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There's less to this world
then you'd have me believe,
But more to your motives
than their apparent simplicity.
The youthless do have needs.

Where are we anymore?

Ulterior intents will remain unseen
(if even),
Meanwhile we continue to plead.
Suspicion is venomous
yet vengeful is greed.

What fuels
the human difference engine?

Paranoia is a watchdog
that hounds me.
Feed it, heed it?
Bleed it of every thought
and leave it?

In my quieter moments
I sometimes think:
"**** individuality".

There's less to this world
then you'd have me believe.

**** ego, fuel the fuego.
Pagan Paul Oct 2017
.
Come! Come! One and all,
come to my woodland hall,
attend ye all mid-winters ball,
in friendship harken to my call.

Paths awash with candle light,
in the branches burning bright,
such an enchanting magical sight,
to guide you gentle through the night.

Friends with whom to drink and eat,
cuddled warm in a sylvan heat,
while dancers fling to keep the beat,
songs are sung, lovers meet.

And by a fire in a little glade,
words are spoken, promises made,
the Bonding tree with hearts displayed,
brings memories that will never fade.

.

And when the party is at an end
I'll lovingly embrace my dearest friend,
and quieter than what lies beneath,
whisper sweet poetry to my Lady Leaf.



© Pagan Paul (04/10/17)
.
Poem 6, Series 2 of my Lord of Green collection.
.
lifeonLSD Nov 2018
It has been a while in time

-—However not out of reach

I was trying to climb highs

-—I’d dared not before dream


The whisper that followed

-—My every step into more sorrow

Softening with thy gentle hum

-—The less of the hollow i become


Not in view but within my range

-—I’ve settled a life within a place

Stiller, the quieter the strange

-—A hymn has me filled my gaze


Covering the eyes, i have them closed

-—For it’s in the heartbeat, ye old drum

The beat swung with wings that started to sing

—I thought i recognized the song


Laying still, bathed, i bask in your suns—-

—-I absorb thy lights and the winds blow in my back

All so i can let them move me as one—-
A visit from the nightingale
Ryan Nash Jan 2014
The moaning
and the groaning
were quieter than the
swishing and the sloshing
of the bottle in the hand of the
beast that was making his way to bed.
Cathyy Oct 2014
Please don't break my heart..
Break a part of yours instead..
And then give it to me,
So i can treasure it forever

Cause you are strong and brave
I've seen your story scratched on your arms..
And every day's my favourite day,
Every day that we're together..

Oh this city's vibrant, we're in the heart of something brand new,
And my phone's on silent, cause my mind's plugged into you
And we're on top of a smaller world below,
Well you and I dear.. We both know.
We're a friendship that won't sink,
..But a love that can't float

Fate don't wake me up,
Cause i don't wanna wake up to someone better
And i know I'm not the one,
But right now I'm the only one,
Writing you poems and letters

The clouds are fading,
I'm under a different sky with you
And it's amazing..
Cause you're a star that's drifting too,
And I'm not breaking, i swear,
Oh that's impossible to do,
When you and I, dear..
We're a friendship that won't sink,
But a love that might lose..

So promise me you will keep,
Coming back into my life..
Cause one day i might be,
Alone in the city, walking at night thinking..

The city's no longer vibrant, oh it's quieter without you
And my phone's on silent,
Though I'm awaiting a call from you
And when i see that star shine, from a different sky I'll know,
That you and i dear..
We're a friendship that never sunk,
We just learned to float
May be the last poem i write as a 16 year old, definitely my best though! :)
Alyan Khan Jun 13
streets are quieter than ever;
stars, brighter than ever

at its heart,
silence wanders the night
until it shines bright

the sky is silent, dark and blue
the moon, its jewel
breeze whispers in the street
the truth we failed to greet:

