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"quietens" poems
. *… and the look of fear co-existing with pain      on a contorted face that knows it is in mortal difficulty, as ragged fingers      clutch,           clutch, at a fire they cannot reach, ripping agonies react,      to an enforced cardiac episode, as blackness closes in gravity heaves its hardest, but the fall is fake, a red herring in the event,      and the weight of the world presses down, searching, retracts waiting, presses down, searching, retracts waiting, as breath is given freedom in exhalation to the light,      that slowly rolls back the pitch hue of the void, returning back images, feeling, a new belief,           and the fire inside quietens,                     and the fire inside quietens, to the intense glow      of a burnt aching heart.* © Pagan Paul (2018)
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Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 5:45 AM UTC
Fire Inside
Every time my father is late from the front line Sickness strikes my mother and I tour with her the hospitals of Najaf. I write to him ‘come back to us now, Make your sergeant read my words: I am about to die’. He returns my letter, laughing: ‘We are the amusement of the blindman’. Oh, you River of Jasim, you tore my years Between my father’s assumed victories And my mother’s wishes in the emergency room; They used to plant hope in her mind By sticking on the glass door, Two notices confirming: (awaiting death certificate). Her heart ages so fast And I ***** from hearing the chants. Every time the presenter says ‘Victory is on the horizon’, My grandmothers’ eyes rise to the ceiling - She hides a mocking smile. With rage I scream at the screen ‘no victory’s coming’. She whispers: ‘god is generous’. ‘You sound like my father when I asked for new toys’. She quietens and we contend, Awaiting his return before a new battle, Fearing that a last fight may end the life of a dove.
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May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 12:54 PM UTC
Two Doves
She's real smoochy She's my hoochie ******* She's my sweet little Koala Bear. She's so cute And she's a total hoot Keeps me smiling throughout the day. Nice and cuddly She's bubbly wubbly Soothes all my troubles away. She's kinda kooky She's my nooky wooky My little Koo Koo Koala Bear. She climbs my tree And she talks to me Ever so softly. She holds me tight Through the darkest night Quietens me when I'm afraid. Don't you ever leave me, will ya My lovely little sweet My sweet little lovely, Koala Bear.
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May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 9:37 AM UTC
My sweet little Koala Bear
Never to have felt the wind of change upon your flesh, to dazzle and dance on the precipice. One jolt after another, character un-built.. Rarely to have left the bed unmade, After nights of raw abandon, to gaze in a lover or a strangers eyes. To let go and curse the parachute. Teeth not brushed fail to bring forth the doom that was promised. Un-cut grass does not shield waiting monsters. Chipped paint and failing wallpaper tell a story. A brush with the law wont quell the gossip mongers. Alas, to be so safe quietens no mouth. For they will talk anyhow and the sun will still rise, regardless.
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Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 12:12 AM UTC
To be so safe
my mind never stops, a whirlwind of emotions rage inside me wave after wave the slam into me without notice I’m speechless my mind never stills, unwanted thoughts consume me sparks ignite new ideas overthinking everything I’m on overdrive my mind never quietens, songs blast constantly reverberating, resounding within me countless stories and jokes and memories I’m tired my mind won’t relax and I’m trying but I’m tired
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Mar 1, 2016
Mar 1, 2016 at 3:10 PM UTC
I'm tired
Like you, But with no filters around your mouth Not stopping midway when you reach out for me. Like you but before my demons got to you. Like me, But with my heart not swelling and crashing, My lungs not elating with hope and deflating with reality Like me, but before i fell in love with you. Like you, But with strong hands that feel like fluttering of butterflies against my skin when they touch me Your footsteps sometimes syncing with my heart beats, Like you but when I could read your eyes the way I read poetry, never getting enough of either Like me, But me talking to you, rather than bringing up your name as the room quietens and my friends look anywhere but in my eyes Like me but when I had you, instead of these metaphors, and hyperbole, smilies and allegories, arranged in the shape of you so I could still have some souvenir of you. Like me but with our names that you scratched on my back not faded. Like you, But not thinking that you have had me figured out now, so you could casually go down your library and put me on a shelf Like you But not finding me to be a waste of breath. Like you but when you thought my light was worth the long period of eclipses it comes with Like me, But going on walks with you to the beach Instead of me going on and on trying to kiss the horizon or the bottom of the sea, It depends on the mood actually. Like me but happy. Like us, But when we knew exactly who it was that we wanted us to be, Instead of clinging to whatever vague ideas our mind comes up, Doing anything to distract us from the aching hollow heart we carved ourselves out of
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May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 1:20 AM UTC
Like me, but happy.
