"deafeningly" poems
Remember that stretch in the crack of dawn
Late we both were so I thought I had companion
I ran fast towards you and deafeningly called on
But you walked past me in the hallway and waved a yawn
Remember those mornings in our classroom
When there was no other feels than gloom
You’d suddenly crack a joke and keep us abloom
You’d give us a good laugh and avert the doom
Remember the countless lunch times we shared
You’d go to the canteen and I’d have mine prepared
Then you’d come to me and ask for candy I had spared
I’d hand you one or maybe two as if I was compelled
Remember the sunlit afternoons, humid and hot
Obliged to take a nap but there’s no problem on that
When I couldn’t, I’d look out the window overlooking a vacant lot
And some random times I’d find myself glancing at your spot
Remember the twilight spent at some place
You came to me and all of a sudden broke into my own space
I went forth to desist looking at your adorable face
But you went after me and caught me in a chase
Remember that night when everything was easy
We talked for hours and not cared about the others, really
You leaned closer and made me breathe barely
You and me were finally we and I couldn’t help but be happy
Remember some other nights when we had it rough
When we felt like giving up and everything just wasn’t enough
But we unceasingly came out tough
We swept every worry and hurdle in our path with a laugh
Remember that other night in the busy city
Under the beautiful night sky in the hour so early
You walked beside me and held my hand tightly
It was cold and windy but with you I felt summery
There was also a night I can remember precisely
Your eyes were locked on mine deeply
I repeatedly swore I’d hold you forever dearly
And you whispered, “Don’t worry, sweetie, till doomsday you got me.”
But as much as I would like the night to never end
The sun didn’t want the moon, stars and serene darkness to extend
It rose above quickly and it hurt so bad to see it transcend
Hence I woke up that morning being just your old friend.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
Strange Skeleton Knight
Why do you fight?
You're so fragile
Yet you take on my burdens without being asked
Why must you be so eager to die on my behalf?
Don't you deserve to live too?
Mr Skeleton Knight
Why don’t you cry?
You never make a sound
Yet your sadness echoes deafeningly
Do your bones not feel cold out in the dark?
Does not being able to shed tears make you unable to release your sadness?
Can I cry on your behalf?
Sir Skeleton Knight
What did you do with your heart?
Did you tear it out to stop yourself from feeling?
Did you give it away along with the rest of yourself?
Even someone without flesh and organs shouldn't look so empty inside
Why can't you get your heart back?
Can I give you mine instead?
Noble Skeleton Knight
Do you like the grave I've dug you?
I'm glad that you haven't buried yourself yet
But I'm sure you don't feel the same way
Then why don’t you let your soul rest?
Wouldn't the warm dirt hug you more than anyone else has?
I don’t think I can help you anymore.
Beloved Skeleton Knight
I’ve killed myself
I hope you don't think that your existence was a tragedy
Though in the end I never managed to make you feel alive even once
I’ve told them to bury me next to your grave
Promise me that you'll stay at my side
Atleast now we can be cold and empty together.
Why do you still look so sad?
Apr 8, 2021
Apr 8, 2021 at 12:30 AM UTC
he's terrified of her voice
that whips his eardrums like kashmir switches
and tickles his diaphragm until he convulses
in nervous laughter inside his head
the way it inquires broadly,
like an opera written in tornado sirens and megaphones
and the brightness of lighthouses,
for conversation he thought
had drowned long ago and only
reemerges as bubbles on the lake's surface
a boiling body popping deafeningly
with anxiety, and plumping
bravery pasta, which smells seductive,
which he loves...
he's just not hungry right now.
Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 2:49 PM UTC
My skin must be made of crystal glass
For you to stare through me so violently
I shake and shatter into a million pieces,
Your missing attention a sound wave
Deafeningly explosive to my ears.
To you, the brittle layers underneath my hide
Are playgrounds for your piercing eyes—
My flesh freezes over and turns clear
By the sheer blizzard of your neglect.
You stare into me like I was an abyss—
A shallow pit, a dark nothing—
And carry on believing it so.
My holes are things to be respected
Yet they are all you ever look through.
Your apathy has my vicious soul
Suspended in a restless air
Until I feel so unreal that I evaporate
And truly, truly, feel despair.