“our path is ought to be hard;
for there's no light
without the dark”
ava May 2018
i like that the freckles on your face match the ones on your back, and no two freckles are the same
like snowflakes
your kisses are soft and wet.
you said my full name is pretty, and i like how it sounds when you say it
i'd let you call me by it if you asked.
you drank all my wine but what you didn't know is that wine was already yours
you gave me head on the floor
in my bedroom, you pick the best songs to kiss to.
i like the way you say 'jasmines'
a quieter part of me wonders how you would go about pronouncing every flower, and how long it would take
i would stay till the end
i didn't expect to feel anything when you said i was just your friend
you laid your head in my lap, and my thighs grew feelings all around you
but you run your fingers through your tangleless hair, and all my feelings fall to the floor
i will tuck them into my shirtsleeves, wear them like a friendship bracelet
we're just friends till nightfall, by midnight i'm your favorite.
i am not a tender thing to you, and i won't tell you that i want to be
so long as you continue to say my name so softly
Bows N' Arrows Mar 2018
Foggy breeze through my
fingertips when sunburnt days
seem coveted in memory.
When the columbines came back from the dead.
Burnt up cities...
The last glimpse of
firefly lights grew dim behind me
The trees sprouted everywhere like stardust
The pillars I once worshipped
in incense with amulets
became faded ruins...
The weathered walls texture
were like sequins with no glimmer
I escaped again to a place with green lakes and forrests of pines
It's quieter up here in the
mountains
Like a shudder through the
window
I hear the old house moan all
through the day and all
through the night
The sunlight pierces through
the blinds
illuminating his face
which is already illuminated
But you're my bumblebee
that insignia- a honey gatherer
If you subtract the intimacy
out of ***...
Nothing's left, but
hollow mechanical *******
Stealing the rythmn from
the music
Sturdy as a beam I lay
Unable to grasp at anything
It's just noise
Sweaty day, shivering nights-juxtaposed
It's like living on Mercury
In decomposition like a basket of rotten lemons
Past conversations crush their
weight against my open ribs
No parent teacher or friend
told me how all consuming the sensation would be...
Dazed eyes staring through
disheveled blinds,
I was dropping rose buds off the
second floor balcony in the night
They hit the scratchy asphalt
like a gentle meteor shower
Monotonous nights replay
the same phases
That moon...
A face splashing
from gibbous to crescent
Waning on my malady
Always stirring like a steady torch
r Jan 12
It’s cold outside tonight
but I had to get out of the house
so I went walking about without
any particular thought in mind
as to where I was heading, you see
I was feeling kind of pine-boxed in
and couldn’t sleep, I needed a 2 a.m.
cigarette, so I put on my clothes, my boots
a coat, grabbed my smokes and slipped
on out the sliding glass door, it’s quieter
than the front one that has a bad habit of slamming, not laying blame, but ****
if it wasn’t darker than the inside of my
eyelids, darker than  the catacombs where
dead stars go when they die, and the moon hides away when it’s all out of shine, just
like where my thoughts sometimes seem
to go, you know, when my mind just won’t
put things behind me, and I’m feeling all
kinds of silence, it’s like listening to moss
growing on stones and wondering things
like why bees don’t die in their own honey
and a white stone in a field full of field-
stone is a pretty nice rock, but still, a rock
all the same, so I walk to the dock down
the road in the dark where a man can go to wash his troubles away before day breaks.
George Anthony May 2016
i never wanted to kiss her lips,
just hold her hand
maybe kiss her cheeks because she suited a gentler kind of treatment
something softer and more delicate, quiet;
quieter than the constant raging storms inside my stomach,
inside my mind
(never my heart)

those plump lips
she bit them raw when nervous, and they swelled
blossomed ruby as she looked at me
like she knew this wouldn't last
her eyes remained doughy and mellow
when i met her gaze.

my smile stung as it stretched the lines left by winter's bite
and split them open once more.
she brushed the blood beads away with her fingertips
with a touch so reverent that, for a moment, i thought
maybe she felt as though she were touching rosary beads instead,
and i held my breath to stop myself from chasing her
touch, and pressing her down into the mattress

unholy, chasing pleasure.
both agnostic, but she was much more pure than i;
chivalries always in mind, i wanted to preserve that.
there's always been something inside me
that presses down the animalistic urges with
a conscience caught on consideration and something akin to courtly love-
i wanted to woo her before i pursued her

but i never got further than pressing my lips to her forehead,
wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
i laced my fingers with hers but avoided tying any knots.
i am not a man to be bound,
too free-spirit, too restless, too claustrophobic;
a few months in and i was choking on the ghost of a future;
she kissed me first and i suffocated on the phantom of her hopes for us:
a future that didn't yet exist,
and i didn't want it to.
i never kissed her; i never let her kiss me again.

