"shhh" poems
Leaves, sticks, and seeds make up this six foot stalk.
Oh, how she blooms before the flashing lights!
Leaving men and women with a stunned gawk.
Oh, you cause the seeds of your kind at night,
to dream of heights they won't reach; how sadly
try the delusional. But in all kin,
is imprinted least a scar on their psyches.
Sacrificial offer in porcelain
is ritually performed by some daily.
If not for fame, glory, or money, then
to mirror fashion people's ideal beauty.
A cyclic mental disease that won't end.
Shhh.. Here she comes! The first, but not the least.
An appetizer for the famine feast!
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 2:59 PM UTC
* **HIM
Hello love, ya I just got into town
Well I just thought, you know
If you were going to be round....**
HER
The lover of my dark desire just calls.
He beckons with a smile.
"Come hither." whispers husky voice
alluring me with guile.
My heart compels me to comply.
My brain says "This is wrong."
And yet, I find my feet move toward
the magnet of his song.
**HIM
Did he ever wonder, about that one time
Does he know that those were mine
You know she would surely die
If I ever left her high and dry...**
HER
Shhh ... a finger on his urgent lips,
"the rest let's just forget"
I'm aroused by heated passion
igniting lust within ... I'm wet
**HIM
No one can know what tomorrow will bring
But for tonight my love, it's you for me
Behind the gas station I just couldn't wait
I put her up against wall in trance like state**
HER
Penned against the wall with parted lips
A kiss to potent to breathe
Not nearly private enough, still
my legs part, spread with his knee
**HIM
So willing as I pulled up her dress
Gasping for lust with erratic breaths
No need to be bashful when freaking at night
Three moons were shining vividly bright**
HER
I surrender. I give up.
Release me from the spell.
No recourse now exists for me
but succumbing to ecstasy, as well.
**HIM
Such passion for life
Breeds a hunger for lust
Fulfilling and satisfying
Yet I can't get enough
Her smell on my fingers
As I take to the road
Another memory
Worn into flesh and bone**
HER
{CODA}
A chill descends upon my heart
as I watch him drive away.
And as I've done so oft' before,
I wish for him to stay
And though I know he must go
back to his life there.
I close my eyes and smell his scent
dreaming of all we shared.
by
Traveler Tim
&
Cné*
Jul 6, 2017
Jul 6, 2017 at 4:26 PM UTC
Outside,
the snow is serenely falling
its illuminated resplendence
vying with that of the full moon
suspended in the silent night sky.
Inside,
it is just as silent
the only sounds the occasional spark and crackle
of the logs in the fireplace.
And two hearts harmoniously beating.
Wisps of smoke coyly rise from the sandalwood incense
gracefully whirling in the air like dervishes,
the room redolent with the fragrance of serenity
As I repose on the couch,
your head upon my lap,
you hold one hand against your rhythmically beating heart;
while with the other
I absently play with your hair.
There are no thoughts,
only heart thinking.
There is no speech,
only heart speaking.
There are no words,
only heart spilling.
~
You slowly rise from my lap and look through my eyes
and into my soul.
When I come to speak,
you gently place a loving finger against my lips,
whispering
“shhh“
Time revolves all around us,
yet within us — stillness;
the silence palpable.
Our souls become one
with the other,
with the tranquility of the night,
with the gently falling snow.
Our breathing falls in sync to a rhythm known only to the cosmos.
At the end of our inhales,
there you are.
there I am.
And then you speak..
three words..
Three words that contain the universe within them:
“This is bliss“
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 9:44 AM UTC
Those poppy fields were lifeless,
but now they shine with light.
The war has made them bleeding,
the Peace has made them smile.
Each flower is a soldier,
who sacrificed his life,
who gave up his own future
to make our future count.
Each flower tells a story
of man and woman's fight,
you hear them in the glory
of petals shining bright.
Shhh, quiet, can you hear this?
The flowers - making sound.
The unsung heroes singing
the song of joy - and life.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 12:05 AM UTC
Well.. if you must know!
our next door neighbour Mrs. Blue,
she and her husband are like rubber and glue,
So what does she do behind his **** back,
shhh..she dates her oompa loompa butler instead
Oh? tell me more Mrs. Snotnose!
Everyone knows I don't like to gossip!
I am not making this **** up right!
there's a rumour going on about that sneaky Mrs. White
(whisper)..She took some fat off her ****
to hide that ugly mole of a nut!
(giggle) Bejesus!, really?
Of course Mrs. Dullardmost!
