|Best Poems About / On SILENCE
The greatest power
Says more than any word
Without saying a single one
The greatest noice
Nothing is heard better
Than the sound of silence
Ina Helen Herland
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There is a lot about silence..
Sometimes its like an intangible license!
Silence because of your fear..
And because somebody is so near!
Silence because you meditate..
And because you are the mediate!
Silence because you decided to surrender..
And because you dont want to answer that offender!
Silence because you are judged by a few..
And because a lot more trust you!
Silence because you dont find him worth arguing..
And because you are simply listening!
Silence because you already know you are lovely..
And because at times people are sadly ugly!
Silence because you want to forgive..
And because you simply want to relive!
Silence because you are stunned by the reality
And because even virtual is imaginative practicality!
Silence because you are embarrassed and ashamed..
And because your words ended up being unread!
Silence because you know you have a hope..
And because you know solution isnt tying yourself by rope!
Silence sometimes so productive..
Politics is successful in proving it destructive!
Silence by the sea so wonderful..
By the grave worst than awful!
Silence when with the one you feel passionate..
Unlikely also with the one you hate!
Silence even when everything is said..
Also when your huge bills are already paid!
If you wonder why silence is difficult to understand..
Ask yourself what part of somebody you cannot stand!
Silence sometimes kills..
And sometimes it also heals!
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the weight of silence
lay the writing burden down
the silence stabs at your heart
uncap all the tubes
a lifetime of paint uncapped and oozing
take the stand
as witness for the silence
see the silence form in eyes
glazed with the noise of mist
sometimes i am the silence
choked with clouds
there were answers once
lots of them
so many they threatened sanity with too much coherence
whether there were answers or not there were answers
every time a silence untied
an answer bloomed and erupted to seal it locked
all the answers i ever needed for all the silences i ever experienced
i used ideas like nails, words to hammer the silences shut
i used paint to cover the stains
to cover the stains
to cover the stains
which always bleed through
leaving the canvas heavier and heavier to bear
even standing over there in the corner
ready to fall down
pretense has a way of turning ever so slowly into fog
drifting like assassins over the ground
following the contours with the symphony of shadows
they dance, the fog with the shadows
they ascend embrace cleave bow and then are vanished
the music the only reminder
driven by the silence
it never falters
listen the music of silence swells
spreads evenly over the ground
filling in contours topographies excuses rationalities the fuzzy blare of cheap speakers
listen a clear note - a silence
horns trumpets drums big drums
i see the mallets hammering home the silence
how can that be
there are no answers anywhere in evidence
there used to be
i could answer everything
now the silence is too much
now the silence sweet violin of silence
the strings of long succulent juicy silence
i want to falllllllllllllllll
as yet i do not know the way
it is blocked
my nitro is useless
my strength has lost its ability to hold the silence
to bring it close
to caress it
it gathers encircling me
full of characters of vapour
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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 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 be 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 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.
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
And the silence of Jeanne d'Arc
Saying amid the flames, "Blessed Jesus" --
Revealing in two words all sorrows, 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.
Edgar Lee Masters
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