quiet

the girl detonates but does not make a sound

Folder: 
2018

if i was a pretty one i

could blow up and break

things like silence like

shyness like sanity

like the soft you thought

i was and

i would rather shake your

world with my

crush than with my call

 

and

 

i might even bubble up once

you have taken in my

smooth, some sort of

creep that takes you

slowly, you have to

sit down take a

minute to keep going

 

but

 

in my head i am

screaming i keep

falling every time you

can’t know my name so

you just look

the right way and i

explode and not speaking i

am gone.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 5/9/18

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tags:

All alone All along

like porcelain shavings

her skin began to crack

like a feather floating on thin air

she's losing strands of silken hair

 

the mirror spits back 

all the qualities in which we lack

like needles in our eyes

poisoned with vain lies

 

she savored the quiet moments 

devoid of conversation 

the sound of still breathing

the footsteps that followed him leaving.

 

the closer I feel

the further you fade

the more I crave

the less you feed

so I chose not to need 

a single thing..

 

will there ever be a solid bridge built to cross..?

a river below, to toss our fears away...

voices muffled, as she sank deeper

yet no hand reaches.

sunshine streaks through the surface

the only warmth you'll get

engulfed in cold fluids

& a heart weighed down by loves disillusions---

many reminders of what could have been..

 

all alone

she knew it all along..

Author's Notes/Comments: 

5.7.15

fingers pressed to lips

Softly, softly even before the air escapes to form the words,

Whispers pressed gently into silence 

They were all that could be given by the pale moolight

As thoughts, they were gifted to the stars for fear the moon,

so close would send them to you as beacons of light into your darkend heart.

 

it knew too much of us.


Left unsaid, the sentiments float in silence through the universe humming your frequency if ever you want to feel more than what was never said, under the pale moon and sent among the endless starss.

View ssmoothie's Full Portfolio

Peace

Solitude is peace.

 

You don’t have to listen to others.

 

When you’re alone,

 

You can shut out humanity’s corruption.

 

 

 

Nightfall holds no meaning.

 

If you’re at peace, let be.

 

Sunlight holds no meaning.

 

If you’re at peace, let be.

 

 

 

How peaceful it is to be alone.

 

To be alone is to meditate.

 

To meditate is to see truth.

 

To see truth is to be at peace.

 

 

 

You don’t have to listen to others.

 

A family isn’t needed for peace.

 

The light that lives inside,

 

You’ll see it even better when alone.

 

 

 

Reside alone with only the light.

 

With the light by your side,

 

You will feel no loneliness,

 

Only solitude, only peace.

 

 

 

If you seek the light,

 

You won’t find it in people.

 

If you seek the dark,

 

Finding the light will be easy.

 

 

 

If you find the light,

 

You won’t need people.

 

You’ll have the light,

 

And you’ll know peace.

 

 

 

Should you forget about people?

 

No, even though you don’t need them,

 

Remember this,

 

They might need you.

 

 

 

Live for peace.

 

Live knowing death.

 

All life dies, yet lives on.

 

Death comes and peace remains.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I hope people can make some sense of what I was saying. Sometimes I just spill my emotions onto a page and end up not sure if it's even logical.

 

I felt like writing this because in the past few years I've dwelled on the darkness I see in myself and other people - the corruption. I see so much of it that I tend to lose sight of what's good. For a while I dwelled on the darkness and felt content with hatred. I hated the human race. I wanted to watch it die because in my mind everyone, including myself, deserved it. But now I've found peace in solitude and prayer/meditation. Even though I still easily see bad things in myself and other people I've become a little more numb to them. I'm more able to highlight the good things in people. I've done this by turning not to people themselves, but to something higher, much higher. I crave solitude and time alone so that I can reflect on this, and so that I'm not so sickened by the world around me.

The Empty Park

Folder: 
Childrens Poetry

 

 

The park is empty now;

Silence demands your attention

As engrossingly does the noise:

Of over exuberrant shrieks and

Cries pervading the park's confine!