Wait till you hear about Mrs. Brown,
she wore a fake necklace to the charity event at Hotel Crown!
but not everyone is elegant and classy like me,
the sweet natured that I am, you know I let people be
Oh Mrs. Snotnose, you are the epitomy of noesis!
*(I would have been on my way,
had it not been for all your delighting prey)*
how is dear Mrs. Red doing after that,
you know, that.. incident in her flat?
Oh dear, who doesn't know about that flat incident!
but you know I dont like to pry!
you couldn't take it out of me even if you would try!
I couldn'tell you what I saw through her window,
but um, well, if you really must know!
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 2:53 AM UTC
Shhh...can you hear me?
I'm hardly a pin
I'm hardly a mile away
Shhh...do you know the pain I'm in?
Look...can you see me?
I'm hiding behind shadowed eyes
And a mask of smiles
Look...will you look past the honest lies?
Taste...can you palate the bitterness?
Sharp and acrid accusations
Dancing on wagging tongues
Taste...will you swallow what is given?
Touch...can you feel my failing muscles?
Every fibre losing this very battle
A futile fight I must concede
Touch...will you save the pieces that crumble?
Read...can you make sense of my heart?
Pounding behind its bony cage
Pumping red into my desperate nib
Read...can you understand the ink staining my page?
Shhh...can you hear me?
I don't think you can
For I have ceased to speak
In the universe of man
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 11:34 AM UTC
.
Quiet! Shhh!
Can you hear it?
The animals are talking.
No, they are panicking.
Can you smell it?
The Forest is on fire.
My Forest is aflame!
I run, following nostrils singed with heat,
against the tide of the fleeing fauna.
Reaching the blaze I see....
eight of them.
My anger rises and erupts.
'STOP!' I bellow. They turn and draw swords.
My eyes narrow and a look of pure disdain unfolds.
I continue.
'I am Rook, Lord of the Forest Kingdom.
How dare you, enter my domain with no permission
and reek havoc on my Forest'.
A step is taken, toward me.
The eyes of a fighter glower, at me.
The point of a sword raises, threatening me.
I punish.
'For your transgressions and your destruction
you shall stand as stones, for eternity,
and as a warning to others'.
A scream pierces the air as a foot,
then another, compresses to rock.
The rest join the chorus, agony,
as each become statues,
twisted and contorted as
the Ancient Oaks they had destroyed.
My Oaks.
This is my Anger.
Would you care to see my Love?
© Pagan Paul (2018)
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 9:40 AM UTC
Did I notice little birds early in the morning,
Flying and hopping, chirping and tweeting..
Different families of birds chirping..
Brown, yellow chested, black with long tail and orange beak, house sparrow too,
Hens and cock's crow too...
All are busy talking
Do they ever listen too??
**
As a child I remember,
**
I Came back from school and twittered about my day,
Each evening my family sat around each other,
And all had to speak at once,
None of us there were listeners..
So what one could hear was lots of twitterati..
My mom just said hmm and hmm..
Never really heard my endless stories..
My brother was gem...
He always heard..
Don't know how much.. Though
Each sentence of mine ended
on
.. Is it not bro?... And yes said he always..!
From those carefree twittering to this day,
Life has moved so much..
**
Life always moves, one always grow,
From constant chatter to a deep silence.
And so
**
I wonder do birds ever become silent..
From Cuckoo to Wisdomed Owl
From experienced Eagle to the chirping house sparrow..
Do they too grow silent when old??
The early morning chirping,
Is it from young birds??
Are the old one just saying hmmm
Are they listening ?
Or are they talking?
Ever wondered what happens in birds world??
**
Though nothing much changed now in my house..
**
We still speak at the same time
We hardly have ear for other's stories..
But now we don't speak our heart out..
We are not those chirping type anymore,
We speak about our performance,
We speak about our achievement
We speak about the praises we receive..
We give our Wisdom,
We give our advice..
**
But we hardly speak about ourselves..
**
Sometimes, I still long to be that child again..
Twittering my tongue constantly..
Till my mother yells "Shhh! keep quiet"
And my brother says.. I am listening.. you say..!!!
**
Alas, life moves on, life always make one grow..
**
Sparkle in Wisdom
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 2:15 PM UTC
Whispers backstage
Peas and carrots, peas and carrots.
Shhh~
The show is about to begin.
Nov 2, 2012
Nov 2, 2012 at 2:37 AM UTC
I have been conditioned
To submit
To sacrifice
To shut up and take it.
From the very first advances
That were a little too aggressive
To the subtle denying of my wishes
When I said stop and you said “shhh…”
When I said no and you said “why not?”