Like you, But with no filters around your mouth Not stopping midway when you reach out for me. Like you but before my demons got to you. Like me, But with my heart not swelling and crashing, My lungs not elating with hope and deflating with reality Like me, but before i fell in love with you. Like you, But with strong hands that feel like fluttering of butterflies against my skin when they touch me Your footsteps sometimes syncing with my heart beats, Like you but when I could read your eyes the way I read poetry, never getting enough of either Like me, But me talking to you, rather than bringing up your name as the room quietens and my friends look anywhere but in my eyes Like me but when I had you, instead of these metaphors, and hyperbole, smilies and allegories, arranged in the shape of you so I could still have some souvenir of you. Like me but with our names that you scratched on my back not faded. Like you, But not thinking that you have had me figured out now, so you could casually go down your library and put me on a shelf Like you But not finding me to be a waste of breath. Like you but when you thought my light was worth the long period of eclipses it comes with Like me, But going on walks with you to the beach Instead of me going on and on trying to kiss the horizon or the bottom of the sea, It depends on the mood actually. Like me but happy. Like us, But when we knew exactly who it was that we wanted us to be, Instead of clinging to whatever vague ideas our mind comes up, Doing anything to distract us from the aching hollow heart we carved ourselves out of
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As soon as the forest surrounds me I feel it; Enclosed, safe. The softness of nature envelops me. The sound of my mind quietens And the forest noises come alive. Birds calling, droplets of rain pattering on leaves, a click or a shuffle. Leaves fall like snow Softening the heart of the weary. I dare not move But with the forest exhale And acknowledge myself as one amongst the trees. Would that I could sink my limbs into the earth And join this silent gathering Change with the seasons And know my place on the Earth.
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Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 5:14 AM UTC
Forest dreaming II
It's 1939 and Hitler's on the rise, He's invaded Poland and fancies another prize, In the way is Churchill, and the Armies of the Allies, He marches straight through Europe, while they plan his demise, Each night the siren sounds and our curtains are all closed, Although we are concealed, I've never felt so exposed, I live in this war-torn land, where bombs fall from the sky, When they fall on the houses, I hear the children cry, When the bombs have fallen, and the hell is over, I watch the Luftwaffe fly away, over the white cliffs of Dover, They come each night and I feel their deadly wrath, What if I my house is on their next bombing path, Every time I see them coming, I run and I do hide, But one night I do not make it, and for my children I do cry, For a bomb has fallen on my house, and taken away my life, That bomb it took away all that I cherish and left me filled with strife, I have now decided to join and fight, for all that I have lost, I have chosen to take up arms, and fight no matter what the cost, Now I am overseas, fighting finally for a cause which is my own, All of the death and blood around me, chills me to the bone, I survive, day in, day out, all night long for months on end, I do not have long left to live, I will soon be god's friend, As the battlefield quietens down and all my friends are dead, I realise that I'm in hell, and never shall return.
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Aug 29, 2010
Aug 29, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC
Hitler's on the rise
I remember I was dead.. The moment is finally here My prayers have been answered,I've eternally dreamt That here with peace I rest and all is well. My soul quietens from the rest it has been given since it's been ever oppressed. Daily bricks are thrown my way. Each day obstacles accumulate on my path. A sigh is all that's spelled from me since these acts signify a cliché. But tonight here on my bed I rest. Peace will be regained as I pray for my subconscious to ascend to a serene place. Here, I am temporary dead. Goodnight.
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Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 1:47 PM UTC
Beautiful Temporary Death
*Each night I watch the world wind down, traffic quietens then falls still. People, ready for bed slow down and amble away. To sleep, hopefully dream. Birds stop singing, sirens stop ringing, night's peace pervades, and stillness takes hold. The earth is holding her breath and tongue. Clutching the silence is akin to touching God. Calming, reassuring, meditative and childlike. Lightness of the soul takes hold, like flight you want to soar up, up and up until crystalline clarity within the silence shows you truth. The truth is that the silence is deafening, we humans need sound in order to drown out any form of truth*
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Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 8:16 PM UTC
Touching Silence
You snake around me. I never see you coming. Appearing in the tall grasses of people, and disappearing like vapour, You are not a rattlesnake, aren't you? Your hushed strikes do not startle me anymore. I am too numb by the hustle and bustle of the crowd. I am too tired of this struggle to fade away. Are you going to sink your fangs into me? I should never have turn my back on a viper. Your lethal venom surely brought on this illness that I am unable to heal. This mental disease entered my bloodstream, traveling so unobtrusively that I have not notice it take complete control over me. You wreck me up inside immobilising me in every conversation every question that demands an answer I cannot give. Is there an antidote to end this slow sweet torture? Are you going to hide behind a corner? Your forked tongue can sense my fear as i draw nearer. I do not want to find myself falling into your embrace. You will entwine me further into yourself, Tangle me in your web of fear, anxiety and self destruction. And even as you crush and constrict harder, As I suffocate slowly and my lips turn blue, I cannot find my voice. I cannot ask for help. Anxiety is like a python after all. Its steals your breath and quietens your heart before swallowing you whole. Slowly. Painfully. Soundlessly.