 

Overgrown, swaying in the wind, buttercups;

Cheerily push towards the blue sky.

A swaith of rippling daisies; alongside

The butterups grow reaching for the heavens too.

Many a daisychain made by children, decorates the park.

 

Swings moving in response to the wind.

See-Saw proudly angled high, awaiting

the next children to ride.

The slide solidily stands at the centre of the park:

With as many children climbing up as slides down it.

 

Adventure abounds in the park, as the young ones endeavour;

at this or that or the other, ride

and whilst encouraged to excercise and keepfit.

Some of the parents try; they are anything but fit:

Red face and bountious body masses, "have a go for the kids!".

 

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Her Perspective

I found a girl, and saw her perspective
Silent, yet surprisingly reflective
They claimed she was away, entirely defective

But I knew otherwise just from the look in her eyes
I saw through the silent, and closed off disguise


And from there, I saw the immediate connection
Completely dissected, but still searches for true affection

 

Her warm, yet crooked emotion
A calmed, yet broken devotion

 

Silent, but struggling for her sound
and yet, still not a face found

 

Her skin torn, gone and rotten.
Her mouth stolen, words lost, ignored and forgotten.

 

She was exposed to all of the morbid things
Corrupted lies, and uneven broken wings

 

All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew

 

And she left sudden, without a word,
Her existence she seen was too blurred

 

Before I could realize, she was gone and done
Did you ever wonder what life can become?

 

All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew..

"Floating"

She wore a cloak of ambient moonlight,
The walls of mahogany sleepless in the quantum radiation.
Her breath reeking of gin, her hair of velvet a beautiful mess,
She wandered as a shadow, the marble stone floors cold as the winter snow.

She breathed lightly, listening to the breeze dance along the outer bricks.
She wandered room by room, listening, waiting.
She could almost feel the night air kiss her neck,
The way it twisted, scattered, smelled of the winter pine.

She danced, floated to invisible snare drums,
Hummed to the inaudible cello.
A sainted animation of the lustrous night,
She drifted along the quiet marble.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Tell me what you think!

View kylejco's Full Portfolio

Silently - March 22, 2013

 

I am a new aquaintance that is yet to make a sound.

Yet to be understood, I show no feelings aloud.

When I depart from the public, go home to flee,

I feel the need to tease, to please my sanity.

Silently, I cry. Silently, I die. Silently, I try

to overcome my insanity; bridge over the pain in me.

 

You make me feel like an outcast just because I'm not like you.

Should I be like who? I'm sick of your complaining,

you're straining me, draining me of energy. Listen to me, please.

It's not you, it's me! My plea for individuality is wrong;

too long do I have to wait for acceptance; you'll never repent this.

Take my fist and bury it under the sand; my will in your hands.

I'm powerless against conformity. I'm just a deformity

on this tumor you call me. Free me of this disease,

I'm fucking begging, on me knees. Please, please,

make me who you want me to be. Tell me, please, what you want to see.

I don't care if it's not me. Make a new me. One you want to see.

Make me what you want to see.

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"Quietly Vibrant"

I can’t help but hide from this envious moon,

Clinging to the sky like ivory on oak.

Intertwined fibers of its circumference gleaming,

Outside, nostalgic avenues form rivers, streaming.

 

I can’t help but stare at these silent walls,

Repelling the cold air like magnetic aversion.

Headlights shine lambent, photonic, reflecting.

Inside, dark paint glitters, diverting, infecting.

 

As the immoderate stars watch over us, burnished,

The fear of hereafter is compelling, yet mystic.

I watch from my chamber, I listen; I wait,

A schema, cognition, they must procreate.

 

Why do I hide from an obscure world?

Outlining boundaries, fearful, despondent.

Expressions vague, a world aside.

These factions of cryptic, doth not subside.

 

Why be afraid of a future forthcoming?

For thou shall come quiet, vibrant, becoming.

 

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