When I said I can’t and you said “please”
When I put my hand up and you pushed it away
When you thought it was romantic
To push my limits
When you thought coercion was normal
And submission was expected.
When I stopped questioning
Why your needs were more important than mine.
When your mouth said “I respect you”
But your hands said you didn’t.
When your sudden coldness
Sent chills down my spine
When your charming side disappeared
And your true self mystified me.
When I thought coercion was normal.
When I started to feel like nothing.
When my body was used
But not satisfied
Touched
But not felt.
When your laugh in the dark
Made me feel like a victim
In a horror movie
Up until I finally decided
That you are the beginning and end
Of my objectification.
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 2:12 PM UTC
If today was for giant caterpillars,
giant crowds,
giant sounds,
and chaos, then this evening must be for
Blueberry fingertips
white wine in my glass
the music of an accordion
and a paperback novel.
Breeze in the window that waltzes with ribbons
and fills the bottles I’ve collected for the past six years.
(soft t shirt from the first time I fell asleep on his couch)
mmm, stop WORRYING.
It is no time at all for any of that.
Take the time to take the time to take your time.
shhh, brain.
hush, mouth.
Quiet Quiet Quiet
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 11:50 PM UTC
My finger tips is as cold as the heat of hell,
Inhaling and Exhaling chemicals that is running through my veins into my brain, i call it anchor, heavy as it is.
a secret i share… "i write when i'm choking.." Shhh.. , the word of silence and a verb of order to keep the darkest secrets.
welcome to wonderland.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
Shhh...
Close the shade to the windows
of your soul.
Listen... Listen... Listen some more
Do you hear it?
Silence. Yes. Lets listen for a bit more.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 9:04 PM UTC
Playful squeals escape from curled up lips.
She tugs
He pulls
Their clothing never lasts
Shhh...
Bodies speak
Tonight
Jan 13, 2011
Jan 13, 2011 at 8:48 PM UTC
She wears t-shirts of the Beatles
And she loves the Rolling Stones
She wakes up to David Bowie
And she dreams of the Ramones
She goes out to dance clubs nightly
Till her ear drums both get blown
But, she has a deep dark secret
That her friends will never know
At night when she is by herself
When the room is nice and dark
She slips beneath the covers
With Johann Sebastian Bach
She's a closet classic ******
And her name is Amber Clark
She just loves orchestral music
The rock and roll is just a lark
Her friends think something classical
Is something for your folks
They cannot play an instrument
They cannot read the notes
They think that chamber music is
What people play on boats
But she has a deep dark secret
She loves the stuff that Chopin wrote
At night when she is by herself
And her friends have gotten ******
She slips beneath the covers
And she listens to some Liszt
She listens to it many times
In case there's things she's missed
She's a closet classic ******
She has "Baroque" upon her wrist
She listens to the music
That her friends like to be cool
If she told them what she listens to
They'd laugh her out of school
So, when they go out clubbing
She will join them as a rule
But...ah that deep dark secret
This girl is no ones fool
She listens to Beethoven
And she knows each piece by heart
She knows where one bar ends
And another one will start
She can play most every instrument
And she knows most every part
She's a classic closet ******
But she still knows Boyce and Hart
She has cds in her library
And most sit there untouched
When her friends are gone they don't get played
She doesn't like them much
She would rather hear a symphony
By a composter who was Dutch
But there's that deep dark secret
And she won't use it a crutch
At night when she is warm in bed
She listens to Mozart
She needs a little Nacht Musique
To open up her heart
It's a piece that sets her mind a blaze
It hits her like a dart
She's a closet classic ******
And she keeps her worlds apart
By day she sings Bruce Springsteen
At night she listens to
Composers that her friends don't know
They're so old they're new
So she keeps her world a secret
For she knows what they would do
If they found she didn't know
Where were you in sixty two
But at night she is a ******
And she listens to Mozart
She needs that piece of music
To shoot an arrow through her heart
Eine Kleine Nachmusic
She conducts every part
She's our Closet Classic ******
shhh.....the song's about to start...
May 4, 2012
May 4, 2012 at 11:35 AM UTC
Shhh.
Silence.
The red robed supplicants
Are sequestered
Inside the Sistine.
They speak
In silent supplications
To the spirits
To pronounce a Pontiff.
The stewards are set
To send the smoke.
The smoke
That must be white.
Oct 11, 2025
Oct 11, 2025 at 8:42 AM UTC
To all the crushes.
Hey! How are you doing?
Shhh! don't answer.
I know you're good;
you always were.
That's why I fell for you
in the first place.
We don't know each other.
*You don't know me.
You don't have to.
trust me; fine, don't.
