"ssshh" poems - Hello Poetry

No need to say a word, it's morning in the country, leave the chirping for the birds. Lay your precious head, against my caring arm, be silent now instead, let me keep you safe from harm. Each day I get to hear you, speaking merrily to me, I treasure all you say and do, that lends a tender mystery. So, take your words and tuck them, deep inside your caring heart, your eyes say everything they can, and that's a wonderful way to start.

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Sep 8, 2010

Sep 8, 2010 at 2:38 AM UTC

d-conors

ssshh!

No need to say a word, it's morning in the country, leave the chirping for the birds. Lay your precious head, against my caring arm, be silent now instead, let me keep you safe from harm. Each day I get to hear you, speaking merrily to me, I treasure all you say and do, that lends a tender mystery. So, take your words and tuck them, deep inside your caring heart, your eyes say everything they can, and that's a wonderful way to start.

15

2AM Bedroom door Dim lights Squeaky stairs White noise Television Silhouette Tick-tock clock Kitchen knife Red blood stains Sweaty palms Strawberry jam Wheat grain sandwich Midnight snack

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Aug 31, 2015

Aug 31, 2015 at 12:14 PM UTC

littlewolfgirl

Ssshh... (List Poetry)

2AM Bedroom door Dim lights Squeaky stairs White noise Television Silhouette Tick-tock clock Kitchen knife Red blood stains Sweaty palms Strawberry jam Wheat grain sandwich Midnight snack

14

..................... " Soothe your burning soul... Maybe talk to it, and hear it groan... Are you listening with your second mind ON ?? It's whispering... Are you in sync with your soul, or is it tearing itself apart from you?? Do you see it getting anxious? Trying to escape every moment? Can you dare to ask it what's the problem and be ready to face disappointment, if silence is all you get in return?? Don't you understand it talks only in silence? and now it has broken even that... Are you listening hard enough? It's whispering... What do you see when you look into the mirror? Do you see at times that your soul has taken place of your reflection? What do you see.. in the mirror??? Do you see the puny devils, sitting on both sides of your shoulders? Do you notice your poor angel's body hanging itself by braided ropes... Ropes that are tied to your neck? Do you see a morbid satisfaction on the dead angel's face... and your soul looking at you with mocking gaze? Do you hear your soul now? It's whispering...! Hush, Now!!! My soul is asleep, I have fed it with few lies... Shown it a new possibility and adorned a new mask... Hush, Now!!! My soul is asleep, With content etched over it's face, And now I looking at it, with mocking gaze!! Ssshh!!! I am not a freak!! I am not creepy at all... I have just heard my soul, but alas a bit too late, I heard it when it was crying!! Do you feel your soul, yet? It's trying to contact you! In the darkness, through the mirrors... In the silence, through the nightmares... Do you feel it? It's getting anxious... It's trying to contact you, Are you listening hard enough?? Alas... It's Screaming... " © OutcastDreamer

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Sep 5, 2015

Sep 5, 2015 at 11:44 AM UTC

Od

ARE YOU LISTENING??

..................... " Soothe your burning soul... Maybe talk to it, and hear it groan... Are you listening with your second mind ON ?? It's whispering... Are you in sync with your soul, or is it tearing itself apart from you?? Do you see it getting anxious? Trying to escape every moment? Can you dare to ask it what's the problem and be ready to face disappointment, if silence is all you get in return?? Don't you understand it talks only in silence? and now it has broken even that... Are you listening hard enough? It's whispering... What do you see when you look into the mirror? Do you see at times that your soul has taken place of your reflection? What do you see.. in the mirror??? Do you see the puny devils, sitting on both sides of your shoulders? Do you notice your poor angel's body hanging itself by braided ropes... Ropes that are tied to your neck? Do you see a morbid satisfaction on the dead angel's face... and your soul looking at you with mocking gaze? Do you hear your soul now? It's whispering...! Hush, Now!!! My soul is asleep, I have fed it with few lies... Shown it a new possibility and adorned a new mask... Hush, Now!!! My soul is asleep, With content etched over it's face, And now I looking at it, with mocking gaze!! Ssshh!!! I am not a freak!! I am not creepy at all... I have just heard my soul, but alas a bit too late, I heard it when it was crying!! Do you feel your soul, yet? It's trying to contact you! In the darkness, through the mirrors... In the silence, through the nightmares... Do you feel it? It's getting anxious... It's trying to contact you, Are you listening hard enough?? Alas... It's Screaming... " © OutcastDreamer

52

I was composing, but was lost in the middle. . . But my heart is a masterpiece, pumping countless words in a single thought. I have here a secret. . . Only this time, I dared to burn the best poem above the earth. Ssshh. . To truly say is a founded art, you touched the life and not the soul. For in every craft I chose to write, keeps my purest thoughts in great disguise. . . Oh, how it pains a poet's heart to build a cave and dig the ground. Save my soul from all the lies, to all the lines you think is right "Id love to walk, but you chose to run And now? I nevermind."