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
I
loathe
fighting with
my entire being.
Maybe because I have
never really been in a fight
just observed my parents, my
friends, everyone around me and
watched as the tension built and built
and built making me feel as small as a child
and as powerless too. People don’t understand
the consequences of their actions, I don’t understand
people. But, I understand fights. Words are like slingshots
catapulting friendships into dangerous territories the words you
say sometimes you mean them, sometimes you don’t and it’s the
words you mean that are the worst. Those are the words you can’t
take back. And what I understand about fights taught me this. A fight
is like a symphony it builds and builds until its deafeningly loud, and then
its quiet, and there is nothing left leaving its audience unbearably sad and at a
loss.
Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 1:18 AM UTC
*You sat next to me in quietude
But your heartbeats called me deafeningly
Reluctant to hear your voice rupture
While I waited for my name to echo stoically
You sat next to me in quietude
But you fought the guilt inside you solely
Tackled it with a valiant front
As I watched you succumb inside me spiritually
You sat next to me in quietude
Acknowledging we love semovedly
You succumbed harder in your world
And I succumbed in return silently*
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
Emerged from the forest of before,
lying out here on nature's open floor.
Hushed silence descends on the crowd,
astronomic anticipation deafeningly loud.
And an audience of many a twinkling light,
an audience of burning green eyes keep us in sight.
The spotlight is trained on a boy perched on a red box,
He ignores the creaking seats and the rude whispered talk.
The silence is blessed,
as Jupiter smiles down from above,
As the grass tickles our cheeks,
Necks arched
We need to behold it.
Clasped in embrace, lips coiled in fear,
Something is stirring, monsters of society rear
Ugly heads to turn away,
Their anger, their fright, their life...
is on display
A star gazing ****** new to this universe,
new to the way the galaxies converse.
New to the language of this astrology,
I now write previous lives eulogy.
Even though this masquerade leaves us dissuaded,
its lines ensnare us, to overlook mumbled words
and taut stagnant blank faces.
This dancing boy cries out in many voices,
now he's loud enough to be heard.
And then we see it and it's in the sky,
I don't want forever and I don't want why,
I just want to hold stardust in my hand,
To recall, remember, rewind.
As I will never understand.
In front of our eyes, they speak the final words
linked together by their unity.
One does not surpass the other,
and in their eyes we find serenity.
Who cares what you are
Under a star
Who cares how you feel
Because nothing is real
There's always more than you or me,
the world is bigger than what we see.
It's not just our stretch above,
there's more to accept and more to love,
And two hands on either side,
lead me to open my heart. Open it wide.
To swallow the stars and swallow the sky,
Swallow this terrible tragic lie
Whole.
Looking into portals to Heaven or looking into
the realms of the mind,
Whether someones is listening,
up there- I solemnly believe to find-
That someone is "vested in your success".
SO OUR LOVE ALWAYS
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 6:28 AM UTC
Your love is the fruit
Of the poisonous tree
That Adam once
Took from Eve
Tell me how is it
I couldn't see
That you were slowly
Killing me
Your voice is euphoric,
You're a siren of the sea
I'm not sure how I didn't notice
The waves crashing deafeningly
Maybe I was too entraced
In the way you spoke
Of the all the things
That you loved the most
Maybe I was too desperately
Clinging onto the hope
That your love would be the cure
Not a lethal dose
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 11:45 PM UTC
She's letting the wind blow her crowning glory
Dispersing in mid air
Touching her rosy cheeks
Covering her tantalizing eyes
She is the portrait of aesthetic art
He just watches her enjoy the panaroma
His lips stretching into a wide smile
His eyes glow with a hint of adoration
His heart pulsates under pink skies
Silence is deafeningly astounding
When two hearts synchronize in beating
And that drum beat is all they can hear
When love begins here
Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 4:43 AM UTC
read this aloud, mind the punctuation,
and, finally,
enjoy.
amethyst eyes alight with nighttime lightning, clapping lashes spark ruminations rumbling across the savannah of memory imprinting in me the afterimage of Now. Now, Now makes me hers -- though i’m more willing a captive than she imagines: imprisoned in the present, tasting the electricity resounding in this soundless cell () deafeningly solid --
she grooves before me.
