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Pleasure, oh pleasure sitting in silence
Among the lime trees
The silence of delight
A perfect pardon
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
No hurry, no hurry
To go anywhere
While strangers offer smiles
Such perfect smiles
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Magic a specialisation
A practical specialisation
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
People of all kinds
Come streaming by
Pilot people
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
People passing with such power
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
All power is violence
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Pleasure, oh pleasure
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
No power is needed here
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Only truth and justice
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
No grievous ache remains a mystery
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
That purple mass made clear
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
An aroma here
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
An exuding stupefying aroma
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
That startles the sparrows
Identical sparrows
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Other silence is unequal
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
A quivering tenor of silence
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Gilded silence that flashes
Hazily across the vision
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Frenzied silence, irresistible silence
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Silence split into fragments
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Fragments that remain intact
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Silence that vanishes from sight
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
A severed silence
That remains infused
Golden and deceptive
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Like split up bandits
On the run
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Who race up two
Different boulevards
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
A day return silence
Always nervous and irritable
Sitting her in silence
Among the lime trees
A softening handsome
Lilac colored silence
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Regal in its resonance
Of romance
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
A silence of scarlet kerchiefs
Wears a tail coat
Has black raven hair
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Trying to catch spiders
Rats, little devils and dogs
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Day breaks
Inexorably in silence
Over the poet
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
The unstoppable
Silence of silence
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Such silence once started
Is unstoppable
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Such as the strange silence
One finds in snow
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Silence in a deserted shout
Sitting here in silence
Among the lime trees
Oh such silent noise
Such silent noise
Silent noise, silent
Sam Edwards Dec 2012
A dream once was had-- for two to be equal,
For this is the land of the free,
Free for you; free for me.

Often we hide our faces, as if we were the ones shamed.
Instead of standing up with another,
Repelling awful names.

Silence has a power, often more than sound.
Silence tunes your true voice,
Silence shakes the ground.

Silence is the foe, when words need to be said.
Silence is the killer.
Silence marks the dead.

Young students go to school, all shades of different skin.
We all threw rocks and names,
Wanting equality was their sin.

Did it matter? Their race was who they were.
A few rose voices,
Others’ silences were fists furled.

What does it matter, of what color their skin?
Here comes another battle.
Here it comes again.

Silence is the foe, when words need to be said.
Silence is the killer.
Silence marks the dead.

If one was gay, would he not be a being?
Should you let others mock?
Does silence stop the grieving?

No, the pain is still there, still loud.
The silence is louder.
Silence is all around.

The names, the hate, all can be repressed.
Silence is the fermata.
Silence has the stress.

Silence is the foe, when words need to be said.
Silence is the killer.
Silence marks the dead.

What is the solution, to this lack of sound?
Make it loud.

A word of hope, ringing upon new ears.
A word of sympathy,
Erasing all the fear.

A smile, a hug, a song, a dream,
All to be had,
All to be seen.

Shout against repression, against hate.
For we are all equal,
All the same final fate.

Silence is the foe, when words need to be said.
Silence is the killer.
Silence marks the dead.

Stand together, as one. Make the stand.
Stop silence, create music,
Ring it through the land.

With your words create harmony, create rhyme.
Create thirds and fifths,
Stronger than the flow of time.

Why must we stand alone? Aren’t we all brothers?
Did our ancestors fight?
Protecting our dear mother?

Hand in hand we’ll rise, voices speak as one.
Cruelness and evil gone,
Silence on the run.

Silence is the foe, when words need to be said.
Silence is the killer.
Silence marks the dead.

If we do not help each other, then who will assist?
Together we will rise,
Or fall together into the abyss.

Gay or straight, or be it black or white,
Whether you believe in god,
We’re all human, right?

We all feel, we all hear and see.
We can all make words,
We all breathe.

Silence is the foe, when words need to be said.
Silence is the killer.
Silence marks the dead.

So why must we be made different, called by our opinions or race?
Why must we be judged,
Simply by our face?

No more, I shout. No more the hate.
No more discrimination.
This is our fate.

No more injustice, social and the silence.
No more acts of anger.
No more senseless violence.

Let brothers protect brothers, let friends be friends,
For we are only human.
The same mortal end.

Let sisters love their sisters, let strangers be strangers no more.
For we are only human.
Our heart is our core.

Silence is the foe, when words need to be said.
Silence is the killer.
Silence marks the dead.

I will stand alone, if that is what it takes.
I will raise my voice,
Singing with quick haste.

I will be the difference, the smile to the weak.
I will help protect,
Helping shield the meek.

I will celebrate the differences, that make you and me.
I will turn the lock,
My voice will be the key.

Soon my friends will join, creating a choir of light,
Singing against the hate,
Harmonies strike the night.

Silence will not be my tool, silence is not my friend.
I will make my voice count.
I will make this hate end.

Silence is the foe, when words need to be said.
Silence is the killer.
Silence marks the dead.

Silence is what brings me to the keyboard.

Silence is the most forgiving thing, also the most condemning.

Never before hearing silence have I ever felt so insecure, never have I felt so free, so sure, never have I felt worse about myself as a person.

The silence has always given me everything I need and taken away anything that I’ve ever wanted, you see, my mind processes information faster than anything or anyone else. Not math or science, just thoughts, the series of movements never ends, thinking, rethinking, losing thoughts, remembering, wishing to forget. Along with my quick-silver mind, I can’t forget, anything, ever. Remember that time that you did something bad? Anything? I remember that every second, every minute, every hour. Every time I was wrong, every time I forgot something important or didn’t do something I was supposed to; I can’t just shrug it off, the thought of neglect or inferiority never leaves, it just gets harder and harder to not think about. Remember that time something bad happened to you? I was robbed once, I can see everything except the faces, I didn’t see them then and can’t see them now. The feeling of being robbed burns through me, fear, horror, sarcasm, lack of will to fight, lack of will to fight for an object, I cared so little about things then.

You may be reading out of curiosity, maybe out of boredom, maybe even out of true, pure, finalizing interest, because interest is always the enemy of silence. Have you ever sat in a room with a loved one and been completely silent? Seven out of ten times, I am, even if there’s noise. Before you ask, or even assume, we all assume things unfortunately, but before you do, I’m not deaf. I may be a bit blind, but you’d only think that would make sound stand out more. Only it doesn’t. My mind processes sounds just like everyone else, that’s one of the few things I have in common with anyone. Not saying I’m alone in this world, that would be conceited of me, but I certainly don’t feel similar to anyone, to anything, I did once, but that was before the silence overtook me.

When one talks about silence, I feel it only fair that sound should also be spoken of. Everything makes a sound, no two sounds are perfectly matched. Though we may hear two sounds that seem similar, no two things are exactly the same. Ever. Remember when you were young, how everything seemed so loud? The age of ten was the last time things were loud to me. Not to say that my ears have become any less sharp, that my senses have dulled, but that was when silence overtook the sound. The sounds are only a blurry memory to me now, maybe someday someone will show me the beauty in sound again, but for now I’m stuck in my own silent world.

I wish this were a two way communication, though things would still be silent at least I could read your lips, your words, your body language, those things never truly lie. In a way silence breeds the truth in all of us, in another it brings out the most horrible lies. I like to think it makes me more honest, but no one likes to think of themself as a weaver of lies and betrayer of friends. But we all know we have at least once and in the silence, not my silence, but your silence, you will feel, hear, and touch all these things as I do.

The silence makes me want to confess to the most horrible things I’ve done, to be modest about the most heroic, it makes me want to boast and brag, to lie, to do anything to just try and have someone stop the lack of sound. I’ve tried to scream, though my voice is just as silent to me as the outside world is. In a way, the silence is darkness, yet, the silence is light.

What would you do to end your silence?

Would you fight? ****? Would you be dishonest? Would you betray your friends and family, all for the sake of getting someone to say words that could honestly reach your ears?

I wouldn’t. Not anymore. And I certainly wouldn’t suggest it. I tried every bad thing I could think to get someone to talk, actually speak words to me. The English language is nothing but sounds now. Broken, failed sounds. Not that any other language is any better, they all just sound like silence, not even static, true static, which most people equate with ghosts or some other form of other-worldly something. That would certainly be a gift now, but I would never ask, could never, for something as unneeded and unwanted as static.

On the other hand, would you be a hero to end the silence? Would you fight countless monsters, not all of them necessarily realistic just in the hopes that someone you saved would say something? Would you put out fires? Defeat enemies? Could you even? I could. I tried at the very least. I was even brutally honest for the longest time. People don’t much appreciate that believe it or not. No one wants to be lied to and no one wants to know that they can’t follow all their dreams. Unfortunately for everyone, myself included, we’re all lied to, and we most certainly can’t follow most of our dreams.