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Apr 19, 2015

Apr 19, 2015 at 8:24 AM UTC

theblindseeker12

I Burned the best poem

I was composing, but was lost in the middle. . . But my heart is a masterpiece, pumping countless words in a single thought. I have here a secret. . . Only this time, I dared to burn the best poem above the earth. Ssshh. . To truly say is a founded art, you touched the life and not the soul. For in every craft I chose to write, keeps my purest thoughts in great disguise. . . Oh, how it pains a poet's heart to build a cave and dig the ground. Save my soul from all the lies, to all the lines you think is right "Id love to walk, but you chose to run And now? I nevermind."

20

Heart and soul, the symphony orchestra of your beauty’s chords. I wrote you a note,— a love letter with a fountain pen; Ink lines fine tuned, emotions filled in words. The sounds of trees blowing in a summer wind, a palm holding onto birds singing morning secrets in my ears. The ocean tackling tides, of love in waves. The blue I see; kissing you with joyful tears. A minor occurrence; in these major keys, fiddling to find the right one to the lock. The song of love isn’t the same for all, _An interlude_—lyrics of love, her and I both sing. _Ssshh!_ Calm yourself--your anxious feelings, and hungering eyes. Let the sound of love move you off your feet. Under stars of ball room lights, dancing together. I’ll be waiting darling till you and I meet.

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Jul 2, 2022

Jul 2, 2022 at 12:43 PM UTC

OddOdysseyPoet

Love interlude

Heart and soul, the symphony orchestra of your beauty’s chords. I wrote you a note,— a love letter with a fountain pen; Ink lines fine tuned, emotions filled in words. The sounds of trees blowing in a summer wind, a palm holding onto birds singing morning secrets in my ears. The ocean tackling tides, of love in waves. The blue I see; kissing you with joyful tears. A minor occurrence; in these major keys, fiddling to find the right one to the lock. The song of love isn’t the same for all, _An interlude_—lyrics of love, her and I both sing. _Ssshh!_ Calm yourself--your anxious feelings, and hungering eyes. Let the sound of love move you off your feet. Under stars of ball room lights, dancing together. I’ll be waiting darling till you and I meet.

18

I do not know how to cope I've never felt uglier than in this moment never ever ever want to feel this again im picking at scabs and the blood is giving me colour making me vibrant im not crazy nonono this song makes me twist and turn I must be hearing it in my sleep I wake up s-s-s-shivering I kick away warmth and leave it on the floor ssshh shhh it's ok it's ok lots of worse things have happened just go to sleep it's alright just don't let them win do not do not let them win w i n im spilling tears down my shirt im feeling stringy and bloated im feeling worn down I do not know how to cope

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Jun 26, 2014

Jun 26, 2014 at 7:01 PM UTC

olivepoet

you were a deity: unhealthy

I do not know how to cope I've never felt uglier than in this moment never ever ever want to feel this again im picking at scabs and the blood is giving me colour making me vibrant im not crazy nonono this song makes me twist and turn I must be hearing it in my sleep I wake up s-s-s-shivering I kick away warmth and leave it on the floor ssshh shhh it's ok it's ok lots of worse things have happened just go to sleep it's alright just don't let them win do not do not let them win w i n im spilling tears down my shirt im feeling stringy and bloated im feeling worn down I do not know how to cope