we tangled fingers over the duvet
the television a background noise to our unsteady breaths,
shallower
than my love for her
i enjoyed her quiet affection like one might enjoy curling into a blanket when cold and ill.
i wanted her smiles, i wanted to fill her memories with goodness
so that she never need feel hopeless, like all men are the same
so that she had something to smile about when she looked back on us;
once the bitterness of our breakup had left her mouth-
whenever that eventual end would be-
she could savour the taste of our sweet, slow-burn, love affair
and be reminded that not all love is true love, but nor is all love heart breaking

i broke her heart anyway.

nobody ever taught me how cruel kindness could be.
Steve Page Jul 2016
Father is a verb.
- Let me explain:

Father's Day; and
Father Christmas 
have tried to convince us,
but don't be fooled:
You can, may or will father, 
depending on your mood.
For father is a verb.

It only works in the transitive;
you can't father alone,
only in relationship.
It doesn't resent hospital trips,
and offers wrap-around comfort
when a partnership splits.
It's touch-line volume
drowns out all rivals.
And belly laughs come standard
with jokes on recycle.

[insert joke here]

Yes, father is a verb.

It's something we each do,
despite the hour,
it drives right on through
the night when life’s gone sour.
It'll hammer ten finger nails
to get the job done.
It will dance, heedless of decorum
forgetting reputation. 

It turns manliness
into awesome-men-ness,
It tempers strength 
with a dose of gentleness, yes
father is a verb.

Be sure, whoever you are, 
it works in the singular:
I can father;
You can father
    (I'm not talking *** here;
     that takes a partner.)
But also, 
-  it works in the plural -
we can father;
and they can father,
because, you see, in this village
it's an joint activity:
we father (and we mother) 
collaboratively.

It works best in the present tense,
happening now, not "LATER!".

It can be said in a gentle voice
or something - even - quieter;

sometimes active:
directive, protecting;
but often responsive:
just sitting, listening;
...holding, and, hugging;

it responds to need, you see,
but works best proactively,
works great 
sacrificially.

For example, 
though it cost him dearly,
God Fathers us
and through us daily.
And one day, suit pressed, 
He'll proudly walk 
with the bride of Christ.
And as Father of the bride, 
He'll host the party and blow the price;
(- BIGGEST - bar-bill - EVER)
And we'll be sure to save at least one dance
for Father.

Oh yes, you heard,
Father is a verb.
This is written with thanks to all the men who have fathered me over the last 50 odd years and as a salute to those of you who father without borders.
With thanks to Godfrey Rust and his poem, Church is a Verb.  Go on, search for it.
Seanathon Jun 23
Quicker than the blink of a Firefly
Brighter than the summer days and nights
Quieter than a Brook trouts breath
And more beautiful than the gradient sky
Are the words which I've yet to hear from you
But look forward to
Most fervently
Fervent Series (1/10) - 06/23/19
violavics Jul 2017
Quieter days stand before me as if they are trying to tell me
   that the answer lies  
perhaps there is more than one
perhaps there is none
What was it that should’ve been done

I catch her staring off into space
Then closes her eyes
for an instant, expressionless face
contagiously gleaming
then opens her eyes

I find her worries to be uninviting
Do not dare to come near
casting a spell is intertwined
With aftermath that must be endured

Immediately raising her voice
but not raising words
cannot find the right choice
resorting into vanity

Quiet days stand before me as if they are trying to tell me
that the question divides
perhaps there is more than one
perhaps there is none
What was it that could’ve been undone

I catch them gazing into place
then close my eyes
for an instant, enthusiastic face
contagiously beaming
Then open my eyes

Disengaged with comfort of my own
Do not dare to come near
breaking a spell is defined
with progress that must be lured

Effortlessly blending her dreams
but not blending thoughts
can find the right choice
morphing into sanity
July 6th 2017: Written as I was thinking of my dearest family members
Elle Jul 10
The moon looked so cold
It grew quieter and quieter still
And yet I wanted nothing more than to reach out and feel its chill
No disturbances from the light
No face stitched to rock
Only a sliver and a shiver
Circles of glow rung around its neck
And the distant cry of a crow
Chloe Aug 2018
There was a girl and she tried and tried

She would try to fix your broken bones with the bandages in her satchel.