The silence makes sure that I remember this. Three seconds from now I won’t care to try and talk to anyone. I’ll let this communiqué fall from my lips and try my hardest to forget that I ever wrote it. But we all know that won’t work. The silence that helps me sleep is also the silence that keeps me awake. How do I sleep? I wonder that just as I wonder how to rid myself of a silence like this. The short answer is that I don’t. The long answer is more complicated than I’d like to explain.

But the Silence, I feel I should treat it like its own being now, its own perfectly horrible, evil, monstrosity of a heroic being; the Silence doesn’t forgive, much like me it doesn’t forget, the only difference between the Silence’s memory and my own is that my mind screams at me, screams in the Silence that permeates around me. I never remember how hard or horrible my mind thinks before I sleep, all I see is the images that make up my dreams, rarely do I have nightmares, but it wouldn’t matter even if I didn’t dream, Silence fills my mind, my heart, my soul.

Do you remember the first time you were ever discouraged from anything? That first time you went to speak and realized you couldn’t so instead you cried? That is the exact feeling that I feel in the Silence. Knowing that no matter how hard I scream that my voice is utterly and completely incomprehensible. What would you do in my position? For that matter, what would I do in my situation? Some have told me all I need is a modicum of patience, others have told me that I never should wait and should only take action. Neither plan has ever worked for me.

Ever waited for time to pass while looking at a clock? That’s my entire life. Every moment seeming more Silent than the last despite that things never seem to change. Sure I’ve changed locations, but I’ve changed locations before and nothing is ever any different. Would you like to see inside my mind? That would probably help you speak to me, help me hear your words. But then again, maybe the Silence would only overtake you as well. For the sake of an attempt I have never tried, I’ll do it, free-thought writing, granted it will be much slower than I think. Just read it as fast as you can while understanding, but remember, don’t speak, don’t hear anything but the Silence in your mind,

Empty, but not. Women, memories of every one I ever met. Betrayal, both by me, and from me. A day where the sun doesn’t rise, but only falls again. Hoping this will be poetic. A name, not mine, not yet. Falling stars that bring me silent wishes. Hoping these words will speak to someone who isn’t me. Laughter, the sweet sound, I think that’s what it is. Complete Silence. Time elapsed, two seconds.

Not everything is simple and clear, many thoughts are more focused, like holding a magnifying glass backward, I squint my eyes and can see the world as it is, but with them open all I see is blur, Silent blur that reminds me that in a way I am all alone and in another that the entire world is watching me with narrow, scrutinizing eyes.
I'm sorry to say that this one is massive, no rhyme scheme like my others, more like a memoir over a poem, but in its own way I think it has managed to be the most poetic thing I've ever typed.
Bijoylakshmi Das Feb 2020
(Bijoylakshmi Das, 9th February 2020)
Silence in the air
Silence all around,
I long to merge deep
In the depth of Silence ' play ground. Silence is Harmony
Silence is Suoreme' s breath,
To regain our felicity fugitive
In our mortal breast -
We dive into Silence' depth.
The One Exprrssion of the unique Sublime -
Amazingly awe-inspiring
Utterly captivating!!!
Silence is the Art
Which makes others live
A joyful living united with the Infinite:
Selfless and all-forgiving!
Silence is the silent throb of the heart
Of the One Highest Breath,
The Consciousness sublime.
Silence is smile
On the face of the One Adorable Being.
Silence is the lone traveller
On the vast expanse of Time,
Silence is the reveller of Joy
Of the never-ending rhyme -
Silence is vast
Silence is Beauty -
Of the all - transcending Act!
Silence is Immanence
Of Creation's inherent Harmony.
Silence is the Mystic touch
Of the Absolute all-surpassing!
The celestial dwelling
For every loving heart,
Love's resplendent splendour
In life's journey vast!
Silence is perfection
That is never-ending;
The footprints from above
Solace descending!
The rare reminiscences
Of the One Eternal Inhabitant,
The all-shaping Flame
Of the Mystic Fire
Ever vibrant
Silence is Light
That lies deep within -
Each living and non-living
In their inertial sleeping!
Silence is awakening
From the most senseless stupor,
Silence is the patron -
For earthly life
Solemnly condescending!
Silence is Humility of the highest order,
Silence is Dignity always to remember,
The Beauty and Mirth that in life we seek for
To rise above the mundane self and its self- made disaster.
Silence is Blessedness' Grace
For every grieving soul;
Silence is Symphony
Of the ageless yore.
Silence is the sole companion
Of Spirit's magnificent melancholy,
Silence is Union with the Beloved in ecstasy.
Silence is Poetry
Of our rhythmic thoughts,
Silence is manifestation
Of our formless forms.
Silence sits alone in its Kingdom vast,
Why not make it your Soulmate
Oh Man! In your endless journey of the mortal birth?
(Bijoylakshmi Das)
Emily B Mar 2016
Edgar Lee Masters. 1869–
I HAVE known the silence of the stars and of the sea,  
And the silence of the city when it pauses,  
And the silence of a man and a maid,  
And the silence for which music alone finds the word,  
And the silence of the woods before the winds of spring begin,          
And the silence of the sick  
When their eyes roam about the room.  
And I ask: For the depths  
Of what use is language?  
A beast of the field moans a few times  
When death takes its young.  
And we are voiceless in the presence of realities—  
We cannot speak.  
A curious boy asks an old soldier  
Sitting in front of the grocery store,  
"How did you lose your leg?"  
And the old soldier is struck with silence,  
Or his mind flies away  
Because he cannot concentrate it on Gettysburg.  
It comes back jocosely  
And he says, "A bear bit it off."  
And the boy wonders, while the old soldier  
Dumbly, feebly lives over  
The flashes of guns, the thunder of cannon,  
The shrieks of the slain,  
And himself lying on the ground,  
And the hospital surgeons, the knives,  
And the long days in bed.  
But if he could describe it all  
He would be an artist.  
But if he were an artist there would he deeper wounds  
Which he could not describe.  
There is the silence of a great hatred,  
And the silence of a great love,  
And the silence of a deep peace of mind,  
And the silence of an embittered friendship,  
There is the silence of a spiritual crisis,  
Through which your soul, exquisitely tortured,  
Comes with visions not to be uttered  
Into a realm of higher life.  
And the silence of the gods who understand each other without speech,  
There is the silence of defeat.  
There is the silence of those unjustly punished;  
And the silence of the dying whose hand  
Suddenly grips yours.  
There is the silence between father and son,  
When the father cannot explain his life,  
Even though he be misunderstood for it.  
There is the silence that comes between husband and wife.  
There is the silence of those who have failed;  
And the vast silence that covers  
Broken nations and vanquished leaders.  
There is the silence of Lincoln,  
Thinking of the poverty of his youth.  
And the silence of Napoleon  
After Waterloo.  
And the silence of Jeanne d'Arc  
Saying amid the flames, "Blesséd Jesus"—  
Revealing in two words all sorrow, all hope.  
And there is the silence of age,  
Too full of wisdom for the tongue to utter it  
In words intelligible to those who have not lived  
The great range of life.  
And there is the silence of the dead.  
If we who are in life cannot speak  
Of profound experiences,  
Why do you marvel that the dead  
Do not tell you of death?  
Their silence shall be interpreted  
As we approach them.
M Sep 2015
There's silence in the room
There's silence in the house
There's silence in the closet
There's silence in the mouse

There's silence on the broom,
in the room,
in the house,
where the closet holds
the silence in the mouse.

There's silence in the books,
in the nooks
in the room,
in the house,
where the closet holds
the silence in the mouse.

There's silence in the photos,
in the rooms,
in the house,
where the closet holds
the silence in the mouse.

There's silence in the room
where the music used to play.
and the kids who slept inside it,
would be gone all day.
there's silence in the room
in the house
where the closet holds,
the silence in the mouse.

There's silence in the house,
where the family would walk,
and where the family,
would always want to talk.
the silence in the house
where the closet holds,
the silence in the mouse.

There's silence in the closet
where the clothes are there to sit,
and wait for someone to put them on
and have a deal of wit.
there's silence where the closet holds,
the silence in the mouse.

There's silence in the mouse,
who scurries through the walls,
and eats all the crumbs,
but no one sees at all,
the silence in the mouse.