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Feb 20, 2014
Feb 20, 2014 at 9:46 AM UTC
Anxiety Is A Python
She’s at a loss. Her voice quietens, weakens. She’s not herself. She’s been transformed, absorbed into someone else. She’s a fishing boat in a stormy sea. Stormy then calm. Stormy then calm. Her mind is a whirlwind of easy offences. She is a pit of jealousy; a lustful late-teen. Her mind is a television broadcasting her desires: Eight red lines upon a pale back, Shoulders indented with two curved rows from clenched teeth. Morse code embossed on sweet flesh. Love bites around ******* on thighs, on buttocks. A fictional programme. Turn fiction into non-fiction and rescue her mind; a mere sailor. Reach the shore and rescue her. Find her again. Find her voice, her strength. Evaporate the stormy sea and leave her, wholly herself.
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Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 12:55 PM UTC
Storm
I'll listen to a lullaby Dance around my brain And try to think of you Without seeing rain *hush now my love You are everything to me Let me fight away your demons Pull you closer while you sleep* As my old favourite song lyrics Get stuck inside my head Tied tightly to the image Of us curled up in bed *hush now my love I'll keep you warm As we hold each other tightly And keep at bay the storm* Cloudy smiles bright As first dew morning sun Flit around like butterflies Reminding how no one *hush now my love Your hand trembles in mine Find peace in our warmth When our hands intertwine* Has seen that side of me Since the day that you left Prooving once and for all That love truly is deaf *hush now my love Times are growing cold I am still here watching over No matter what you're told* So now I hear the lullaby And sing its sorrow's tune Knowing all love is lost But that of me for you *hush now my love When dawn comes I will be gone I'm sorry I can't hold you And keep you safe and warm* As when the night quietens Right before my eyes It's the image of you I see That drowns out my lullabies. *hush now my love Your hollowed eyes grow dark Just listen as I whisper The story as we part*
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Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC
Lonely's Lullaby.
As we gather round crackling fire All talk hushes quietens And finally dies. In this world you say as little as possible While the doors of perception are closed opened wide and deliberately left ajar....
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Mar 15, 2014
Mar 15, 2014 at 4:36 PM UTC
Ghostly Storytellers.
In the waiting room, the walls are white Scrubbed with a strong chemical weekly. The people are white The chairs are white My room at home is white When will I be called to go in? Soon. It's the longest memory, this coming and going of pain (Though the pain never really goes away) It just quietens. The hospital blinds are white Her face wasn't white (It was yellow) But I am white It is the most terrible colour Wrapping it's arms of sickness around me It is the most surreal memory (Who am I?) Was that me? It was me before half of me left When I was whole When I was not white But Pink And red And all things hopeful.
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Jul 11, 2011
Jul 11, 2011 at 2:00 AM UTC
The taking of innocence.