But you looked away and never paid attention.  

She’d come to your rescue before you need her too, but you turned her away and sent her home.

She gained a voice in the back of her head, that told her all the lies she felt.

The lies felt like truth, so she listened to them.

She became abused and neglected, so she faded into the background.

She sharpened her knives and took havoc.

But she didn’t hurt you, no, instead she hurt herself because she loved to deeply and hurt so much.


She began to fade away, the scene became quieter and quieter.

You realized something was missing, when you were down and no one was around.

You didn’t know where she was, you didn’t know she was alone in her room, dark shadows around, feeling numb to the feeling while sadness overwhelmed her.

You needed her then and you need her now, but you pushed her away, and now she’s gone.

So you paid her a visit, hoping for a few sweet words and the sympathy stringing, but when you came inside you found her body beaten and bruised.

Because you weren’t there when she wanted you, you didn’t want her when you needed her, so she faded away permanently. Because the person she loved didn’t want or need her so she believed that was her fate.

Now she’s gone and there’s no coming back from this. You should’ve been there for her when she was alive and happy.

There was a girl and she tried and tried
Napolis Nov 2018
And in the
pieces of
your day
do you
ever read
my poems
to yourself
out loud,

or send a
thought
in open
cloud sky
my way,

do you
feel the
ever so
light change
of season
in your life.

where now you
sense,

by reading these
poems there
is now something
different in
your world,

perhaps a
smile unexpectedly
or a
giggle that
you can't
figure out
why,

or you
see a
place that
you have seen
a thousand
times before,

but somehow
today it somehow
looks differently.

these are
the pieces of
you I now
share and
shape these
words upon
this paper.

and because of
that I am wiser
still,

and also quieter
in thought.

at the
moment that
one day I
might hear
your heartbeat
near.

and  we
might sit
across a
table,

for a cup of
coffee or
two.
I’ve tried to care for women
But only rejection in return

The quieter, geeky types like me
Get only hated, scorned, and spurned

The female human animal
Also filled with malice

True in suburbia
True inside the palace

Despite this deep despair
I reject misogyny

I just could not find the right one
To blend with one like me

I’m wounded, guilty, hurting
But still I wish her well

What will happen now
Ain’t no tongue can tell.
Kat Apr 6
Cloudy eyes
Broken heart
A sad soul about to fall apart

Telling them how to feel only for them to walk away
Saying no and another message underway
You aren't enough for me
You aren't enough for my no

Nosy and leering eyes
Judging smirks
with loud whispers

thump

ThUmP

THUMP

Banging against your ribs
Calling out only for pain to come
Crumbling pieces blowing away in the wind
Humiliation sinking in

A shaky step towards the street
A stronger one so they meet
Taking off like a plane
Soaring to quieter place

Trembling hands
Blurring sight
Fumbling to get the key right
A hard shove to the sticky door
Brain is sluggish so you fall to the floor

Buried in blankets and memories
only to keep on shivering
The heart feels raw and clawed apart

Piece after piece you build up walls
Only for someone to take a fall
Dragging you down
Destroying the walls

A rejection will always be there but fades to a memory when time helps you become strong

Cloudy eyes
Healing heart
A soul no longer falling apart
Ceida Uilyc Mar 23
I thought I’d learned all I had to
Turns out there’s a thing called getting better at what you do.

I thought I’d seen all them follies of life hitherto
Turns out there’s a thing called getting greater than what we were.

I thought I’d swept all them sins right out
Turns out there’s a thing called getting cleaner than what you are.

I thought I’d wept all them regrets inside-out
Turns out there’s a thing called getting calmer than what I was.

I thought I’d kept all them promises I made to my beau
Turns out there’s a thing called getting quieter than what I could’ve.
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