There's silence in room,
where the music used to play,
there's silence in the house,
where it would be empty
all the day,
there's silence in the closet,
where the clothes all like to keep,
there's silence in the mouse,
who doesn't dare make a peep.

There's silence in the room,
in the house,
where the closet holds,
the silence in the mouse.
Zephyr Limns May 2020
Will you listen me,
if I speak to you in silence about silence ?

Will you talk to me in silence
when words no longer wake in my mind ?

Will you hear the silence of your heart
which speaks about me to you
or the silence of my heart which sings
the rapsody of our togetherness ?

Will you be the silence I seek in my silence ?
Or Will you be the silence, which silence me silently ?

I chose to sing about me in silence,
for in silence I dont feel any barrier.
But when I chose to read you in silence,
the silence you did offer was not heart warming.

I sit with unquiet mountains
to realize my fondness towards it.
I run with rivers to sense my spirit running before me.
I play with wind to hear the lyrics of my heart.
I lean on trees to listen its stories.

The pleasure I seek in silence
and the agony, you sprayed to
embrace the silence aren't the same.

I then pray with the moon to silent those silences
that wakes in my mind to silence me.

Beloved will you believe me,
if I say, not all silences are same ?

Some silence could break silence
Some silence could heal silence.
And some silence can build silence.

will you buy my words if I say,
not all silence can heal and
not all silence can hurt ?

Also, will you let me to listen
your silence, this time
to handle your heart ?

Will you, my love ?
Clare Sep 2020
His awesome silence
Allays the soul

His beautiful silence
Blesses our spirit

His calm silence
Comforts our heart

His deafening silence
Dramatises His presence

His eloquent silence
Eludes all words

His frequent silence
Finalizes all questions

His glorious presence
Gratifies the senses

His Holy silence
Hushes our being

His incredible silence
Illuminates our minds

His judicious silence
Judges all matters

His kingly silence
Kindles a flame

His long silence
Lingers all night

His mysterious silence
Mystifies His aura

His necessary silence
Negates all doubts

His outstanding silence
Outdoes our interference

His peaceful silence
Precedes all victories

His quick silence
Questions our motives

His royal silence
Restores the poor

His sudden silence
Surprises the proud

His tangible silence
Touches the searching

His unique silence
Unravels all misconceptions

His voiceless silence
Visits the hasty

His wonderful silence
Washes all fears

His X-ray silence
X-irradiates our consciences

His yuletide silence
Yields to reflection

His zesty silence
Zooms into prosperity
LDuler Mar 2013
Why people feel the need or desire to
Listen to the radio
Or surround themselves with machines that whir and beep
Or white noise to fall asleep
Or go to concerts
Is beyond me
I don't understand why
People want noise all the time
They're committing a terrible crime!
They mutilate silence
Tarnish delicate laconism
And mangle quiet
Machines everywhere!
Machines and devices, noise and distraction from the essence of life
Tooting, blaring, screeching, whistling, crashing
Honking, booming cracking, grinding, and trilling!
We happily bask in this cacophony

So much noise that we tend to forget that
How truly precious real silence is-
A gold nugget in a long, tumultuous river.
Yet we don't want any of it, not even a sliver
Silence is that which comes nearest to expressing the ineffable
It's so pure and so true, so delectable
Silence is a true friend who never betrays
Whatever has happened to saying it all with a simple gaze?
Words are by no means proof of wisdom
Silence isn't ignorance or dullness of mind
Silence is refined
Silence is
A pause between birdsongs
The mournful song of lonely hearts
The sigh of a tree
The shift of the clouds
The obscure and perishing rhythm of forgotten thoughts
The throb of the summer sun
The timid streaming of tears down a child's cheek
The fall of a snowflake
The pulse of the veins on a frail white wrist
And a kiss between whispered promises

Babble is empty
And words, like wire
May seem solid
Yet they can be twisted to resemble anything-
Weak promises, false prayers, delusive prophecies
And can easily be broken, if one distorts them enough.

Silence is more eloquent than phrases
It is not nothing
It has a form, dimension, substance
A texture and quality of its own
So many people associate it with mystery, privacy and isolation
When really it reveals it all
Silence can be jealous; rough and small
It can be peaceful; blue and hazy
It can be tumultuous; confused and crazy
Silence can be loving; soft and surrounding
Or it can be spiteful; violent and pounding
Silence can chaste; reserved and shy
Or it can sensual, with a voluptuous sigh
Silence can be puzzled; blurry and nauseous
It can be disgusted; halting and cautious
Silence can be grieving; a falling apart
It can be horribly heavy; the weighing of unspoken secrets on a fragile heart
Silence can be anything
Agitated, insecure, submissive or authoritative
Giddy or gloomy, vicious or respectful
Silence contains it all
Every word, every language,
All the knowledge, all the memories, all the emotions
If you've ever watched a sunrise, or been in love, or spent a night home alone, or sat in grieving silence as someone held your hand
Then you know this

The silly young, the brash and impatient ones, always break the silence
With gossip and music and profanity and small talk
They always giggle, interrupt, argue and squawk
Constant conversations, words, motions, defense, offense, back and forth
Yet those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking
Because to love and be quiet is enough
To hold hands and not say a word is enough
Silence is the gift of the world that we've pushed aside
A precious gift wrapped in white that we've rudely denied
Silence is the highest form of thought
And it is by slowly developing this mute contemplation in us that we will,
Step by step,
With reflections, speculations, and musing
Be able to reach what is true about ourselves.
When we are quiet and timid
We sit silently and watch the world around us
We see things, we read things, we hear things that others don't, we keep quiet about them, and we understand.

I don't understand why people fear the hush
Perhaps people are afraid to surrender to the clear ****** of it
Maybe all these fools think that to keep quiet is to erase yourself
Maybe they associate silence with loss of life
Perhaps some of them know that listening to the silence can be painful
That it can reveal the pain of the world
So they cower and shy away from it

Yet look at what I've done
I'm just like the rest of them, aren't I?
I wrote and wrote, yet what do all these words mean?
How pretentious of me to think I could be one to put silence into words
Ode to Silence by Geneviève Pardoe Macchiarella is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
Ete Dec 2011
One is the language of words and the other is the language of silence.

Very few people i can talk to with the language of silence.

Still, with the language of silence i can talk to the whole universe.
With the language of silence i can talk with the plants, the animals, the stars, the moon, the birds.
Yet there are very few humans whom i can talk to with silence.

To talk to another human being i use words.
Words are a kind of art.
They are a creation made by humans.
A creation consisting of a bunch of symbols in order for us to point things out. We want to point out a car, we say "look, thats a car". We want to point out a flower, we say "look, there is a flower". Word is the human communication that we have created so that we can point things out and so that we can function in the world, the outside world.

But silence is a more deeper language.

With silence you penetrate and connect with the being in deeper levels. It consists more of feelings. It is a deeper communication that silence brings. Words can only point to that which is. They can not actually give you, explain to you, express to you, reveal to you, in total truth, what is. Silence can do this.

The evolution of consciousness is introducing this language to humanity.

Humanity knew the langugue of silence but humanity got really mixed up and really got puzzled with words, in words, in the laguage of words, in the language of the mind. And my feeling is that this confusion and this lost that humanity got itself into, for a period of time, was neccesary in order for us to come back home.
Now the consciousness is moving with its flow.

It is so amazing to see how much humanity lost touch with its nature.

I know the language of silence because i have spended much time in silence. And not just that outside of me things are totally silent but inside of me also. Inside of me there exists a silence that i have really gonne deep within because ever since i was born into this body that goes by the name Esteban, i have felt that silence within me, and at a certain point in life, i started to get confused. But there was always this silence within me that was above and louder than everything else.

Outside of me there exists the world that we see today and humanity is just so lost and confused in words that i was losing myself too. Because the whole humanity is lost and i am here walking around the world, notecing that people dont know this language of silence. And it is only humanity that lost touch with it. And now how to connect everyone else with their nature? how to communicate this silence to others?

Everybody has to come back to themselves, everybody has to stop the outside world for a bit and spend some time with themselves in silence. Just in peace.

It seems like humans are on auto-pilot.

We come here into existence, into the world, and from the moment of birth and up, is like we are just following society, we are just following what people tell us, what our parents tell us. We just go on that track that they give us and why are we not following our hearts? why are we not doing what we want to do? we are so afraid to explore. We are so afraid to discover truth for ourselves and we are just relying on the information that is allready here. We go on believing everything we hear, everything that is said to us. And whats up with the purpose of life? Whats up with the movement of the universe?

The humans are trying to have control over everything .