23

*Am I merely an entertaining guest? If so – in the course of my entertainment Perhaps I should have resigned All of these cursed talents one after the other On the principle that no matter what - There is no way that I could keep them all. Perhaps if someone else had these curses And they were not in my brain - Maybe then I could become a regular Joe. Yet I ask – Is it that I am the one let in To show off my own wit or is it That I was let in to see the wit of others? I call upon heaven itself to bear witness To the fact that even now, I have never once opened my lips. Even so I am told by most that they have Never had a more improved conversation With a man in their life. Strange. How crafty and artful I must be to Speak without ever saying a single word. Have I some gift to UN-people them from Their dominion over their own Ideas of Love? Or are all of us mere objects of our affections Hiding about as slaves in a church while not Actually believing in anything? Could a slave defend the citadel anyway? In my mind I form designs toward All sentiments of every religion finding That beauty has its place buried So deep in worship that even the Church is but a slave to its effects. But life itself is not so adamant. It comes and it goes flowing through First one and then another having no Such chain or restraints as does the Fleeting song of beauty which in time Steals all beauty laying waste to us all. Likewise, religion too is a waste if it Is based purely on the beauty of itself. My lips are not moving now either But they are neither dead or fully alive. But if they could they surely would say More than an entire encyclopedia could Say by just saying that one single word aloud. Yet if I said that one word aloud Everyone would take me to the corner Pinning the badge of idiot upon me. So remember of me this - I am as much a slave to this mind As this mind is a slave to life. The price for this mind’s freedom has Within it an honest reckoning of which I can neither avoid or deny. Inside my mind there is a slave fighting Diligently with my every sentiment of honor – Both cherished and despised by this, my inner revolt. Yet I grow ever stronger even as I battle myself. Though I am often forced back down To a slavery system which forces me To be a slave to that one word that has Within it the ability to set us all free. While it both loses us and finds us Somewhere inside of this silenced art. I need not say the word for if you are A slave to it – as am I – you already know it. Ssshh – just write about it – don’t say it out loud.*

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Jun 28, 2017

Jun 28, 2017 at 12:45 AM UTC

willy-shakysphere

The Idiot's Corner

*Am I merely an entertaining guest? If so – in the course of my entertainment Perhaps I should have resigned All of these cursed talents one after the other On the principle that no matter what - There is no way that I could keep them all. Perhaps if someone else had these curses And they were not in my brain - Maybe then I could become a regular Joe. Yet I ask – Is it that I am the one let in To show off my own wit or is it That I was let in to see the wit of others? I call upon heaven itself to bear witness To the fact that even now, I have never once opened my lips. Even so I am told by most that they have Never had a more improved conversation With a man in their life. Strange. How crafty and artful I must be to Speak without ever saying a single word. Have I some gift to UN-people them from Their dominion over their own Ideas of Love? Or are all of us mere objects of our affections Hiding about as slaves in a church while not Actually believing in anything? Could a slave defend the citadel anyway? In my mind I form designs toward All sentiments of every religion finding That beauty has its place buried So deep in worship that even the Church is but a slave to its effects. But life itself is not so adamant. It comes and it goes flowing through First one and then another having no Such chain or restraints as does the Fleeting song of beauty which in time Steals all beauty laying waste to us all. Likewise, religion too is a waste if it Is based purely on the beauty of itself. My lips are not moving now either But they are neither dead or fully alive. But if they could they surely would say More than an entire encyclopedia could Say by just saying that one single word aloud. Yet if I said that one word aloud Everyone would take me to the corner Pinning the badge of idiot upon me. So remember of me this - I am as much a slave to this mind As this mind is a slave to life. The price for this mind’s freedom has Within it an honest reckoning of which I can neither avoid or deny. Inside my mind there is a slave fighting Diligently with my every sentiment of honor – Both cherished and despised by this, my inner revolt. Yet I grow ever stronger even as I battle myself. Though I am often forced back down To a slavery system which forces me To be a slave to that one word that has Within it the ability to set us all free. While it both loses us and finds us Somewhere inside of this silenced art. I need not say the word for if you are A slave to it – as am I – you already know it. Ssshh – just write about it – don’t say it out loud.*

67

What is a man if not the lightness of night and the darkness of day? A crush of sullied confusion, a mess of uneasy contradiction Drven by his own stolen ideas and lifes fractured ideals. Is this what makes a man? What is a man if not the dreamers lie and it's devious truth? In all of its bitter failings and its many crushing defeats Of private investigations uncovering endless regrets and remorse Is this what it takes to be a man? Ssshh..let him be, leave him rest, for tomorrow dawns another day When all these questions and doubts Shall be answered by a starlings call or the piercing of a silver bullets heart Perhaps that's what it shall take to call oneself a man?

