Quietude poems bring the best collection of short and long quietude poetry. Poems for him and her and every poetry lover. These great quietude rhymes are so amazing they will touch your heart and keep you craving for more. Hope you find your own deep meanings in these quietude poems. They are decent, rhyming, free spirited and true. Thoughts on quietude are here for you.
Alone I walk alone I stand Known only to God’s angelic band Sometimes a blessing and a curse Solitude my friend for better or worse Many go seek elsewhere delight But I can see that she holds the light Only
Vane glorious and absolutistic, though I defiantly, cavalierly, and blithely attest Yukon bet your (laugh-in) sweet bippy mine acidic breast houses anarchic, anti-poetic ballistic, barbaric, and bubonic cannibalistic demons within thy safely guarded Pandora chest atomic cesium clock timed to
The smoke rises higher and the fire’s centre burned so bright We all sat around it as if transfixed by its almighty rite The shadows we create cannot penetrate its heat We burn some rabbit from this afternoon and feast,
Though I clearly see Paralleling traits, Corresponding facets Astonishingly quaint, This complex, albeit moving, Prominent connection, Holds a minute blemish Worthy of reflection. Contrast, yes there’s one, A distinction can be drawn, For you’re rarely right, While I’m never wrong!
A silent whisper, I continue to be. A shadow missed, on the deserted street. A speck of dust, that nobody sees. In ancient trunks, and cobwebbed locks. I lie inside, a forgotten sigh. Through dirty nights, and foreseen dawns. I’m
I see a future of war And evil dissent Of poverty and famine And dark discontent A world descended Into desolate gloom All joy and laughter Chased out of the room I see helpless children Lining wasted streets Tattered, just
While you are engrossed by a mourned silence within, Abruptly! You get caressed by a love, like a Ghost orchid, and you glide along, submissively! He is an enchanter to the astray, and like a wild fire, on an iceberg,
You lived your life, now you’ve passed away Cremated with nothing left to decay Grief endlessly lingers more so some days, eternal peace for your soul I do pray. I have had to begin the process of change Our home
I’ve lived in your heart for three years. My payments were always before time. If I made too much noise I assure you I didn’t know. My foot steps are often loud, the neighbor beside me keeps his music up.
Much can be said But we speak in hushed tones Curt with our responses Hiding behind the wall of vulnerability We hold our breaths in anticipation Who will be the first to crack ? Unsightly in the walls of protection
As a poet, I may dream and conjure the conversations And in mute silence, the unexplainable, There is no word to describe this state of things, They sailed along things on their own fashion and course of ordinary interludes, On
On a day icy-cold, snowy and serene Glancing through the window ebony-framed Stitched a silk scarf a genial queen Prickled when she her slim flat finger Three blood drops fell upon her sewing Gave she birth to a girl ”Snow
Casuarina! I miss you a lot. Why don’t you reclaim this drab century by your drooping branches, off from the poetry of water? The words are dried up. No rustling sounds, the winged creatures broke the mirrors, a black moon.
The box clatters with every sway of the automobile, My tummy feels like metals crushing together, freezing my teeth, The glasses shaking nonstop, feels like hell, Everywhere we step is a death trap, dodging several holes, The chauffeur, all red
When comfortably placed in life why make yourself uncomfortable by worrying Unnecessarily While an orphan who has nothing in life seldom worries , what makes you worry then ? When you can’t even share your worries who else can better
Shame took over. The eyes caved in. Rolled inside the skull. Tears dropped making a pool, an ocean. Anger took over. The eyes bare a stare. You won’t be able to bear. They will pierce through you. Don’t look here.
Every day, for every day when you start your day Look towards Jesus and give Him praise, endless praise Praise to Jesus for His love freely, perfectly given Praise to His glory, His power and mercy Praise to one day
They always met at that restaurant you never saw full more waitresses than customers despite the good location the savory smell that reminded you of late fall lunch some kind of fry-up all the aunts and cousins threw together while
A randon creation convulsed by grief. Death of a pendant was not able to recall the cleavage. Kosher scream, the grandchildren will not know the fakes of reality show, pure as honey, then the scratching starts: look the tiger was
A silent wrath sits in a pool of blood, will start a battle over the footprints of sponges who soaked the history. The flow of endurance, lava on the tongue triggers discontent for a riot of spawned hunger. One transparent
I didn’t know the meaning of life, For many many years. The sun rose and the routine began, Waking you, getting you ready, plaiting and ribboning, Packing tiffins, and putting you in a waiting bus. The hours that followed were
In the twilight of life There he was rambling Amid the memories he bore Of his life Memories sweet and sour Flow by his mind, Leaving traces of Wrinkled smile There he walks in tranquility Like an old man Rich
Hello! Chester here… Missing you so, A bookworm am I, Oh, yesss, today just sliding by… With spectacles on my nose, I do both poetry and prose. Want to hear more about me … And my family…? So awfully lovely
A gunny sack was full of bleached skulls. What now? Do I attend the auction of mortal wounds in hidden valley of dust? The arsenal of seductive weapons was a snub to your culture when the fall of extremes was
What that I am left with, impaled in jaws of mantis, starting a tug of war, for the otherness in me, seeking a bloodbath between my poise and incestuous blue hole of black walls. I gave you my voice, my
Ash Wednesday 2018 “I always buy The Big Issue in London because round our way, it’s a load of Romanians. I say, you should look after Your own first”. The ash-smudge as fresh on her forehead as a virgin, painted
Emptiness is there Within the space Wherever you are Whatever your race Balance and harmony Within each other Cosmic ceremony Forever and ever Our own selves depend On our own thoughts Free it, your mind From unbalanced notes A healthy
You are golden Like the mysteries Of a lost, lonely jungle, A photographed crowd At a Victorian ball, A heatwave in spring, The laughter of wild animals, A winding ancient path That leads to a fortified town – The clown
This morning at the town square, little orphaned children gathered to listen to stories and lies left behind by last night’s lovers. On one of the benches by the fountain, one of the children, a little girl with a clogged
It was a lingering goodbye for anchor moon after a religious embrace. I bid farewell in the chilling night for a song of separation. Where the beginning ends into a house of distillation. Blasphemy, where did you find the anatomy