The humans are trying to make life how they want it to be. The governments and the religions have done this for so long and have used lies to prevail. They keep saying, "this is what you have to do, this is what you have to become, you have to struggle, you have to fight, compete" and then they say "this is what will happen if you dont follow, this is the reward and this is the punishment". And we grow so much fear that we follow. It is so sad and silly.

And here i am seeing that this is all just a wonderful playground.

That the planet Earth is a playground for the consciousness to explore, to discover, to evolve, and to play and have fun, and to create.

To create beauty on planet Earth.
And yet we have and are still creating such ugly things.

Nuclear weapons and wars? Private territories and divisions of race? Polluting and destroying nature?

Each one of us has to become a leader of ones self.

How to give you the experience of silence?
It can not be done.

You have to experience it yourself.

You have to experience silence because when you experience silence you will know things without a doubt.

You will know the truth about everything.

And so you have to become a master of yourself to get to that point in which there is not a single doubt about any-thing.

You know it all.

I speak the language of words, yes to communicate with other humans, and to get things done, create things, have fun. But i mostly use the language of words to try and talk about the language of silence. To try and point to the language of silence.

And i encourage people to practice silence, to practice meditation.

To explore and study themselves as deeply as possible.

The university will not reveal to you the universe.

Life and self-study will!
Silence, quietness, numbness.
A rage that feels like nothingness.
A scream when all is mute, a muteness.
A looseness of all senses.
An emotion that has no motion.
And cry, cry, my heart--but even the moon shall not listen;
Today there is poetry, but no love and no great lesson.

All was numb when you stepped away from me;
Soon as you drove and faded away like thunder;
Like a beauty that no kind hearts could see.
There was, to the earth, more than rain and water;
There were feelings that were not felt;
There were hands that were too cold.
And no-one, but He, could take hold of our fate;
A darling story that was left told and untold.
All was numb like it is today, unspoken and bare;
This dribbling water feels burly to my hair;
But with drops as tasty as charcoal salt;
A tearful slide that sets alight my heart.
I shall leave your shadow now, in and between,
My greasy hearts that are now to you unseen.
Why do you hate, and why do you hate me?
We hate each other like lilies and daffodils;
With fright and pain and weariness none can see;
With frost and ice and hatred one cannot heal.
And a winter, more silent than ours, is coming;
While we are still shrouded by our feud, madness and betrayal;
With no sing along, no phrase, nor verbs as mortal beings;
We are ****** by our cohorts, in our own worldly upheaval.
And I condemn, condemn your opaque shadow;
Toss them away from me, to the vanishing window.
I felt the world was tumbling and falling yesterday;
Vanished cries and sorrows are real to me today.

And who said you would be buried in my hair;
With your visage stumbled across my face;
For who are you, so that I ought to care;
Who are you, who hath so praised another lass.
You who cannot taste mirth and what love is;
You who bask in tears and curse a daydream's bliss.
You better forget today's and tomorrow's breath;
You should dream there, that now life too is death.
You who killed my sanity, and took my mortal love;
You who burnt me before, and left with a cheeky laugh;
And I, my soul once so steadfast as thine was;
I, in whose words thou once swam and slept fast;
Thou, who rode away by the timid morning;
Thou, who did not even hear my voice crying.
The moving waters, my tears, at their priestlike task;
Drying and dying not until the coming of dusk;
Soaking my lungs and veins and spines all wet;
A scrap of wound I knew I'd never forget.

Lies come in at the mouth and love in at the eye;
Let's now confess the truth before we all shall die;
You, then in her splendour made triple affairs;
And in her triumph kissed her hair;
And within my sight cupped her cheeks;
Saying her skin was white, sweet, and sleek.
She was a majestic sight, like the moon, to thee;
She was pretty and there was only her then, not me.

Summer was coming, summer was coming;
All birds were singing, all trees were growing;
I watered every day my fat cucumbers;
I watched them at night, beneath rolling thunders;
I ate strawberries at dawn and on afternoons;
I counted the days, that flew about too soon.
I played the piano and enjoyed my flawless old music;
It relaxed my mind every day of the week.
But you were with her then, all day and night;
What she said to you indeed, was always right.

You kissed her again and put her to rest;
You wanted her to have the very best;
You destroyed me in life and in poetry;
You tore me like a ghost no-one want'd to see.

And all was left was as sound as silence;
A silence that want'd me, and want'd to listen.
Silence, silence, silence, such silence was my past friend;
A silence that hunts and prowls over me all over again;
Ah, but my gratitude is adequate, to this darling silence;
A silence so friendly that none who hears shall mourn;
A silence so sublime, more than the silence itself--nor its sound;
A silence that makes a gone and swirls me round and round.
Ah, a lunatic poesy, a silence is--that only a poet could see;
A poet too mystical that ordinary beauties neglect.
But poetry, poetry, is there always for me,
With all its charm and sheer beauty and respect;
That all I want by poetry is eyes that can see;
Lungs that can breathe, and ears that can hear;
For poetry sees what nobody can bear to see;
Amends every broken heart, calms those who fear.

Ah, and though t'is silence is the only friend I have;
Clouds are awake and God is not deaf;
And smile, smile again, dear reader, like my darling rain;
Who is tired not of falling, jumping and ******* and making friends.

And all was left was as sound as silence;
A silence that prays, a silence that heals.
A silence that makes us all so real;
A silence that can feel, or make us feel.
Ah, silence, in such a world where the bravest canst not see;
Thou art there still, waitin' for th' chance again, t' be with me.
Jay Jul 2013
Silence is Golden
Silence is Deadly
Silence is Loud
Making you feel heavy
Silence will not protect you
Because silence withholds truth
Silence is Strength
Silence is Grace
Silence is Powerful
Silence is Pure
Silence sent me running straight out of that door
Silence is me
Silence is you
Silence is courage in the eyes of doom
Silence is pain
Silence is shame
Silence is worthless
In the eyes of the lame
Silence is gripping
Like *******
But you're slipping
Silence is a cliff
You happen to be falling
Silence is the rope
I happen to be holding
Silence is the knife
That decides whether or not you die

And darling,                                              
Silence is Golden
Akinola Ajani Nov 2015
Is there a song so sacred to the world?
A voice washed in waves of tranquility
Without words yet special in verse and rhyme
Hidden in nature’s surreal, powerful chorus
Cascading in sonorous whispers from an unknown realm
Bards and poets revere its ethereal beauty
And bow in awe of its eternal magic
A tongue unknown to those upon the earth
An imposing aura, an eerie tone
A signal, a symbol of special moments
Eternal song, we named it silence
Humans yearn to worship in silence
Learn to say prayers in silence
Say worship this silence
Spirits find voice in silence
The graveyard is silent
Do we make love in silence?
Or find love in silence
Shadows of heaven, oceans of silence
There’s danger in silence
Jungles bear witness, the hunted remember
There’s reward in silence
Hunters, predators, masters of silence
The night too loves silence
Brothers in spirit, lovers forever
Entwined by nature’s solemn existence
Is silence not darkness?
If we can only hear but do not understand
Unworthy humans beneath the sacred
There’s a reason for silence
Or there’s one behind it
Silence the reason, follow the rhythm
Our hearts beat in silence
Souls speak in silence
Can we listen to silence?
And savor the glory, breathe in the splendor
Immortal silence!
Worship this ambience
Bow down in reverence
To the song before time
Deeper than music, higher than poetry
I call it silence
isabella Jul 2020
My greatest enemy,
Silence. My most wonderful dream,

Silence that hangs like a thread,
Silky, soft, bound to break.

Silence that wraps around you,
A warm blanket of comforting.

Silence that wakes you,
Awash in that moonlight glow.

Silence that defines you,
Fiber, soul, essence, and heart.

Silence that you wish would just,
Stop being so deafening.

Silence that suffocates,
Then lets you breathe.

Silence that opens a window,
More than your eyes ever could.

Silence that makes me afraid,
Lifts you up on angel-like wings.

Silence that is too short, too long,
Too silence-y.

Silence, that doesn't sound like a word,
Until you hear it.

Silence that sits there,
Waiting, wondering, thinking.

Silence in the darkness,
The most comfortable moments,
And the scariest.

I've never learned how to be silent,
In the proper way,
Until I met you.

You, who uses silence,
You, who knows silence,
You, who is silence.

I can't say I know you,
But I know silence,
Around you,
Lying together,
Arms tangled.
Smiling in
Despina Jan 8
Speaking silence/
dead silence/
broken silence/
my silence/
singing silence/
bleeding silence/
lost silence/
Silence the mother tongue/
the primordial silence/

Her eyes flash, her words lead, her face flashed with life.
But sometimes she is taken over by something that have no lasting sound.
Sometimes there are pressures,
that is, that is poison.
Restlessness and impatience.

