Silent

Words that were never spoken sometimes tell better stories

Silence makes a person an island in a violent sea, like me never free drowning in your hypocrisy, not to be anything more than a cut that bleeds in a slaughterhouse, a butcher’s meat made for consumption in a preheated factory sanctum, thank them for the meal, let them decide what’s real, what to hear, what to feel steal the truth and reheat the lies, eat us alive, while you heal with dry eyes, and continue to survive

 

You swallow my pain when my hearts a heavy sharp machete a hollow bloodstained letter to the better person I wish I was, giving you paper cuts, shut out cause I’m dangerous, should be out in the Serengeti sweating but instead I'm behind the bars of my mind because I’ve run out of fuel, blood, hate and love so I stay silenced, left behind, words are too hard, so I ignore my reality, just like everyone does, blind

 

People are vigilant privileged like a psychopath driven with the visage of wrath driving this sacrilege into me until I’m seeing s**t wandering attacked by the inner muttering as my minds flutters like a mechanic butterfly open up the shutters and let it fly in the sun again surviving, dividing my wit infinite times until I’m covered in my own blood again, resigned as long as I can continue to rhyme I will live on through the lies of demon spawn, the tide never saying goodbye riding high with the metal sword of my mind never wrong never too far gone to survive with the noose tied around my neck caressed what’s left, choking on death, wondering what’s next, buried by the tide’s depths I hide under the thunder so I hear silence as the nothingness collides

 

When I look at the mirror my lips stitched together whether I have a tongue of leather or your song just sound better I see silence, muffled words cannot be heard, thoughts that can’t fly wild, a wingless bird

 

I want silence, I want to hear nothingness, stillness, something just to listen and fix the problems on my list from my therapist an amethyst of pugilistic municipal government pays for the treatment drugging me to try and write something again, be a better man, and bend under the system they send, blackout under the noise, hear nothing but the void, coy with the boys I could never get down with, get along with, the girls I couldn’t get it on with, the world tries to solve it with its problems with words, but does it deserve to be heard when I’m whited out in the yell, what it’s done to me, the nerve? The hurt that continues to swell? This yelling hell within me?

 

I’m still like silence, quietly write outside the sunlight, the garden outside, the birds that cry love lives and fly by the place I first tried to commit suicide, I have the lights off, the shaded darkness fills my room, survived, thrived through the silence, bloomed, stopped screaming scared, quiet, I used to be a mild little s**t, the world outside says get back in your room, consume any idea that you spy outside your eyelids and never ever forgive your self-hatred, relive the idea of hanging from the ceiling, continue lying to yourself, continue dreaming alone, wish it was real, set in stone and seal the feelings behind new ideas that you own, forget the deal and loan happiness, continue keeling over giving up slowly, you are not holy, only human, alone here, inside your own borders

 

I stay silenced in a place where  I can’t quite make an impact, where I can’t get things right, exact, haven’t been intact till they stuck in the thumbtacks, hacked at my flesh, cracked, got smacked with a crowbar like a baseball bat, slack off and pretend I don’t lack a life any better than then, that the people that ransacked my knapsack and cracked my safe were friends, wave goodbye to your life, escape, rended by silence awake in the night, say goodbye to this place, send me away

 

I fear silence since I want to be noticed, to be heard, to be known, to be respected, collected, maybe elected to reflect on this and protect this like it’s my own promise?

To be bold and to not feel the hopeless soaking into my broken dreams, corrected, and soft memories that serve me are the bed, the foundation of now, times of elation, patience, my prison has risen from what could have been, living dissected, housed in ignorance

 

I appear to be a tyrant to the monsters responsible for this quiet, this pain, this mourning for yesterday’s frayed picture frame of morning, scoring some meaning, soaring through a reason for living, a screening searching for something, believing, not sharing caring seemingly just being self-absorbed while I sit in the morgue, ploy, devoid of it all, stone cold, small, bored, mauled moored to this boat of madness sinking savage my sneer violent in the sadness, I pay my rent with the words, floating among my silence, the things I didn’t say, the things I couldn’t say, the things that were never heard, the syllables unkillable a vehicle that drives me insane, but forgotten, no longer invincible merged physical in the cynical process feeling nothingness

When things didn’t go my way and I got played this parade deserved to be rained on, I used to feel found and now I’ve faded away in the cascade of today’s sun rays, no noise, no sound, waiting as the drops hit the ground, this is my life now

 

I shout silence, waiting to be heard, but no one is listening, no one around to hear the void devoid of meaning, a mute being I wish was loud screaming