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Dec 5, 2016

Dec 5, 2016 at 6:15 PM UTC

david-noonan

Questions & Doubts

What is a man if not the lightness of night and the darkness of day? A crush of sullied confusion, a mess of uneasy contradiction Drven by his own stolen ideas and lifes fractured ideals. Is this what makes a man? What is a man if not the dreamers lie and it's devious truth? In all of its bitter failings and its many crushing defeats Of private investigations uncovering endless regrets and remorse Is this what it takes to be a man? Ssshh..let him be, leave him rest, for tomorrow dawns another day When all these questions and doubts Shall be answered by a starlings call or the piercing of a silver bullets heart Perhaps that's what it shall take to call oneself a man?

12

...the city at 4AM ...pages turning slowly ...a sigh of relief ...a heart beating ...the inaudible neighborhood ...leaves falling ...pen touching the paper ...the rain ...the silence after the rain ...the silence ...silence ...ssshh

0

Mar 13, 2021

Mar 13, 2021 at 7:39 AM UTC

ce-walalang

sounds i

...the city at 4AM ...pages turning slowly ...a sigh of relief ...a heart beating ...the inaudible neighborhood ...leaves falling ...pen touching the paper ...the rain ...the silence after the rain ...the silence ...silence ...ssshh

12

my fingers are your eyelashes they long to dance, yearn for the fall you bat them, i follow how attachment kills the most insanitary are the fingernails i grow ssshh listen there is something pouring to the rhythm what's that liquid doing between mirage and insanity

0

Oct 9, 2016

Oct 9, 2016 at 6:09 AM UTC

Pea

Sting & nectar, are you bee

my fingers are your eyelashes they long to dance, yearn for the fall you bat them, i follow how attachment kills the most insanitary are the fingernails i grow ssshh listen there is something pouring to the rhythm what's that liquid doing between mirage and insanity

11

I ponder you all make fun of it I am pondering .. i get back to non-pondering state in my the most pondered mind

0

Nov 4, 2014

Nov 4, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC

Maavi

ssshh..let it keep quite

I ponder you all make fun of it I am pondering .. i get back to non-pondering state in my the most pondered mind

5

Give me a day's time And I ll give you the treasure of ages long! A day of dark passionate love Just you & me Pin drop silence A gentle breeze passing by Begins early at yo forehead Am diving down The space between two thigh of yours Isn't it the door to heaven Yes it's! Give me the necter Its yours Fill my thirst of ages Love me more Stretch your thighs Lemme put my bite on those Crushing them hard only when yo feel arose Come sit upon me Yes am feeling a lot Its yo turn Give me the due Let's kiss The dew drops on the window shield Am on your chest Touching yo lips here I'm Am touching with my lips I wanna hear you Nope Let us be in the flow Sshhhh...ssshh..sss Let me kiss you wholelly C'on Am getting ready Licking it a bit to make you feel good Carry on Touching your thighs Kissing it all over You liking it Yeaaa Anything you wish **** it hard Blow with yo hand & lips You can do it Blow it with hands Ok ******* it the way you want Do as you wish You didn't kiss my neck Here I do love Yes just ******* & kissing it Smoothly Coming up to your chest Am all on you GB Loving you C'on baby Infinite........!!!

0

Aug 31, 2016

Aug 31, 2016 at 2:17 PM UTC

gourab-banerjee

Epic of Infinite....

Give me a day's time And I ll give you the treasure of ages long! A day of dark passionate love Just you & me Pin drop silence A gentle breeze passing by Begins early at yo forehead Am diving down The space between two thigh of yours Isn't it the door to heaven Yes it's! Give me the necter Its yours Fill my thirst of ages Love me more Stretch your thighs Lemme put my bite on those Crushing them hard only when yo feel arose Come sit upon me Yes am feeling a lot Its yo turn Give me the due Let's kiss The dew drops on the window shield Am on your chest Touching yo lips here I'm Am touching with my lips I wanna hear you Nope Let us be in the flow Sshhhh...ssshh..sss Let me kiss you wholelly C'on Am getting ready Licking it a bit to make you feel good Carry on Touching your thighs Kissing it all over You liking it Yeaaa Anything you wish **** it hard Blow with yo hand & lips You can do it Blow it with hands Ok ******* it the way you want Do as you wish You didn't kiss my neck Here I do love Yes just ******* & kissing it Smoothly Coming up to your chest Am all on you GB Loving you C'on baby Infinite........!!!

58