My censoring ego wishes to forget, it ever saw the room/ever saw the corpses.
I have been trying all I know.
I shine light so I can see the shadows.
But the shadows grow even darker.
And bones, those represent that which can never be destroyed.

Silence is mystery
not telling or not knowing?

Silence involves resistance, tension and opposition.
Silence is a right            
a strategic exercise of power, or a resistance to it/
The protest is the first art,
is the twin sister of its twin sister dance.

Silence is a common experience.
a closed door carefully locked
a communicative act in a threatening situation.

silence is
a haven

enjoy it
build it
insulate it
secure it
yearn for it
fall asleep with it
fear it
abolish it
exist for it
confront it

silence is.

silence is not
absence or void/
is not
absence of speech

silence is
a part of it.

silence is a problem.
Silence is not.

Silence is gold
or so I was told when I was young

Silence equals death
Silence is the ocean of the unsaid
the unspeakable
the repressed
the erased
the unheard
a sea of unspoken words

But if you have seen time
accelerate or fold
in a way that distorts the spatial-temporal order altogether,
then well that is a start.
Someone Feb 2018
The sound of silence:

silence has the emotion of sound
silence is the whitness of the cloud
silence has the voice of the rain
silence is  the baackbone of pain

silence is the grace within the art
silence is like whistle in the dark
silence embraces your fear
silence deepens your tear
silence echoes your mind
silence straightens the line

silence surrounds the world
silence connects with love
silence is the strength during the fear
silence is the fear behind the strenth
silence is like death to the life
silence is like a life to the dead
-elixir- May 2020
Silence is grim.
Silence is liberating.
Silence is peace.
Silence is war.
Silence is safe.
Silence is dangerous.
Silence is love.
SIlence the answer to some.
Silence dooms.
Silence is rebirth.
Silence is emotion.
Silence is torture.
Silence to lead.
Silence to learn.
Silence for the ignorant.
Silence is unlimited.
                so what's your silence about?
Silence is the language for those who wish to understand and portray a plethora of things in their minds
Bijoylakshmi Das Jan 2020
(Bijoylakshmi Das)
Silence is the Best
Silence is sublime
Silence is Vast;
Silence is all-transcending -
Beyond mortal acts.
It too is profound,
Makes us spell-bound,
Even though unexpressed
Reveals the Supreme Blessed!
It is the One unique existence
In its inane solitude -
Sends message of greater depth,
From Soul even when Being is asleep
Beyond Space and Time,
Cause and Effect ;
Wins the heart of Godhead
In her sweet soft golden glance! !
Silence is the celestial bridge
Joins the amazing heights
To Earth's forsaken soil,
And her attempted flights,
To reach the Unknown height
Of the underlying Godhead.
All vain desires and toil of the Brown
Meet Decadence -
Along with Ego's sky-touching crown
Man's arrogance and ambitions
And his derision of self-asserted pride,
To make Nature serve to his indomitable will,
And insatiable greed!

It never succeeds!
Inner silence is lost
As it served as the Golden Bridge
To meet the Supreme Will!
Which in each moment sees,
Our every act even if we hide;
His eternal Gaze -
Writes on Silence's page.
We humans create chaos -
Everywhere around us
To devastate the inner harmony.
Blind and deaf to mankind!
We have lost silence of our inmost mind!!!
Silence communicates the best,
Transfigures the language of the Lord,
In Nature's heiroglyphics
And Her innumerable ways.
Like when Dawn descends upon Earth
Heralding the joyful birth -
Of a vernal Creation
Awaiting to meet Humanity in the higher illumination!
The Soul's awakening -
Where only Silence reigns.
Dialect fails,
Speech loses semblance
Silence deciphers Creation:s unending rhyme.
Repeats in ceaseless Harmony!

We are born in Silence,
And to that Sole-existent Silence -
All have to go
By our Ego's transcendence!
Life's journey brief,
Ends in silence deep.
In Silence we must live,
And to it we must give -
Our listening ears in Knowledge's
Revelatory ascent!
We must make our life the greatest success -
In Supreme's Blissful Art!
(Bijoylakshmi Das, Anand Utsav Ashram,
Haridwar. 31.05.2019)
Alec Jul 2017
... silence
... silence
... silence
... silence
Are you dead?
... silence
... silence
Are you ignoring me?
... silence
Okay, I'll leave you alone
... silence
... silence
... silence
... silence
... silence
Are you okay?
... silence
I'll leave you alone, sorry
... silence
... silence
... silence
Do I bother you?
No, you're fine, it's not you I swear.
... silence
... silence"
I know, I know
I shouldn't let this hurt me so.
I should believe you
I shouldn't think what you say is untrue.
It's not all about me
But this happens so often it's hard not to see.
Are we really friends?
Is this coming to an end?
Are you going to leave me too?
... Like all of them.
Was I too clingy?
Should I have just let you be?
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to bother you.
I just didn't want to lose you too.
Ah, I suppose its my own fault.
I shouldn't have opened my vault.
I shouldn't have told you all about me and who I am
It must've been as boring as watching falling sand.
I'm sorry that I thought-
What did I think?
Did I honestly think you cared?
I opened up to you, even though I was scared.
What an idiotic move
That's like being in broad daylight as I steal the Mona Lisa from the Louvre.
I never meant to bother you
I didn't mean to stick to you like glue.
Don't worry, I'll leave
But you have to promise to go too. Don't tease.
Let's just leave each other be.
Amrita Walia Feb 2014
Silence speaks
Silence screams
Silence talks in a language only silence understands
Silence means a hundred things
Silence expresses more than a hundred loud words
Silence cuts sharper than the sharpest sword
Twisted silence
Serene silence
Sickening silence
Beautiful silence
Stretching silence
Defining Silence
**Silence I fear.
Silence I long.
Classy J Dec 2014
through the silence of the dawn of light,
through the silence of the sun set at night,
through the silence all through the halls,
through the silence befalls peace to settle temporary brawls,
silence everywhere, quieting all
through the silence comes peace of mind,
through the silence we rest as one of mankind,
through the silence comes great inventions,
through the silence we release past tensions,
silence everywhere, quieting all
through the silence leaves not one voice to be heard,
through the silence blurred between the lines of the absolutely absurd,
through the silence one's thoughts might go wild,
through the silence past deviance's can be reconciled,
silence everywhere, quieting all
Ann M Johnson Sep 2015
In the silence I hear him calling
   He's calling me
   In the silence I hear him singing a sweet melody
   through the wind and the rustling of the trees
   In the silence I sense his presence
   In the silence I reach for him
   In the silence I confess to him
   In the silence I cry out to him
   I know he comforts me  
   In the silence he heals me
   In the silence I have peace within

   In the silence I envision him dying
    He died for me and you
   In the silence I know he is living
   He is living for you and me
   In the silence I know he loves me
   In the silence I know that I want to live for him
   Jesus is there in the silence
   He's calling to all of us in the silence
I  found this in an old folder that I wrote about 27 years ago and thought I would share it for the first time now.
Badshah Khan Feb 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust) – 25

BismillahIr RahmanIr Raheem

Silence, Silence, Silence…..

Eternal silence accurately represents my eternal solitude.

Eternal silence is precisely my deepening shadow.

Eternal silence is enough for my gently Heart beats.

Eternal silence is morally my Heartily cheer.

Eternal silence is wisely to tell the truth about my Meditate.

Silence, get rid our desired distance.

Silence, gently wipe my sad tears.

Mostly I, visit in my ominous Silence.

My loyal heart beats fiercely, and halt instantly in my breathless silence.

Divine creator! Carefully constructed the eternal universe, In Silence

Whatever he naturally created, everything will be precisely end in eternal silence…

Silence, Silence, Silence…..

