"quieten" poems
Welcome to the age
of information
when we are blessed
by wireless waves
passing through
our body/minds
and awakened
by the electronic chemistry
of the computer,
the television,
the radio,
all the little
electrical gizmos
which are everywhere,
so I wonder
what is this doing
to our brains?
so this is not a forest anymore
and it's no wonder
that we can't quieten our minds
no matter how we try
so why don't we just
learn to love
the new electromagnetic ocean
and float on our sea
of meaningless thoughts?
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 7:20 AM UTC
My last neighbours made no noise at all
never knew they were there.
But they passed away completely quiet
nothing to disturb me.
It did not last a new neighbour arrived
my tranquillity deprived!
At first not much sound came from next door
hoping it would quieten down.
Then louder noises emanated in the wall
hammering sounds too.
Worried I knocked their door to complain
from anger I tried to refrain!
Never a reply but a lot of vehicles came after dark
many arrived and went.
Few if any ever during those daylight hours
when black curtains were shut.
A nasty smell started to make me feel ill
something burnt on a grill!
I hadn't believed in vampires until the neighbour
moved in next door!
From then on my windows stayed tightly shut
who would believe me?
No animals came near which was a good thing
but what would the future bring?
The noises got worse even afraid to sleep
an atmosphere so grim!
In the end I had to leave while I could
as people began to disappear!
I knew what my neighbour was next to me
but would they let me be?
For a long time after I saw bats above my head
was it my neighbour one of the undead?
The Foureyed Poet.
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 5:38 PM UTC
Amidst the humidity and darkness of the forest floor
ants scurry in hyper-speed over invisible highways
mushrooms spread boldly beneath wise wooden giants
At night, black panthers weave through thick overgrowth,
undetected, as birds quieten their hungry young and sleep
But even in the rich darkness of the dense forest
micro flashes of silken pink and yellow cream can be seen
catching the moon's light, glowing like precious gems
By day these colours dim in their translucent chambers
atop the world's most beautiful, fearless caterpillar
This tiny being boldly ventures from one leaf to another
while all others cower underneath
Its crystal spikes hide only soft, sticky goo
and it is no bigger than a fingernail
But don't be fooled by its size and raw beauty,
this bejeweled crown easily summons its strength
to move faster than the predators awaiting
Its beauty comes not only from its form
but in its lion-hearted spirit and grace
This confident caterpillar lives
and surrenders to change
without the leaden shackles of fear and worry
and when the time comes
she embraces
and is transformed again
to something new.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 12:38 AM UTC
Claim me to rid my mind of misery,
although do not weep when my inner grief
grants you no extra power like the ones before me.
I’m warning you now, dear Beast,
all you can gain from this consumption is weight -
I have no power left in storage - but I beg for this.
On my hands and knees; I beg for you
to quieten my screaming weakness.
Jun 6, 2022
Jun 6, 2022 at 5:44 PM UTC
.
*"Quieten down...
Release your anchor, and sink into bed."*
***"I can't...
The whims of the world are much to heavy...
For me not to bother."***
*"The weight of the world isn't yours to bear...
It'll sort itself out,
if only you'd give it time to spare..."*
***"But that's just it, isn't it?
If only there's enough time for all of it to fit.
The ******** truth is...
there's never enough.
There can never be for those built with edges so rough."***
*"Why are you so sure
about something that has yet to happen?
When future's sand has yet to be spilled,
and its ink has yet to be written."*
***"Because that's just me.
I am a being fraught with worry.
You know that.
It's the only way I can be ready.
It's the only way I can be steady."***
*"Then allow me to keep you company.
For I am you, as much as you are me.
Till such time you eventually feel,
that you're ready to retire and heal."*
***"Thank you...
Your words comfort me much.
I welcome you,
to see me through this chaos in my head.
I've severed the anchor...
Let us sail to tranquillity,
leave the turbidity in our wake.
And replace it with
peaceful dreams in its stead."***
ryn
ryn
.
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 4:14 PM UTC
I finally did it today.
Tired,
Out of breath,
Ready to collapse,
But I finished.
I've always trailed behind everyone.
But at points in which I wanted to give up,
You told me to keep going.