Why would they stop to listen? No reason. With the world glistening pretty are they missing anything? No their not. I’m restless in this deafness. Am I just another s****y cloud in this horizon of skies, just another pitiable compound in a dirt mound, just another hound on the streets, just another wanderers feet? A soundless heartbeat? A soul that needs treatment? A forgotten old secret? A person who’s beaten? I will not be defeated by the emptiness of my own words

I hear nothing but the something I have that is worthless, that is nothing but the silence, soft, numb, perfectly without purpose

And I hope you like the sound of that, I hope it lulls you to sleep and gives you the answers you seek, I hope it creeps into your dreams and bleeds your lives dry of sunshine, seeps into the very seems of your mind, behind your eyes and inside your soul I hope you never forget, swallow it whole, never leave it behind, that I’ll always be inside with my words, my advice, my hatred a parasite that you cannot run from

Because I only have some secrets to tell, in my own lyrical hell mumblings that cannot be heard clear like a bell, but I’ll share them my tongue flopping, my words dropping like the rain, never stopping, till my bodies clock stops ticking, not talking, not sharing, sick and rotting, preparing to hear, to think, to feel when someday I just may stop rocking the mic with my cocky don’t give a f**k with attitude, prelude to the doom that will be coming sooner than later, let me go out like a meteor makes a crater so stay tuned while I rot cocooned in my room, excused from the real world, thrown out with the trash, left to bloom under the light of the computer screens dream rather than the moon, buried in my living tomb, lasting until the fumes of nothing embrace disgrace and consume you, and I can pretend that my words finally moved you

 Until the day I just fall silent

Just leave, like a fallen leaf, brief, like a heartbeat

Until the silence accepts me like a bad dream

Fall into a deep sleep in hell, further the words, murder the sound

Until I just feel silent

Forget to breathe, freeze, believe in destiny before it’s taken from me

Just look silent

Relieved of the scene of life inside and in front of me, a candle blown out as the time breathes me in

Just become silence

Nothing more than silence, diseased, deceased, debris, leaving the bleeding feed my sin, the end begins, to start all over again

Just Silent

Until I’ve just gone silent for the last time, until you hear me whisper, speaking my last rhyme

 

Author's Note

I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.

Reviews

[.]

"Silence speakers louder than words" This poem let's me experience through the fact.
It's really beautiful. I loved the last stanza "Until the day... Silent" It's so beautiful and smooth ending... I learn a lot from each of your composition...
Thank You for sharing this poem...Keep Writing.
Good Luck!

[...]

From my experiences on this site. People dont generaly like long writing. But i love long writing cause it give me oportunity to look on subject from more wievs than one.


I will be start crom yiur form. Size of letter is too big. My eyes are hurting and I cannot keep focus . I ussualy put pictures in between poem so reader can rest and get ready for another flow of y emotions. But thats just technical details. But i like how write without stop. It will be breat if you can read somewhere on public.


Poems no need have structure or logical pattern. They need to be trustful and feel like real human person . And your poem does have this vallues.

[charlie]

I'm betting this would make decent slam poetry (which is sometimes 'misrepresented' on the page). As a written piece you could consider building in some structure. As a performance piece, I'm sure it would hold its own.

[wordman]

silence is golden,it says so many things with your emotions,a great message
over look the idiot below me,

[Davidgeo]

Disclaimer: Don't take offense to this personally, I am only reviewing your writing not your person.

This is a convoluted mess. More is not always better, especially in poetry. Word economy in poetry is crucial to keeping the reader engaged. Using a repetitive freestyle rhyme scheme gets really old really fast when something is this long.

The rhyming was very rudimentary and had no real structure; it sounds like something a high school 'rapper' would call 'flow'. That approach does not work well in long form poetry. It becomes tired and just plain annoying to read real fast. I couldn't finish much more than half of it and I usually finish everything I start. This was not good and should be edited with a sledgehammer.

[Gee]

" Edited with a sledge hammer"
It is only 5:47 and my first chuckle of the day. Only you Sir, only you ...
Good morning

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I guess it just depends on opinion and preference. Thanks for the review all the same. I write mainly for myself, and I understand if not everyone likes the way I write. I know my poems are longer than the newspaper too, so that's a problem. Maybe just avoid the ones you don't like. I'm sure you'll find something I wrote ok, but I write in different styles to fit different moods. Not everything I write will be like this, neither will it always be your cup of tea. Thanks for the review none the less.

[R.J Calzonetti (SinisterPotatoe)]

The comment I deleted was my own, I had a spelling mistake