I owe you,
for all the butterfiles,
and the clicks in my knees.
I admit I am not romantic.
I am in fact dull as a dust,
but I have never found it hard,
to praise you, or compliment your existence.
Like your enchanting eyes
or as I like to call them
“The black hole phenomena”
as they could capture time,
never to let it go;
Or the radiant smile
fabricated by your perfectly carved teeth.
But I chose to not talk about it,
as it has been clichéd
by many great poets.
Remeber everytime you caught me staring
and I made it look like I was not?
Such a great actor I am,
you gotta admit this.
I always thought you had a slight clue.
Meh! It doesn't matter anymore.
And If you ever find about me
(I know you won't),
Just don't feel bad, or sad
(I know you won't).
Believe me,
If the knot in my throat had allowed,
I wouldn't be writing this. Instead,
I would be singing this in my crocodile voice,
as I then had not cared about anything, or anyone.
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 3:37 AM UTC
Shortly after his departure from the King's palace, the Little Prince arrived at another world.
There were two halves. One; a field of sunflowers and the second; a city full of high rise buildings.
He played around the field. Walking, Jumping, and Smelling the flowers. As he jumped around, he suddenly bumped into a gargantuan object towering over the field.
Thump!. "Ouch!", he said, as he had one hand on, and leaned against it. "Amazing! Why didn't I see it as I went around?". The little prince was astonished at the object, as his head looked up to see the what the object was.
"Hello!? Anyone up there?" He then hears a soft hum and light plucking, and with ecstatic might, he looks around the object for the source of the sounds.
"Hello? Anyone here?" A loud rumbling came, as if an earthquake started. The object started to move. The little prince looked up and saw that it was a man, a giant! The giant had a serious look, and with him, had a basket full of sunflowers..
"What are the Sunflowers for?"
The giant looked straight into the city and seemed to not hear the the little prince's question.
"What are the Sunflowers for!?"
The little prince shouted, because he was unanswered.
The giant then looks at the little prince, smiled and silently gestured him to follow.
Annoyed and curious, the Little Prince follows.
The giant brought the Little Prince to the city, where it's bustling streets were crowded; and despite the noise of footsteps, car horns, and people on their phones, there is this eerie feeling of silence. The giant then stands eagerly on the sidewalk with his basket of sunflowers. He holds a sunflower from the basket and silently tries to hand one to the passing pedestrians. He tries and tries, but not one flower was given. "Why is everyone looking down?", The Little Prince asked, "Is everyone like that?" The giant looks at at The Little Prince, puts his finger over his lips. "shhh" the giant whispered, as he goes back to handing out flowers. The Little Prince slowly gets annoyed and furious at all his unanswered questions. "Why don't you say anything!?" The Little Prince asked.
The giant then looks at the Little Prince, smiled, and leaned over to whisper.
"I might disturb them", the giant said.
The Little Prince was dumbfounded and confused at his response. "Adults are strange beings." he said, as he goes back to his ship and left for another planet.
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 8:57 AM UTC
As I close my eyes I can hear everything,
Not a song that birds sing,
The pain that I feel,
Wounds that are so long to heal.
I can feel my tears building up,
As high as the clouds above,
Slowing breaking.... slowly dying,
When will I survive the pain that i'm feeling?
My heart is crushing,
Shhh, they shouldn't hear a thing,
Maybe it will pass,
Please make it fast.
As I close my eyes,
I don't know if I will still see the sun rise.
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 8:13 PM UTC
SLAP! The graceful whale whacks her tale on the pristine water.
SLUMP! The pod of dolphins flow down in the water.
SLOOP-GLOOP! Breath bubbles soar up to the top of the water.
SHHH! Fishers cast their lines into the deep, clear, water.
SMIP-SMIP! The bats of the seahorses’ tails fling through the blue, blue water.
SLIP! The green, blue water flows through rocks and moss.
Mar 21, 2013
Mar 21, 2013 at 7:53 PM UTC
That can't be you !
It's not your name
Oh Ruby it is
I'm just the same
I use a different name to write
So don't tell anyone you know my name
So shhh and pretend and play the game
I write just to have some fun
Like Eva with her trumpet ***
So happy birthday for haloween
Save me some cake
And don't be mean
Or Eva may do a trump again!!
Oct 28, 2013
Oct 28, 2013 at 4:42 PM UTC
White Noise Static
Hot Haze Humid
Heat Lightning
condensation
compression
******
Peace comma
be still
wait
written
analog interference converts
2 digital Binaries
on shhh off
finished? Thank God
For Today,
close the book.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 8:02 AM UTC