Stay strong.
Build endurance.
Fight and win.
I trusted you and kept you in a special place in my heart,
Whenever I struggled, I looked for those words of inspiration,
Of Hope.
Then a fight happened,
You insulted me,
Told me I could never do it,
You destroyed my pride,
Made me humble.
Did I cry? No.
Did I give up? No.
Was I furious? Yes.
How ironic.
At the finish line my friends congratulated me,
the coach gave me a pat on the back,
but you weren't there.
How weird,
In the end the one thing that kept me running.
Was the pride you helped me build and destroy.
How ironic
After everything, I only have one thing to say to you.
You built everything and destroyed it,
You assaulted not only my pride, but myself.
Then you left...
But when you left, you left me something.
You left me a blueprint and a message.
The message: You are on your own now.
The blueprint, a blueprint to self training and self reliance.
You showed my humility,
You showed the true state I was in,
You showed me who I truly was,
but you also showed me my potential.
I built on that knowledge,
and with the blueprint,
I rebuilt myself and who I am.
It is ironic.
Because at the end,
The logical thing for me to remain mad.
The logical thing for me is to hate you.
The logical thing for me is to despise you.
But it is ironic.
Because at the end,
On this hill,
Staring into the sunset,
As sweat dripped down my face,
As my heart began to calm,
As my lungs began to quieten,
As the cool winds blew past me,
On the Hill of my Victory.
At the end I only have one thing to say.
Thank You.
Thank You,
with all my honesty and integrity,
I thank you for doing what you did to me.
If you hadn't I would've never been where I am now.
So at the end,
although it is logical for me to be angry, to hate, to despise.
I nevertheless thank you.
Apr 30, 2013
Apr 30, 2013 at 7:15 PM UTC
He shyly looks at her.
Everything seemed to quieten to this lovely silence;
a stillness which is pierced by
his
own
steady and sure heartbeat.
By the way her nose twitches slightly and her red lips flutters a little,
she is just about to sneeze.
Ha. Adorable lady.
Bless you?
Bless those eyes that inexplicably managed to see through the
gossamer veils of good and the bad and
above all,
me.
Bless those crimson -No, it is actually a meld of strawberry and raspberry stains. But I won't tell her that just yet.- cheeks.
Bless that lovely soul that you have, the kind that lights up your eyes and peek-a-boos in your smile.
Sweet-heart, you could never be scary anyway.
& And &
bless that smile which can flicker one on my lips.
She sneezes, blissfully oblivious to all these little words that flit around her.
"Bless you, sweets."
He whispers, like
he
always,
always
does.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 7:58 AM UTC
You escaped
Through my fingers again
That answer which I
Have been clumsily chasing
With scabby scabby knees
Under starry starry nights
In quiet, lonely corners spent
Watching something indecipherable
A small answer
With such a resounding voice
Which I hope will soothe my brow
My nightmares it will quieten
An answer which I've been restlessly searching for
In the blood on my wrists
The scars that appear on my body-
Intentionally and otherwise
Digging open my heart and sometimes others
I rip them apart, stride (run) through recklessly
But when I leave, I don't leave a single mark
Sadness, weariness, desolation, isolation
All belongings of the poet
I will say hello to whichever one
I haven't greeted yet
Just so I can define and finally see
In all my sanity and insanity
That elusive, elusive answer
Born in starry starry skies
Starry starry cosmos
Descending beautiful
Maybe you might give me a kiss
In all your infinite knowing
Something too beautiful for this world
At the moment when Oblivion opens
Its arms to me
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 3:17 PM UTC
stigma a small six letter word,
but blocks the way;
to unconfident to be heard.
you beastly biased blighted word,
you block the light your so obsurd.
stigma stands blocking our path,
scared alone or scared they'll laugh.
you discust me with your devilish way,
blinding us all through night and day.
stigma move over;
let me soar or fly.
keeping tears blocked to afraid to cry,
I PRAY.
stigma should be shunted,
let's educate the world.
seeking help not stunted,
speak up with spoken word.
I SPEAK.
stigma you shrink and weaken,
as my pain with few I share.
confidence growing faster,
now eased enough not to care.