Allah Khair….. Khairul Rabul Alameen Yah Arrahmanur Yah Raheem

Ummah Thurab – Badshah Khan.
©UT-BK 2019
Rubayiat Al Thurab (Verses of the Dust)
Ricknight Oct 2014
Silence is golden,
And I am breaking the barriers,
Silence in golden,
And I am coming with the chariots,
Silence is woven,
And I am untying the labyrinth,
Silence is golden
Call me a maverick,
Silence is broken
And I am bleeding the floor,
Silence is golden,
I am like a fly knocking the door,
Silence is olden
I am rewriting the history,
Silence is golden,
I am unfolding a mystery,
Silence is interwoven
The message is subliminal,
Silence is golden,
But keep your words minimal,
Silence is golden
Every night I turn a criminal,
Silence is golden,
Every verse is pivotal,
Silence is golden,
For those willing to prey,
Silence is golden,
Only for those who don't know what to say
Silence so deep,
I could drown,
Silence so hard,
I could hear the pin drop,
A Silence of many parts,
The silence inside the broken hearts,
The silence of things forgotten to start,
Silence for the things that fell apart,
Silence in the still of the morning,
The silence of music never played,
The silence of the weeping hearts that always stays the same,
The silence that was with a soldier coming home,
A silence that he brought within his lost and broken soul,
A silence so deep that we are all within its hold,
A silence that holds us even if where growing old,
The silence of many parts that lives inside my soul.
Painful way

Vernarth describes in parasychological regression:
Silence shook over them, like the one that massacred them from the “oblivion - oblivion” from the Limassol to Jaffa section. Everyone believed that they had traveled on the Eurydice, not being so. A ship that came from the Lepanto shipyard supplanted them to protect the Gold medallion anchored in the roadstead, protected by the Christian Gladiators of Kourion, in Lod.

Everyone was calmer when making sure that a great layer of silence overcame them, forgetting, as an anticipation of continuing along the Via Dolorosa. The dawn tied him to the Silent awakening near Jerusalem, on a gray and silent day. Vernarth gets up first of all, prepares them unleavened breakfast, honey and goat milk. All united for the most critical moment of reviving, especially Saint John the Apostle, who for him would personify before his senses the moment of deafness that he could enter, rather than hearing himself from the Universe such a command back to the Holy Land.

About 3.7 billion years ago the first living beings appeared on Earth. They were small, single-celled microorganisms, not very different from today's bacteria. Cells of this type are classified as prokaryotes because they lack a nucleus (karyon in Greek), a specialized compartment where genetic machinery is kept. Prokaryotes were fully successful in their development and multiplication. Thanks to their remarkable capacity for evolution and adaptation, they gave rise to a wide diversity of species and invaded as many habitats the planet could offer them. The biosphere would be full of prokaryotes if the extraordinary breakthrough had not taken place, from which a cell of a very different type emerged: eukaryotic, that is, it has a genuine nucleus.
In this evolutionary cellular space, they were invaded by a Vertical Silence that would have to spread throughout the troposphere, the consequences of this event marked the beginning of a new span of the number line, until the consequences of this event that marked the beginning of a new epoch. Nowadays, all multicellular organisms are made up of eukaryotic cells, which have a much greater complexity than prokaryotes. If eukaryotic cells had not appeared, the extraordinary variety, so rich in ranges, of animal and plant life on our planet would not now exist; nor would man have made an appearance to enjoy such diversity and extract its secrets.

Bi simile eukaryotic cells, were ringed in metamorphic geological strata, pressing the atmosphere, the air and the earth, compressing the geological layers and gaseous atmospheres, which did not exist as a consequence of these intense pressure changes by order of the Higher Universal consciousness, with overflowing temperatures and multi chemical environments; dispersing the changes that are associated with the forces that fold on the bank of the which is current Greece. Said layer failures scattered eukaryotic cells wrapped in "Silent Libertarian Material", injecting magma, creating creative prominences on the stifling attached rocks, perhaps only to be a cellular polytheism, perhaps derived from multicellular cellular evolution. ..., becoming the sexed fusion of a great regeneration of Lithophagas species in the region ..., perhaps in Colophon where Homer was infected. Well said presumption would have to create a syncretic elaboration with that of Aristotle and Plato as eukaryotic cells, to start from this Lithophaga flower, which under its rooted roots is in this bivalve mollusk, unleashing the proto-seeds of prehistoric poetic inspiration, in super souls starting synchronously each one in this mollusk plant that goes like this, green and personified, originating epic poetics in the prehistoric and in the human phenotype.

This mega hyper sensitive cellular complex is possible, given the respect that it deserves to be cited, the innate and spontaneous hyper ethnobotanical and hyper molluscs sapiens, which were conceived by millions of years of delegating us with their sublime creation. I quote here the word Poetry from the Greek through the (Poiein: "Make or Create"). From this vertical revolution, the Silence of the painful way will emanate, intrinsic to the same evolutionary ontological, geological, theological, Scientific and Poetic-Sacred concept, linked to the creation coming from “Nothing” to a “Whole”. Everything is revealing before our backs, everything is offered before our eyes, everything comes from the soft creative anger of lightning and lightning, everything is consecrated to silence ..., but nothing moves what the whole forgot, centrifuged by the phenomena of atomicity of greater forces of the Silence of the Messiah, praying in constant practice the generation in front of our theoretical faces, in front of our Everything and Nothing of an empty warehouse.

"Silence Awaits Time ... to see, ... I entrust my Being to time" founds the greatest silence ever felt, only heard more than an ultrasound of waves that are articulated one on top of the other in algorithmic chanting that emanate from the "Silence of Mary to her son ”Also to Homer, Aristotle and Plato attached to the Lithophaga, releasing Eukaryotes. When Aristotle and Plato ripped out the Lithophaga as axiomatic leaders, they revealed the Silence of Creation and poetic anathemas, alluding to their true ancestors who slipped from their bellies like an elongated moraine sweeping their samskaras navels, like tracks that lead their own people in wisdom with a common prehistoric cellular origin.

Ita *** Dolore
Painful way

Saint John Apostle got up in silence, like profuse deafness even of spirit…, all the others were the same, traumatized to feel the stones engraved with fear and pain "Ita *** Dolore". They did not see in colors, everything was gray and black and white between cells ..., like being inside the suffered cell, lost of all consciousness. Everyone confuses their clothes, their outfits, nobody knew who each one was, only Vernarth and San Juan knew. Raeder and Petrobus,  Alikanto and Eurydice only wandered sleepwalking along the stony road, in the cobbled streets flanked by works erected of sobbing Malaki material, stones very similar to those that Jesus would have seen when following this immaculate route. The Stations of the Cross were marked by plaques, chapels in vaulting and signs on the way of lacerating and flagellating stops of more than forty degrees of ardor at each step of feverish enclosed vault.

Ellipse Messiah As a child: “Mother…; when I climbed the stairs ..., I stopped at the fourteenth step ..., in perfect mathematics opening the sky ..., like a sacred aromatic book; Well, I thought you would believe me dressed there! Mother when I went down the fourteen steps and put my last feet before you…, I could see how she sang at thirty-three on a rainy Friday afternoon, clinging to you…, accompanying me next to the stairs that you did not know… "

Ita *** Dolore
Painful way

1st Station of the Cross in Silence
Jesus was tried and sentenced to death in the Praetorium of Pontius Pilate; he will bring silence, in each interval that did not offer resistance from the flagellant whips. "Mother…; when I climbed the ladder… ”. The apostle closes his eyes; Vernarth takes him by his arms.

2nd Station of the Cross
The second station marks where Jesus took up his cross and recalls his condemnation. Romans beat Jesus and the Chapel of Judgment which commemorates the site where Jesus was condemned. Here he feels like a child… “Mother…; when I came down the stairs ...”

3rd Station of the Cross
The third station is where Jesus fell for the first time under the weight of his cross. This station is not far from Ecce **** (Behold the Man), Saint John remembers the last Supper in advance, sitting next to him ... he got up from dinner, and took off his cloak, and taking a towel, he wrapped it around …. "Mother…; when I climbed the ladder ...”

4th Station of the Cross
The fourth station marks where Maria saw her son pass. The 19th century Armenian Church of Our Lady marks this station. Deaf Vernarth, manages to hear voices from heaven saying: “Mother…; when I came down from the ladder ...”

5th Station of the Cross
At the fifth station, the Roman soldiers instructed Simon of Cyrene to help Jesus carry his cross (Luke 23). ..., "Mother I stopped on the fifth step and I never doubted to wash your feet"

6th Station of the Cross
The sixth station marks where Veronica wiped the face of Jesus with her veil. It is believed that the image of the face of Jesus was imprinted on the cloth. "Mother…; when I came down the stairs you covered my sweaty face ...”

7th Station of the Cross
At the seventh station, Jesus wavered under the weight of the cross for the second time. "Mother…; when I climbed the ladder ..., I saw the lost mountain ...”

8th Station of the Cross
The eighth station is where the "daughters of Jerusalem mourn for Jesus" (Luke 23:27). Jesus stopped here to comfort the women by telling them not to cry for him, but for themselves and their children. "Mother…; when I came down the stairs you weren't there, you were going to get me ...”