slowly rolls me
me rolls slowly
molasses boiling tongues twisting towards me
ba-da doom ba-doom doom doom.
i don’t know if it’s the fireflies caught in midnight-amber jars suspended by strands of suicidal curls tumbling down the pitch of your back,
or
your touch, come tentatively, but nonetheless titillating, for it softly pleas me to get grounded, stay a while in the timbre of warm fireside conversation and cocoa,
or
your teacup of a navel compelling i to lift laughter, fish up reminiscences, and transcend time,
or
when you lean close and lick me with your eyelash, as if a butterfly’s kiss,
or
your soft voice smoothly singing songs of four-lettered blues . . .
. . . my god you’re gorgeous.
dance with me, Now for two more turns of the moon let’s defy posterity and traverse the curves of each other’s words and purge our selves of self let’s anesthetize Now, marinate in the moment, savor the silence and become sap-trapped fossils left for the future let’s live a lifetime together in two more turns of the moon, Now, so that I may memorize every quark of every electron of every neutron of every proton of every atom of every ion of every molecule of every cell of every sinew of every tissue of every ***** and every system of all your beauty, Now, you are perfect because you are am is and will never be anywhere else but here and nothing else but Now.
feel me?
feel her?
feel here?
Now.
Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 12:06 PM UTC
Isolated I stood at the shadowed corner
illuminated only by the street lamp
across the decrepit road.
Deafeningly silent I sat perched
at the bench awaiting my vessel
to deliver me.
Coyly he drifted into my universe
wearing a cloak and a smile
that would charm a Queen's guard.
Stiff like a board I stared at him
existing at a medium between
the end and the beginning.
Puzzled I was at a loss of how
to approach this drifter and his
exceedingly charming demeanor.
Thunderously my heart thumped
waiting anxiously for my vessel
that could not come soon enough.
Do I dare succumb?
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
“YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER!”
screams the judge,
wielding a whiskey and a weaponised Women’s Weekly,
as I flare inside but choose instead to smile meekly.
Was my Dad the spawn of Jeffrey Dahmer?
Or the bloke who used to watch Kojak, on a Sunday, in pyjamas?
In fairness though, the absence of the villain of this piece,
last seen clubbing in Ibiza with a girl who’s not his niece,
does nothing to lighten this affair.
Especially with his crimes bequeathed to me, his heir.
The charges apparently too ignoble for repentance,
I brace to bear the brunt and bile of sentence.
Her glib-gab gores each guilty glance.
Each chapter claimed by circumstance.
Her words a whip, envenomed lace,
lashed out anew upon my face.
It matters not that he’s elsewhere,
I stand accused for the genes I wear.
I’d serve notice now, demand redress,
if he hadn’t eloped to a vague address.
The urge to silent scream? Repressed.
Repeal rejected, defence disbarred.
Appeal affected, mis-trial marred.
A deafeningly dead deal is on the cards.
I pause perpetually and play the clock,
Until “New Witness!!” echoes around the dock.
Youngest courtroom entrant in our history,
identity unknown and gender still a mystery.
“Oh, look how wonderful this is!” coos the judge.
Now as sticky sweet and seasonal as fudge.
“Of course this cherub must approach the bench,
with the defendant as mouthpiece to represent”.
“Pray tell, sinner, its testimony loud and clear"
*Cue a minor mandate that only I can hear *
A pause. A private parley.
The pup's prose presented without palaver:
“I will grow, just like my father”.
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 3:20 PM UTC
Standing proud
Standing tall
Standing empty
Were you sweet, salty, sour or bitter
as you touched the tip of her tongue?
Insertion of jagged knife
Above my navel
Below my xyphoid
An area as delectable and soft
As the elixir you contained.