IT HELPS.
stigma I'd like to see you crumble,
like an old still dry stone wall.
you will never see me stumble,
a voice to listen to all.
A FRIEND.
stigma you no longer have the power,
to quieten us from the 'norm'.
it be boring if all the same,
unique from day us all born.
EMBRACE DIFFERENCE.
stigma now disheveled,
in future hope your gone.
knowledge giving power,
to show us all your wrong .
EQUALITY.
Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 8:38 AM UTC
night time doth slowly encroach
on the creatures of the bush
their activity shall quieten
as the stars sparkle
Dec 1, 2013
Dec 1, 2013 at 4:05 AM UTC
I nearly tore myself into a million
Billion little pieces so many times
Was on the brink of something
So destructive too many times
As I see this happening,
This thing with no one caring about
What scarring remains
I hide them quickly, carefully
Too much experience at it
But I hide it away, quieten it
For another day. Damp the pain
So when I'm alone, I can let it return
Let it shake my soul, my will power
At two in the morning, I wish
That I could just let it be for just
A moment so that I can rest for
Forever and a day. My thoughts
They strike too close, do not try
And understand. I would just like
To be given a hug, warmed over
By something as trivial as a smile
What I would not do for someone
To see me for a change but now
It hardly matters, because you
They don't see me
They never did anyway and
I would be ****** if I allowed
Myself near such people ever again
I had rather become a wallflower
Dead on my eighteenth birthday
Discovered lying in a pool of my own blood
My entire life's work burning alongside
Don't blame yourself mom, don't
Blame yourself dad, not you either brother
This was my decision. In the end, I was
Too weak and it was only the thought of you
That kept me here till today.
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 4:27 PM UTC
The perimeter
Has been laid out;
A fine frame
To encase our landscapes.
We choose where to start,
Working from the top, bottom or sides,
And moving towards the middle ground,
Where land meets water,
The mountains are snow-capped,
The autumn skies are resplendent
With patterns of red and blue.
The copse is shadowy,
With dark green pines ********* soft clouds.
The white-capped lake will never quieten;
But we piece our puzzle.
Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 10:46 AM UTC
I don't look like me, I don't sound like me,
I don't feel like me.
Sometimes it feels not like I'm in the present,
But like I'm from the future sent back too far into the past,
And I'm impatiently waiting, playing catch up
Until my body grows into its brain.
Please, god, let me grow into myself.
My skin feels stretched too tightly over brittle bones,
And my muscles are so itchy,
I want to rip away my flesh just to reach inside.
My heart clamours incessantly, hurling itself at my rib cage
With such ferocity that my entire chest shakes with its beating.
Please, god, let something quieten it,
And if it can't appease it, please, god, let something silence it for good.
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 8:03 AM UTC
*lead me to your lofty bower
like a pilgrim in penance
quieten my creaking doubts
and to sleep lull my thoughts
touch me softly in that moment
of inner sorrow and torment
whisper to me of freshly-ground memories
and amaze me with wondrous lucid visions
walk me to the end of experience
and hear me as i wail no more
about broken dreams and sad joys
in lyrical moments of wild abandon
make my heart grind like one toiling
and dim my eyes with painful realization
the world belongs to the chosen few
who grasp eternal paradoxes on cue
and when the distant bugle is sounded
i shall be among the confused many
failing to read the signs of the times
emblazoned upon the dancing sky for all to see*
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
her skin,
flecked with imperfections
of jagged silver
and curves
embedded with diamonds
that reflected
every dimension
of her glowing candor
it drew him
enthralled him
his opulent body
would burn
at the thought
of having hers
pressed
against it
but under his touch
her luminous body
would crumble
her suffusive aura
would turn
to wisp
her pearly ashes
would swirl
in the realm
of the numen
forevermore
so he withdrew his touch
he moved further away
his ebbing heat
never touched
the satin lace
that tied
a dainty bow
over her ****** heart
every day
he would yearn
each night
he would quieten
*there,
now you've heard
the story
of how the sun
loved the moon so much
that he died every night
to let her breathe.*
Mar 14, 2014
Mar 14, 2014 at 1:07 PM UTC
(10 w x 6)
I'm losing hold,
reflexes...relaxed,
...in a cradle,
..........swayed....by---
O
strong summer-y wind
................pushing
........pulling.....