9th Station of the Cross
In the ninth station, Jesus wavered for the third time before his final ascent to Golgotha. "Mother…; when I climbed the ladder to find you, you were in front of me ...”

9th-14th Stations of the Cross
The Stone of Anointing believed to have been where Jesus was placed after being taken off the cross. Here he would have been prepared for burial. The Bible tells us that the body of Jesus was wrapped in linen and anointed with oils and spices in accordance with Jewish funeral rites. "Mother…; when I came down the stairs you covered me from the cold and enveloped me with your passion ...”

The 14th Station of the Cross - The Tomb of Christ
Right here Saint John the Apostle and Vernarth, were still deaf, but with slight symptoms of recovery of their hearing. They saw in front of them how deaf angels came to uncover their auditory channels, being their intuition proclaiming them of courage to accompany them with their teacher to the aedicule of their own crypt granted by Joseph from Arimathea. In the Chapel of the Angel that contains a small piece of the rock and that closed the cave of the burial of Christ, the chapel that leads to the tomb itself. It was here that Jesus was buried and resurrected three days after his death. "This small rectangular structure of the Aedicule marks the end of the Painful Way  and Deafness of all and the Whole World
Ita *** Dolore
Jade Nov 2018
If you’ve ever experienced it, you’d know that the
Most terrifying thing is Silence.
You would know that our very bones fear the never-ending
Blanket that smothers our songs and stars.
And the scary thing is not that the world has gone
It’s that your world has.
It’s that you can’t seem to see anything within yourself
That is bright and worth
Fighting for.

Silence isn’t a sound,
It’s not the high-pitched scream of the very
Ground pushing Silence
No, it’s a feeling.
It’s the feeling of sleeping when you’re
Like some part of you is lost within yourself just trying to
Get back to the controls.
Like even after you sleep you can’t seem to get rid of the never-ending
Tiredness that seeps into your very bones
Like the cold on a winter morning.
The Silence isn’t evil though,
It’s frightening.
It’s frightening for the people who care about the shattered heart of the
Person who fell into that Silence.
It scares them deeply because it seems
Impossible to catch someone once they’ve fallen.
Everything in our world sings songs to one another and everything around us
Because we were born to sound.
We were born to the glorious breath of laughs and
Voices and promises that
Tickle your ears if you listen hard enough.
Our world is built around the noise and clatter of emotions,
So when you can’t hear them it’s

Silence does not come from nothing.
Silence is not something that comes in
And takes you away because you are
It’s plaything.
No, Silence is something ancient.
It is something that was once eternal in it’s
Darkness before something
Somehow decided to turn on a light.
It is a heavy weight that we fight against
Because our hearts and souls yearn
For light.
We yearn for the searing brightness of
Love and Hate and Anger and Pride
To burn in our stomachs and throats.
We live to see the stars, so it’s
When we can’t.

When all we see is a broken heart
That shattered because some part of it fell

Our tears are our heart’s way of mourning
Our broken pieces and the
Parts that have lost their voice.
We see this Silence and tremble,
But until we see the sun again we don’t realize that it’s
Not eternal within us.

So if you’ve ever experienced it you’d know that
It’s the darkness of sleep.
When you have no light to go to and
You fall into Silence’s arms because you can’t see
Any stars to hold your broken pieces.
You’d know that
It’s not an enemy.
It’s the place where you can heal
Where you can finally find
A poem about the numbness that comes after great sorrow.
Irena Aug 2018
Not a single sharp sound
of high heels on the wet
Just the dark
and nothing more

The passion that evaporates
from the city streets
sticks on the accidental passerbys
The asphalt holds secrets
More than this night
More than this dark

Dead,barren silence
A grave,ominous silence
Inbetween these walls
beauty becomes as death
Inbetween these walls
pain plays distant music
that slowly lures all the gods of chaos
to lay down on these beds
In a moment
all turns into a weary cry
of a cut throat
A fare-well to the soul that
has just begun to travel

The asphalt holds secrets
This sticky asphalt hold secrets
More than the night
More than this dark

Tell me
How much would you pay
for a single little
placed in your heart
How much would you sacrifice
for the lips that would
waken from the marble stupor
from time to time
Would you sell yourself

There's silence screaming
A dead,barren silence
Grave,ominous silence

Do not destroy the cult of chaos
that I've bought from the
dead wanderer
From the dead demon outside
my threshold

I don't need to hear
the sound of the raging
sea waves
to know that the sea is close
I carry the sea in my eyes,
but my sea is a slave of this dark
Now it rests under my eye-lids

Across my sealed windows
I see bridges of no significance
There is nowhere to go
There is nothing to cross

The asphalt holds secrets
More than the night
More than this dark  
The passion that evaporates
from the city streets
sticks on the accidental passrebys

Inbetween these walls
there's the cry of an unborn child
A white little angel
that carries a message-
we're not forgotten
It lives and dies in a moment

And there's silence again
A dead,barren silence
A grave,omnious silence
Here beauty becomes what death is
Here pain plays silent music

We lay naked on these beds
For a moment,
there shines a line in your eyes
that merges the two distant horizons
And I know that you feel
that in that thin line
There's so much life and destiny
So much of your life
For a moment
And then there's the dark again
And theer's the silence again

Not a single sound of heels on the
wet crossroads
Tell me
How much would you pay for me
to end this charmed circle
in which we are the centre
the only motion
What would you sacrifice
for ten pale fingers
that would dance vividly  upon you
From time to time
Would you sell yourself

We lay naked on these beds
But I do not feel you next to me
There's just this absent scent
as gentle as the Sahara snow
And there's silence screaming
from the outside
A dead,barren silence
A grave,ominous silence
grey grey grey Mar 2017
turning silence into wasted memories*

You **** me everyday with your silence
through that green circle by your name-
a chance to know you more
with just a single tap,
a simple knock,
to turn silence into memories

still, i am content
with just the silence
never will i gather enough courage
to be weird and
bother you,
i guess i’m just
too hesitant to be spontaneous

It’s the space between us
where nothing happens
drowning too deep in my own doubts to clear my mind.
saying it won’t matter anyway, anyhow it goes.
confused and filled with what if’s and could’ve been’s.
hard for me to swallow my pride.
we never should’ve been friends.
but i want to know you more.
I divert my senses to something else.
You’re active now it says.

Nothing more than regret I can do,
I want this feeling to let me go,
want you to just-
and off you go.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2017

the silence so loud
one could hear
the cat blink

( le silence si fort
on pouvait entendre
le clignotement de chat )

the music of the silence
when the music

( la musique du silence
quand la musique
arrêts )

the cicadas weaving
a sudden silence
out of all their noise

( le tissage de cigales
un silence soudain
hors de leur bruit )

the only thing heard
in the immense silence
the cicada's beating heart

( la seule chose entendre
dans l'immense silence
les cigales battant coeur )

I could hear my blood
circulating within me
the hurtling of large corpuscles

( je pouvais entendre mon sang
circulant à l'intérieur de moi
le dévaler corpuscules de grosses )

in the darkness
our hands our eyes
we touch with kisses

( dans l'obscurité
nos mains nos yeux
nous touchons de baisers )
Paul Celano Jun 2010
The clock stops
Time hits the brakes
My body stops
Mouth left breathing
Heart left beating
Eyes blurred
They focus
I see silence
….I see….silence
I feel like I am in a picture
Not a sound
Nothing moves
Glued to Earth’s body
I hear through silence
I hear what objects think
What are they thinking?
Do they think, what I do?
Do they hear, what I hear?
I hear the rumbling of Earth’s stomach
I hear the liquid in the air
I hear gravity’s hands pulling things in
I hear my mind spinning!
From hearings things you can’t hear!
A sound more piercing then anything
It tries to drill into my skull
My head is vibrating
My sound mixing with silence
Like oil and water
It does not mix!
My voice hides
I can’t hear my voice!
I hear silence
I hear the silence….of silence!
I am left in a little ball
I listen….I hear nothing
But what am I hearing?
Am I hearing myself?
Am I hearing silence?
I stretch out and look at the sky
I hear the wind hugging leaves
I hear the songs of birds
I hear myself breathe
The pain has vanished
Can sound be pain?
Can silence be pain?
Can silence….be sound?
©2002 Paul Celano
Posted 2010
aly Jun 2011
The silence is so loud.

Silence Says so much.


Shut the **** up!


Try to drown it out.

But still silent.

Silent, maybe I just can’t hear straight?

