,
or maybe because in a group of friends
my story was never listened to,
instead it was talked over
so maybe i'm loud
but i'd rather be loud
than never be heard
a.m.
My voice cries out from forced silence,
Thunderous volume in my ears,
Words preparing to do violence
Against my fear to face my fears.

The times I spoke I have been heard,
But poetry’s not for today.
The world needs action, not a word,
Though I’d prefer to run away.

I wish my writing would suffice
So that I never have to be.
But still, I make this sacrifice
Real life needs the real me.

O silent voice, speak through my pen!
A spirit to articulate!
You will be heard, not if but when!
O voice, it’s you I cultivate!
Instagram @insightshurt
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_

eccentric in their special ways
they prefer the path unclear
the trail unmarked

fond of stumbling in
fumbling through
finding the way that's theirs

engaged by the obtuse
the uneven
the asymmetric
they see grace and form
in brilliant imbalance

seduced by the clue
drawn to the fog
they seek the wonder
it withholds

where they long to go
is always 'round the bend
over the hill
behind the closed door

their ears prick
to the distant sound
that arises
just beyond clarity

to all these things
their souls are pulled

because

down the trail
in the mist
around the curve
over the crest
shut away
.
comes the clarion call

_


rob kistner © 2018
Contemplation on the poet's wonderfully special traits.
misha 2d
you
silently
call for me
in the night
and i come
running back in
your arms,
others might say
that i've lost my screws
and that i've got no clue
but i know that
there's nothing better
than loving you,

and i know you feel
this too,
our connection so wild
so free and so powerful,
it makes you sway
i heard last season that
the fall took you away,
you always loved autumn
the best.

and i can't help but imagine
how you would look
if you were still green
as you can be,
but slowly you changed
shade and went orange
but still lovely
because you were the
colors of the autumn sky;
full of shades, yellow,
orange and red.
almost made me wish
that i could change with
you.

it was early in the morning
everyone else was probably
dead asleep,
but i came to you
as i heard your calls
and silently watched
as you turned brown,
the color of lost
and now my
color of love.

now as i paint the canvas
i don't use the green
of your eyes
but i use the brown
of my last sight of you,
the brown of your voice,
the brown of your cries
and the brown of your soul.
It wasn't the entrancing glory
Of infinity stretched across our small stretch
Of the night sky
That stumped me.
It wasn't the thoughts racing as fast as my heartbeat,
Or the intoxicating scent of you on the wind,
Or the calming essence of your soul
Washing over,
And extinguishing the manic fires
That plague, burn, and warp my mind to it's core
That stopped me in my tracks
And made me re-collect myself as life passed.
It was the harmonic melody
Of your voice
Against the moon,
And the way your words
Danced with the stars.

The voice of the night.
she sounds pretty
Deemz 6d
Your silence is the only part of you that still speaks to me,
and when I can't hear your voice anymore,
the fog reveals the distances you aren't willing to travel,
what's the point of reaching out to someone who doesn't want to be reached?
nah
i want to taste your voice

please

sing in my mouth.
Why is it,
That whenever I think of you,
I feel you're thinking of me too?

Why is it,
That when I feel like falling,
You catch me before I can?

Why is it,
That when you look me in the eyes,
I can tell that you're holding back?

Why is it,
That when your voice begins to rise,
My heart just melts instead of matching it?

Why is it,
That when I am around you,
I get butterflies that only I can feel?

Why is it,
That when your voice is spoken aloud,
No one bothers to listen to it?

Why is it,
That you haven't found me yet?
Am I just as lost as you in love's maze?

Why is it,
That I haven't taken one more step,
Walking throughout the path you've shown me?
Just a quick poem I did when thinking about that special someone...
RedD Sep 8
My body at rest
My mind at peace
I hear the bell
That familiar tone

You reach out from afar
My senses quicken
I reach too
Stretch out my hand

To hold you close
I listen to your voice
A tone so familiar
My heart, it melts again

Just like before

And like it always will
I will never tire of hearing your voice S ❤️
Lee Bridge Sep 8
How powerful is your voice
When I listen to you
Everything else goes silent
absorbed by every word,
I listen as my ship sinks in sea
I listen
while I run out of breath
Trying not to write too dramatic but right now I feel good about this one.
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