There's an unwritten poem
Hidden deep inside each of us.
Singing to a song with no lyrics.
It confines in us.
Sinking to the core,
With each scattered thought.
Aging,
In each battered heart.
It reminds us of us.
Harsh, and untitled.
Bottled up,
For the world to see.
A message,
Searching for a blank space to sleep.
A blanketed place to lay sacred
Beneath the pages.
Naked, and at peace.
At least no longer scavenging,
Savagely, for a place to feast.
Or rather, for a form to teach
A poem that has no form of speech.
Yet alone, we each have seen
And heard it speak.
Murmuring
In an unspoken tongue.
We each have at least
Heard it spoken once.
A broken language
vanished, abandoned, stranded,
on empty canvases yet painted.
Awaiting the insight of creation.
Or rather, the creative.
But, whose unfortunate impatience
For the process
Render lines vacant with inanimate objects.
Paraphrases erased from an adamant conscience.
Adopted by moments of silence.
Yet, in that sweet moment of solace,
It seems, it all becomes
All so obvious.
I was caught and reeled in by that beautiful picture you chose for this poem-and it fits so well..as there is a beautiful poem or story or dream in each one of us. I think this poem is absolutely lovely and I wouldn't change a thing. (Loved this...)
...Bottled up,
For the world to see.
A message,
Searching for a blank space to sleep.
A blanketed place to lay sacred
Beneath the pages.
Naked, and at peace. "
I was caught and reeled in by that beautiful picture you chose for this poem-and it fits so well..as there is a beautiful poem or story or dream in each one of us. I think this poem is absolutely lovely and I wouldn't change a thing. (Loved this...)
...Bottled up,
For the world to see.
A message,
Searching for a blank space to sleep.
A blanketed place to lay sacred
Beneath the pages.
Naked, and at peace. "
yeah, that Poem ... oh yeah that one ... nicely done you've caught that lingering subtle feeling even pre-language, the language of the Heart ... very nice!
words, emotions, silence, unwritten, all goes up the same way it synonymously imposed. you've written so well, i can't stop giving my thoughts. a simple topic, yet you gave an astounding thought about it, well diverse, you keep the readers think, and not to dwell on some sides it doesn't foretell any further anyway. you are focused in your aspect, and that i like the style you came about!about the poem, hmmmm, simply astounding! when silence comes it way, but emotions are all-held up within you, you can't do anything but think otherwise you are to speak an unwritten voice, and that you cannot, and still life becomes too unwell, you speak what you cannot and though you can write it otherwise, you have initiated it realistically within you... hypothalamus-ly speaking, what you write is started in it. and that you can't write because you know, what your mind tells you is more better on how you'll write it... but you already have written a wonderful piece, sang a full-emphatic song without lyrics ( oh, i like the way you've come up with, "singing a word-less song" ), even if you didn't try doing it, but you think you can... whatever the reasons, you have written an unwritten voice...within you you are already a writer of the unwritten!
I can really relate to this piece, because for the past few months I've been going through the worst block of my life. It's something that you can't explain to non-writers. I think you did a really good job of capturing the feeling.
could these be un silenced thoughts...
wow the synchronicity..
another beautiful piece...
spoken truths...
and definately there is an unspoken poem in all of us...peace
...I rode for Miles on Coltrane...became Dizzy when I met the Duke...spent the Holiday with the King...and a handsome Monk...but it was a colorful Hancock that taught me how to Cooke and Count...
- a.. more..