Silent, is there something wrong with me?

Silence is so strong

Something is wrong with me.

Why cant I hear?

Self destruction

All Over silence.

Nothing is wrong with me

He is just silent.

He is just.


That’s why I cant hear.

His silence speaks the truth.

He never says what he means

But he doesn’t need to.

his silence speaks volumes.

His silence is So loud.

It’s time to accept the silence.

It’s time for me to be silent.


Silence says so much.
Anne Davies Oct 2014
There is a silence now that you have gone
Somewhere - who knows where?
A silence of your suffering, your laughter,
Your excitement, your enjoyment of food.
A silence of your telephone calls, our lunches,
Your family get togethers, the Christmas puddings.
A silence of birthday cards, Sunday roasts,
Shopping trips, seaside walks and ice cream.
A silence filled with my children's laughter,
Summer picnic days and your flower garden.
A silence of your dementia voice, muddled
And forgetful in your inhabited, twilight world.
A silence of your tears and requests to go home
To safety and your memories of a past busy life.
A silence now that you are gone which I fill with
The voice you gave us to fight on your behalf,
That speaks with truth and grief and sadness
Screaming for your help, care and support.
There is a silence now that you have gone
It fills the deaf ears of those who won't hear
Your sorrow and our pain, who dismiss your
Diagnosis and replace it with a list of lesser
Tick boxes, low scores and minor symptoms.
A silence that is full of blood transfusions,
Infections, falls and fainting and fevers,
A silence that gave you leukaemia and took
Away your life, your heart and soul and being.
A silence that I promise to break very soon
For your silent voice needs to be loudly heard
So we can all rest in quiet,  everlasting peace
Knowing you're protected by God's 'Continuing Care'

God Bless Auntie Joan x
My battle to get my Aunt 'Continuing Care Funding', she died of terminal leukaemia 3 years ago and I am still fighting the NHS.
Sukanya Basu Nov 2012
Its hard to believe to listen to
The sound of silence through layman's ears
For silence,an unestablished thought
Rides the young hearts only through fear.
Maturity, an understanding through beneath
Sediments like evils srata
For if you conquered,it only leads
To the sound of silence,every data.
For as we stare, me and words together,
Silence redeems through the pages
Every drop of ink forever
Can spell the words through all the ages.
The silence that lingers between
Begs me to hear it closer
Its trying to express the unwanted enclitic
The words that will fade never.
And now as i cherish this conversation of silence,
I realize that ink has a spirit
And to know the mistake i have committed
Which on my face like a bright light lit.
And to know the spectacular reason
I'm astonished myself, i must say
Ink helps us when we are not thinking
Flowing on paper without delay.
This sound of silence that i have gathered now,
Must be of great help all through my life
It will let me hear all those unsound-able things
And help me to decide when to stab a knife.
Through my youth scores, a bunch of thirty
Led me through a rugged terrain,
And now i want a plain surface with lots of pleasure
To lead a life, to be truly sane.
The sound is like a hand i want
Which helps me to walk in young years
Through the blasphemy, through humanism
It will strike away all my fears.
Does one realize that i said
The words of silence through every phase
The crumb of bread a beggar needs
The food of life heaven feeds?
They can't be realized by screaming though oceans,
They can't be realized by ending a story
For they are the curse of hearing unknown thoughts,
The sound of silence one and only.
My heart beats are frantic now,
As i have reached the harmonics of music,
Sweet and presentable they are now
Tapping your life like your feet.
They are many fellows who can't sing
So they make you suffer the sound of silence
With every teardrop longing for supper
Fighting their way through all the violence.
For those who have a great voice
It doesn't mean that they have to be proud,
For it may break any time
Like breaking a stone, like rumbling of clouds.
And i may not be an instrumentalist
And i may not be a teacher,
But i can stop the silence and let them hear music
And make them smile, not to suffer.
Lori Mack Sep 2018
Naked Silence...

People don’t think much of me these days,
'Cause I’m always depressed, lost and broken.
They make me feel unworthy and pathetic.
'Cause I can’t get myself together.
They choose to think without love.
Saying that this is how I wanna be.
Come on Bra,,,
Who would ever wanna live here?!?!
After opening up my ****** stitched up core,
To reveal the infamous internal horror.
I’m naked again...
Waiting for someone to give a ****.
Again silence…
No response...
Shame on me should have known better.
History always repeats itself.
Grasping out for almost any response.
I know I need help, but what the hell!
How many times do you expect me to naked?
Naked silence is all you allow me.
Silence is the demon that is killing me!
You said you were here for me.
Lies, you all say that…
But you give me no response…
Don’t ever give hope where there is none.
Every minute, every hour, everyday,
No response…
Naked silence…
It feeds on me.
Draining my drive to survive.
Have to, need to, got to, go on.
Go on... why??
So you can torture me while grinning?
Filled with judgment,
You think you know it all.
Go ahead judge me…
You’ll be judged someday.
But not by me,
You’re gonna wish it was me.
Why didn’t anyone learn from my brother?
Living in silence,
Tortured his naked soul.
So naked…
For all to see,
Yet no response.
Shame on me!
I just left him there naked.
Where’s your shame?!?
You only blame.
39 years of agonizing torment.
He couldn’t hold on anymore.
Exposed to violence and hateful words…
Completely naked.…
No response...
Don't you see what it did to him.
Silence slowly smothered him.
Betrayal sliced and snapped his neck.
Shame on me,
I knew the pain.
Shame on you,
For not claiming some blame.
In the mirror I see my brothers reflection.
Haven’t you learned,
Screaming for help...
Naked again…
No response…
History repeats itself.
I gave it my all.
What about you?
I’m not gonna make it all alone in here.
So naked...
So silent...
**** it do you hear me?
Why won't you listen.
No response…
Naked silence...
Knocking at my door,
Pure evil silence!
Beating down my door.
Hungry for my core!
Hear me,
Oh God please listen!
Help me!
Completely naked, torn and exposed...
You just sat there ignoring me,
Letting it **** me…
Surrounded by silence.
Completely naked….

L. Mack

This was written when I was going through a long and intense depression. I no longer feel naked. Hoping this can help someone by letting them know they are not alone and can pull through like I did.
Ivy Mukherjee Sep 2014
Silence is needed .

Silence is a massive part of your brainstorming session .
Let it be your studies , your workspace , your next project session or about your love .
And by love I didn't mean it to be a human being only .
Love is a strong possession , which can be about your newly bought Fountain pen or can be about your new social innovation .
But silence is needed , for making you stronger and your presence to be valuable .
Silence should be there as pure bliss , to give you a thought of match making .
Do you remember , how much you inhaled with silence and those breezy nights ?
Just cherish once about them and think where you were before some days and where are you now ; standing all alone and strong challenging all the facets of truth and society .
Yes , silence is needed .

Chaos can't always bring you to the path where you desired to end up with .

Silence doesn't make you socially introvert . It gives you the space for differentiating between you and what you will be .
Ask one poet or a writer or any person who loves to think at the end of the day , 'what is silence for them ? How much does it matter to them?'
Then come back to me and say again .... " I hate silence."
Silence is subjective . It is needed , but not always . And that also doesn't signify chaos should occupy the space .

Silence is needed to make space in those beautified chaotic nature .
I know that I will at times struggle for words…or even use too many to say too little.  Expect this. It is part of me. I will try to connect myself to the world, to circumstance, to people, with words. I attempt to stitch my fingertips to what I touch, see, and feel, with what I say. I attack with words. I defend with words. I seek, run, build and dismantle with words. There is sometimes in me a necessity for silence. But it does not come often enough. Why? It is because I fear it. I fear what silence means, because words are tangible, hey can be defined, put in boxes, made to be straight or curved, applied in context, and analyzed even for meaning separate of context. But silence? Silence can mean so many things.  There are clues with softer edges that require much more foreknowledge to obtain. Silence can be shaped by emotion into something in the mind of the beholder that it is not to the one who sits quiet. Words too can be misconceived, but with words, things are definable and misconception is almost always evident to one or the other. With silence, misconception is often left in ignorance. Both the silent and the listener are unaware of the other’s thoughts and intentions with silence. Silence is at least as powerful a tool as words.  They may both change the courses of lives. There is a time for silence and for speaking. But it is my mind which fails to know when silence is more necessary, because my mind almost by nature uses words to explain or ascribe meaning to almost everything and anything I experience.  See how long this single entry is? To explain words and their role and importance to me I am using words, because in my emotions, words are bridges, and silences are those bridges burning.  I am using words, but I will learn to use silence.

— The End —