Your neck has been
Played with
Fumbled with
Her lipstick smears on your jaw
Traces of sweet notes
Leading the way
Down, down
All the way
To your base
You are deafeningly silent
But I hear what happened -
so loud -
Yet I say nothing
Because if I crack your delicate crystal
You'll only be worthless to me
Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 11:35 AM UTC
but i will.
i will write it and it may take me
five minutes
or it may take me fifty.
and neither of the two is an absurdly long amount of time,
unless you really think about it.
because five measly minutes
is just the same
as three hundred seconds.
and three hundred seconds
is just the same
as three hundred thousand milliseconds.
we've only just covered one-tenth of an entire fifty minutes,
yet already we have before us
three hundred thousand intricate units of time,
each lasting for the blink of an eye -- no, less --
then vanishing,
like the evanescent remains of a flame
that has been reduced
to first sparks,
then dull embers,
then ashes.
the funny part about it is that you never know
what each tiny little bubble of time might hold,
what might happen when it forms,
or when it pops.
a millisecond is incredibly short,
almost unfairly so.
but three hundred thousand milliseconds?
it can't be said what could happen as those fleeting fractions
slip away.
we may try to grab hold of them,
to catch them in our palms.
but time stops for no one.
so you may find yourself
with empty, bleeding palms,
as a reminder that time is harsh, cruel,
tyrannical.
and as you wrap bandages around your wounds
(or maybe not),
those fleeting milliseconds
will laugh with sudden bursts of cynicism,
like fireworks,
deafeningly silent.
they will laugh
at what a fool you were,
*thinking you could catch time
in the palms of your hands.*
(a.m.)
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC
Life and Death live inside my head
Arguing, fighting between themselves
For my attention
It's an old battle
A hard battle
But one I've fought often
I plead with Life to give me help
I plead with Death to give me leave
Each word spoken by Life
Is deafeningly drowned out by Death's hoarse scream
The quiet whisper of Life reverberates throughout my skull
But what I hear
I can no longer understand
This ever present battle between Life and Death for someone so simple as me
All I want is silence
Freedom
Silence to listen to
Freedom to ask
And with each question comes only the answer
But Life abides by no such rules
And Death obeys no laws
So I live this wretched life with a battle in my head
Forced to strain at the voice of Life being overpowered by the force of Death
I wish Life simple
And Death
Nonexistent.
Dec 7, 2011
Dec 7, 2011 at 9:23 AM UTC
Compulsion is a sad thing,
making all of emotions deafeningly ring.
So you must understand. There's things I can do, and things I cant...
Though I have to say, that don't excuse why ate your aunt.
You must understand, that when you have these enormous fangs.
Sometime you get these inexplicably ravenous pangs.
All I seem to want to do is eat,
the very first person that I meet.
Believe it or not, but I am sorry for these rather large eye's
Which were used to make mocking disguise.
I know the shock must have been great.
The aftermath I knew you'd hate.
Though the woodsman cut me open with an axe,
I honestly don't find the judgment lax.
He did what he had to do,
so who am I to ever blame you.
But though this tale maybe done,
there are plenty of children left to chase and to run...
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC
Dark clouds gathered in the sky
No ray of light was seen from up high
The sky rumbled deafeningly
Like a child crying wholeheartedly
Pitter – patter, there goes the rain
Every drop descended in my window pane
I touched the glass with my hands so little
It calmed my heart that’s fragile and brittle
I ran outside and let the rain poured on me
I closed my eyes, blinding me from what I see
I fought and won... I have too many sins
Hoping in vain, may the raindrops make me clean
I opened my eyes, there was no more rain
I clutched my chest as I felt the same pain
I smiled as I went to bed with the same hope in my brain
Hoping that when it rains, I may become whole again
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
I am standing
in the shadow of god machines
In the valley of death
wrapped in the bones of a dying sun
The city is incandescent
with the furnace flames
Of the great engine of war,
and I am floundering in the ashes
It is deafeningly silent,
and in the distance
I can see her,
in robes as bright a blue
As mine are ***** grey,
draped over my tired frame
We hold each other tight,
huddled close in a shallow crater
Finding sanctuary in turmoil
and in war
peace
Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 8:03 AM UTC
I always skip the last step.
It's a matter of doubt
and defiance.
Disappointment,
which deafeningly rings
down to my imperfect toenails.
Skipping the last step
is a step away
from envy and lust.
It's that gray silk screen
behind my head.
Left foot first-
just like dancing.
But only one step up,
then it's counting by twos.