All night long Below a darkening sky Comes a howling wind Drowning other sounds Each gust stronger than the one before Finally the rain begins to pour Growling thunder in between Heaven's anger seeming Insatiable as lightning, Jagged, burns Knifelike slashes in the sky Lighting up the darkened Midnight hour No end in sight Only a brief occasional silence Passing through Quickly come and gone Reverberating Sound Throughout the night Until morning is slightly Visible over the horizon Wind quietens, rain becomes a drizzle X-it the tempest as the sun's Yellow rays bring the morning to lavender Zinnias and sky-blue Forget-me-nots
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May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 1:05 PM UTC
Exit the Tempest (ABC Poem)
betrayed in a dream I see an inner conflict unresolved do they ever resolve completely an on going battle quietens for awhile after death stalked a little closer than usual leaving the discomfort of the effort to survive but cleaner now more free to face the oncoming tragedies of life to be more accepting that joy never really leaves us
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Jan 23, 2015
Jan 23, 2015 at 12:09 PM UTC
washroom mirrored thinking
Where does the smoke go when it’s done drifting ? Where does the music go when it’s been played ? Where does the wind go when the storm quietens ? Where does the scent go when petals fade? Where does the taste go when food is swallowed ? Where does the peal go when bells have been rung ? Where does the moonlight go when the sun rises ? Where does the song go when it’s been sung? Where does the rainbow go when you stop staring ? Where does the morning star go when it’s night ? Where does the colour go when the night’s fallen ? Where does the darkness go when the sky’s bright? Where does the lust go when it’s been sated? Where does the youth go when folk grow old? Where does the wave go when ocean levels ? Where does the story go when it’s been told? Where does the memory go when it’s forgotten? Where does the prayer go when it’s been said? Where does the love go when it’s rejected? Where does the spirit go when it’s not fed? Where does the thirst go when it’s been quench-ed ? Where does the silence go when the talk starts? Where does the footprint go when wind’s passed over? Where does the life go when soul departs? Where does the truth go when lies are accepted ? Where does the vow go when marriage is dead? Where does the thought go when it’s not written ? Where does the poem go when it’s not read ? Trish Lambert 2010
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Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 5:03 AM UTC
I CANT HELP WONDERING
When first it comes it roars in your heart, it dances through you and no mighty deed may hold it back, it sings a song of joy that lights the dark corners of your soul that adds new rhythms to your sombre life. But when it goes it leaves a discord in you, life's beat is off and chords are missing It's harmonies fade but a tune still remains, you learn new song's but the first melody stays true, it quietens but never goes away and in the darkness of the night when new tunes don't have the hook that you once knew you remember that roar and hope to dance to that song again
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Mar 17, 2010
Mar 17, 2010 at 7:04 AM UTC
Melody No melody
the floor digging into curves i did not know by body had with my body curving absurd my hands full of realization that my shapes are awry off-the-mark my legs sit ahead lax tired filled with exhaustion of not enough miles walked enough sitting around day to day and working on support of my sitting body i feel sorry to have taken away their purpose a life should be better lived but it's owner weary and filled with excuses works day and night on sitting or sleeping not doing much but just a floater focused on a sky always cloudy a pathetic soul one of many just a sad sad soul in its generalizing with the many and the soul has no shine but hit escape life has its own rhythm and groove but the groove that once made itself known seeps into the silence of trees, nights, stars rarely seen words barely written unartistic unassuming arbitrary uninteresting invisible screaming heart quietens under burden of weightlessness of existence
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May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 4:22 PM UTC
screaming heart
All talk hushes, quietens, and finally, dies. We all tune into... nothing but, war, and its proclamation, Of death. false lies.
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Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
Radio. The Early Years.
Death has a voice, it whispers From birth, a scratching In the back of your head Days, Months, Years Flutter by, but still that Lost voice from birth, an echo Getting louder as time passes by, You are of the Flesh Skin Bone But as all things it grows old, "You hear it clearer now" As it speaks not in whispers But that moment you know That life will cease It has been telling you since birth Till this day, 20. 03. 2019 This is your last breath, it quietens With those who understand, Who know there is a time and place it must end But those who scratch that itch The voice becomes One Two Five All screaming, the end, the end, As they scream You scream, insanity takes hold, The insane don't fear death, the voices Speak through mixed tongue, an Enigma, Puzzled, Voices Spoken, They all say the same thing Even though not spoke "DEATH IS COMING FOR ME" Tears of joy, tears of fear, tears for The moment is near, That voice you hear louder through age Its been telling you the moment, That moment it will take you away..
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Nov 9, 2014
Nov 9, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
That Whisper Heard
Amid the darkness In the midst of gloom and misery She is contemplating life’s essence. Between Light and dark, Are any of them wholly good or bad? There’s the darkness that frightens There’s darkness that calms It also quietens All those fears of distress which we've In those long nights of trepidation By savoring our isolation It exposes us to our own bygone reflection likewise, light brings joy by illuminating the world In the form of fire, extinguish everything as well With an unmatchable wrath It silences everything, shutting all of life in a split flash. The world always stays in balance Both light and dark coexist in congruence It’s us who manipulate. They become, what the bearers always wishes it to be No one but night with tears on her face Watches besides her Witnessing a world filled with forever despair Life burn, souls get humiliated on its funeral pyre Ashes intensified the darkest desires She immersed herself in fire to let the light grow Fire doesn’t hurt her anymore She is blessed. Deep in the dark, the gleam would fight the endless night.
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Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 2:30 PM UTC
Amid the Darkness
my head is going to burst. the thoughts are too crowded in my head. the storm brews, it shifts and turns, rearing it's ugly head. but i'm the only one who sees it. my mouth is so bitter the dryness of my throat slowly engulfing me. the storm quietens, slowly sinking to the floor, not moving. a corpse of what once lived. my reprieve comes in intervals the paranoia entrapping me till change makes it's way.
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Jun 14, 2019
Jun 14, 2019 at 1:15 PM UTC
entr'acte