......c a d e n c e... is
..........h y p n o t i z i n g...
.............playing music,
O
a sleepy tune
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~lulling the mind
~ ~ ~ and the eyes ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ while
O
~ ~ ~birds flitting about
~ ~ ~ ~dull the senses, and
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ quieten the soul...
O
i cannot...
i don't want
to ~ ~ fight ~ ~ it
~ ~ any ~ ~ longer
O
~ ~ to the gentle afternoon breeze
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ blowing ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ i finally ~ ~ ~ ~ willingly
~ ~ ~ succumb ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
O
Sally
Copyright January 26, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC
2AM. Anxiety rings
Insomnia with it, it brings
I wish to sleep, close my beaten
Eyes. My thoughts quieten, Retreat in
To the place where I no longer have to think
All the experiences of today and my past interlink
My subconscious taking over with pictures they slink
down into dreamworld I hope I'd go This time I think
But unfortunately, That's not the way it is.
So I lie awake in my bed.
Thoughts
Rushing
around
in my
head
inst
ea
d
Aug 28, 2020
Aug 28, 2020 at 10:22 AM UTC
I’d trace your spine until you felt the love from my fingertips burn hotter than the pain shrieking in your bones.
I’d fiddle with your lamp until it was the perfect shade of indigo.
I’d keep watch for you in the dark and shield you in the blinding light.
I’d run you baths that made you feel pure.
you’d never sleep alone,
unless you wanted to.
even then,
I’d be sitting against your door
with a glass of tea,
fruit,
and your pills.
I’d write you pathetic sonnets.
I’d sing you off-key songs.
I’d read you poetry that brought us both to tears.
I’d draw you stupid doodles and try to make you laugh.
you’d never be alone
on the miserable floor.
those ********
with all their relentless,
maddening buzz
wouldn’t be heard over me.
louder,
or more demanding.
I’d feed you Nutella: my very last spoonful.
I’d clean your room as often as you wanted, or never.
I’d take you to bookshops and cafés and nowhere at all.
I’d sit with you and play with your piercings.
you wouldn’t be alone,
staring awake at dawn.
the dark,
it wouldn’t be spent so restlessly.
I wouldn’t quieten my desire.
no.
not this time.
I’d say I’m sorry when I laughed so hard I spit.
I’d love you when you couldn’t love yourself.
I’d care for you when all you saw was waste.
I’d carry you wherever we went and tell everyone you’re mine.
Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 10:57 PM UTC
Golden trees, Golden leaves, shimmering in the sun, blinding lights. Tiny suns, piercing through the night when it rains, it shimmers, all the more, twinkles in the night, shining bright.
It shimmers in my eyes, my eyes smiles wide. The vines of the Golden tree, it stretched out, reaching for its wanted love. It's getting dark, its quieten down, the tree sways, in the melancholy sound of the night. It hurts to see it die, in the middle of the night…. it's dying it's never getting younger it's not getting brighter…
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 9:19 AM UTC
*I know you when you delicately stitch the fragments of your unbecoming
When everyone else is reaching is reaching for the sun
I know you when you ache to swallow it
When you rip through yourself
Searching for the skeleton key
That will quieten the longing
The cure
Vague, elusive
I know you when your love is sacrificial, ****** clingy but real.*
Jan 28, 2022
Jan 28, 2022 at 10:50 AM UTC
I made myself so.
So small
For so long
So talk over me,
I won't mind,
I made myself so.
So quieten me,
If it's what you need.
A speechless soul,
I silenced myself so.
Daddy didn't see you
So take your aim
Argue and I will cower.
I taught myself so.
Spread corrosive untruth,
Use me and chew me out,
I oppressed myself so.
I see the end light,
And imminent reprieve.
So do what you like,
I'll make myself so.
I unpeeled my skin
And started again
I lost you and them
And started again.
I made myself so.
Feb 17, 2021
Feb 17, 2021 at 6:11 PM UTC
I cannot keep this
This fruitless ache
This pounding in my head
There go my blades
At their works
****** arts!
Sign the dotted line in blood
Your blood!