Coming down, the same
as you do when you're high,
onetwo, onetwo, a delicate prance
MUST be bombed into the thousand pieces,
all because, (though it is also why),
I always skip the last step.
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 5:50 PM UTC
Wrecked on the couch,
my victims asked me who I was
or who I thought I was
or who I was trying to be.
I resented them, like most people
who play into my empathy for
some luxury or to **** out a sucker.
I live on a seat of noise.
Everything is deafeningly loud.
Sinking in screams
like a stale mattress
full of bedbugs,
but you need a place to sleep
for at least another night.
I fly on a deranged bird
that knows one word,
and that word is made-up.
Fictional.
I fly by inches, crawl in the sky
crawl towards death with my
head tilted backwards.
I don't even bother asking
many questions anymore,
especially about people.
I'm not so upset that nobody
particularly cares.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 1:28 AM UTC
The end is not the answer:
Spit in the wind.
Do you think to overtake
A hurricane
With a martyr drop
Of rain?
Answer me.
The end is not the answer:
When you say that
Deafeningly, I'll
Enjoy the quiet
Softness of
Thunder.
Answer me.
The end is not the answer:
Drink tea and await
A knock on your door
At 1'n the afternoon:
[knock knock]
Will you come with me?
The end is not the answer:
But when that rejection
Breaks my heart, and it
Casts the future to shadow -
My question's false premise
Was that it was open-ended.
The end is not the answer?
What part of the poem is this?
Answer me.
Sep 22, 2025
Sep 22, 2025 at 7:23 PM UTC
Green grass along a cerulean sky
Sought I
To write:
The perfect prose.
Thoroughly I searched,
Yet my pad remained plain and pure
And quite unquenched.
I strolled stolidly and walked wearily
To the water’s unexpected whims.
Amusing as it were, well…
With its lacking of lapping—
just somewhat lazy:
For the wind blew blessedly refreshingly,
Yet the waves seemed scared to surface—
Somewhat suspiciously.
Then my ears caught quite a commotion
Coming from behind me:
Chuckling and chasing squirrels
Pounced past perched pigeons
As if to bother the birds
Because of blatant boredom.
Deafeningly distracted became I
When all of a sudden
A fickle photographer focused her
Large lens
Dangerously, daringly in my direction.
Vainly I ventured to assume,
Yet I assuaged,
And I moved
Maturely… (as anyone should).
Pointed and positioned to the person of peace
placed in the park,
She snapped, and she snipped a picture or two
Inevitably to post on a wasted wall space.
As the sun set,
To be clearly cliché,
I wrapped up my writings
On my once plain and pure pad.
Had it had eyes,
It would have gawked and glanced
For my gaze in return:
“You call that a creation? Corny it is,
Not at all concise.”
Carelessly content, I closed the cover
Leaving my pad
Quite unquenched.
Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 6:57 PM UTC
Do i drag you down,
to the depths of myself
when i tell you
of what i have seen,
what i have felt,
what i have done
and had done to me?
Do i belittle you
to the size of myself,
with the stories of my past,
all that i've done.
all that i've hurt
and all i've avoided
the other lives
I used to lead?
Do i make you
to shake in your bones,
when i speak of my actions
and inactions
my screams and my cries
and most deafeningly,
my silences?
Do you pity me
or do you fear,
my child,
all i have failed to do?
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 2:57 AM UTC
*Signing up for this certain road
Foreseeable or not
Be it windingly long, or deafeningly smooth
Makes no difference to me
Because to get to the end of it
To the end of it all
And to drive on like this
Is to get to be with, and be beside you*
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 9:53 PM UTC
123 I close my eyes, count‘til nine
456 you run and hide
789 I open my eyes
To run after you
And seek where you are
One, I made step to left
Two, heads where found
Three, words collided
Four, I reassured
Five, I knew it was you
Six, I saw you kissing her
Seven, I cried
Eight, I run and
Nine, a deafeningly bang aired
And I disappeared
Like Hide and Seek
Count 123 and you’ll see
One broken heart
Two foolish hearts
and three reasons I die.
Jun 12, 2018
Jun 12, 2018 at 10:40 PM UTC