We try to bleed it out!
each droplet an hour of agonies
crimson muck
We cried but in vain
This depressive, this manic
This open raw wound
to which everyone spits in
For tis that which they doth not see
Oh so blind to!
Therapies, forsooth! a worthless pastime
Clonazepam, Quetiapine
Dampen the mood, quieten the voices
A mind torn asunder
for of winter snow
and summer thunder
a body I do plunder
to rip out these demons
exorcise these ghouls
claw out these ghosts
This cannot be glorified
it is not beautifully broken
but tearing oneself apart
to remove the ashes in my head
Borderline personality disorder
Post traumatic stress disorder...
Dec 4, 2016
Dec 4, 2016 at 3:40 PM UTC
Cool night.
I feel my skin
harvesting the dew
brought by the gentle breeze.
I inhaled the frozen air
deep into my lungs
to quieten the fire
in my heart and mind.
I exhaled...
Hoping to see the smoke
from a blaze extinguished.
But I realise in the quiet
and the dark...
Given air and attention,
the tiniest of flames
burns the loudest and brightest.
Dec 26, 2017
Dec 26, 2017 at 7:51 AM UTC
One thing I love about people is that they have stories to tell you. Stories that tickle you and make you laugh really hard stories that bring tears to your eyes,
stories which quieten you and make you introspect
stories that awe you, stories which move your ground
stories which change your perception about life
stories that make you question the existence of god and stories which make you believe in him
stories that shake you to the core
stories which make you fall in love with someone and stories which break your heart
stories which make you feel complete and stories which help you realize your flaws
stories which fill you with agony and stories which make you feel blessed
stories which helps you understand the complexity of relationships
stories that make you value the tiny moments of happiness spent with loved ones
stories which kick you in the gut, stories which rip you apart, stories which make you feel naked
stories which scare the hell out of you, stories which bring out the warrior in you
stories that hurt you, stories which heal you
stories which help you find the purpose of your life and stories that stay in your heart forever.
So a person isn’t just a man/woman,
***** is an untold story, an unsung song, an unread novel and an unraveled mystery waiting to be heard, sung , read and discovered.
All you need is the patience to listen, the warmth to care and the empathy to understand.
The magical world of stories is waiting for you
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 12:21 PM UTC
Born in a remote village somewhere in the North
Yaro
Where the fulanli herdsmen twirl sticks as they guard cattles
Yaro
Makes one remember that boy in the bible who tended to his father's sheep all day
Yaro
Life was rosy, bed warm and cosy.
Mother was called "Mama" and age stricken father was "abba".
I sometimes wondered who matchmaked them
Mother looked like she was babysitting the world
Father looked like he was going to die any minute
But they loved me and that was all my infant mind wanted
For you see I was nothing but a
Yaro.
I loved the mornings, when goats where being let out of sheds
And I ran around the huts in our compounds
In between my father's leg and over my mother's lap
Bowls of koko and ***** of kosai couldn't quieten me.
I never knew your breakfast of "Kellogs varieties" or
One apple a day, to keep the doctor at bay.
For you see I was nothing but a
Yaro.
But I was alright or so I thought.
The afternoons were spent chasing Hassan and Hussein
Those "wicked" twins who would not allow our chickens rest
My world was coloured brown, brown goats, brown huts
Brown sand, brown faces and maybe brown hearts.
Brown was the only colour in the world except of course
The sky, which was blue sometimes and white at other times.
One day, when you were still in homes covered with zinc
Father pulled me out of bed and handed me over to some fierce looking men
Mother wouldn't look at me, Hassan and Hussein stood far away.
Father was the one holding me so I knew he was not dead yet.
He handed me my new pair of slippers and pointed to the men
"They'll teach you life," he said.
"But.." I replied only to be cut short by the sting of a slap
"You're nothing but a..."
"Yaro", I replied.
So this was it..I was leaving me behind.
Mother hid behind her layers of clothing like a coward
Father stood proud like an English man
I stood with all of them around me feeling nothing
But what my Yaro mind allowed me to feel.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 4:42 AM UTC