The train lurches forward as though it is exhausted, worn out by loud conversation and dirt stained shoes shuffling along its floors, by the stenches of alcohol and cigarette smoke that keep its passengers company and the texter marks scribbled on its walls and the old chewing gum plastered on the backs of its seats
A young university student gave up his place by the window for a middle aged lady who didn’t think to give just a single, “thank you,” or nod of acknowledgement and now he stands staring out at the last rays of sunlight reflected on the flashy tiles covering apartment buildings with tired eyes
The little boy trying to demonstrate his gaming skills on a phone with a cracked screen pesters “Mummy, Mummy,” in an effort to gain his distracted mother’s attention; the teenage girl nods her head to a beat only she can hear
The young woman with plump red lips and long fake lashes and tears inside her eyes just waiting to fall texts “I’m fine” to an internet boyfriend she’ll never meet
While the hippie with Love tattooed on both arms swears loudly at his tangled earplug chords, the woman with cut lip and a colourful bruise on her cheekbone laughs awkwardly while her loud friend makes jokes that only she believes are worth laughing at
And the man who is not so young anymore softly hums the tune to a song no one remembers; wondering why, amidst all the bustle, there dwells such a strange sense of quiet sadness
And how it has come to be that so many unconnected little worlds and broken dreams are riding together on that one crowded, lonely train.
Have You Ever Noticed
When there is no sound to be made, everything else around you seems to triple itself. Your eyes take in more, your mind tends to think more, you can feel the thrumping beat of your heart in your chest.
Though it may be a sound, your breathing becomes a soft cadence, more felt than heard but it is there.
The quiet. A time whan nothing else seems to matter. A time just for self. The quiet could be considered boredom, or planning your next idea or goal.
I see quiet as the unspoken friend. The one entity that never says a word and yet, comprehends what is taking place. Like a sponge to water, the quiet soaks everything in.
When someone says to me, "You are awfully quiet. Don't you have anything to say?" My reply is simple. "No. If I did, I would."
On the opposite side, someone might say, "Just keep quiet about this." I see that as a way of keeping a trust between two people. After all, some secrets are very cool.
Besides, when it gets loud or noisy, I cannot concentrate on the task at hand. The quiet is my space and that above all else, I treasure.
Do I listen to music when I write, of course, but there are those times when quiet rules and life just feels good.
baby is finally asleep...
for a single peep....
WILL SCREAM US TO OBLIVION AND DRIVE US RAVING MAD!
quiet falling ⋆ ★ ⋆
The moon as my witness, covering the darkness within me that threatens to be exposed, and the sun, my prosecutor, condemning me to a lifetime of illuminating my flaws and imperfections; I stand before you scarred from quiet falling stars.
Quietly & Patiently
In the heart of the cave, they slowly made their way toward the iridescent waters. They stopped to gaze in awe at the beautiful colour shining forth from the silent waters.
The leader of the crew grinned. It would soon be time for the reaping.
The rest of the crew stood side by side, ready to just enjoy the splendor of the wonders that were in the heart of the cave.
One of the folks in the crew looked back to check if the little girl was not too far behind. She wasn’t there.
The guy pushed folks to the side, trying to reach the leader and also check to see if she was maybe trying to only hide in the small crowd. When he traced the leader he asked him if he had spotted the little girl.
He shook his head and said, ‘‘We left all the children with their mothers at the camp. Only ones here are the men.’’
The guy tried to speak, but words failed to escape his mouth. He panicked the moment he saw the leader’s reflection in the waters. The little girl winked at him.
He stumbled backward and fell on his derrière. Waving his hands back and forth, then almost crawling at full speed to escape from the heart of the cave.
The only thing he heard was the sound of the deafening screams of the remaining crew. He turned around to look back— nothing- was it all in his head?
As soon as he turned his head back, the last thing he saw was a burst of light. The little girl was now in front of him!
She was in another form~ charging toward him as a beast with shark like teeth and wolverine type claws. He felt as if his heart was burning at that point.
The moment he was about to let out a scream, the girl slashed her claws across his neck. His head slid off his body with his eyes still open wide. The terror he felt could still be seen on his face.
14/04/2021 (c) #Quietly&Patiently
I can’t keep quiet
When someone says the word “quiet” my insides twist
Like a reflex, my body braces itself for derision
With knots that will secure all my vital organs
Like a sailing ship battening down the hatches for an impending storm
Because I’ve never been the quiet one.
I’ve always been told I’m too much
But the boxes they try to put me in have flimsy walls
And all of me - my pain, my laughter, my conviction
Escapes through their cracks and crevices
Sometimes knocking them down altogether
Leaving behind a smoking pile of rubble
I want to use the wood and dirt and rock to make something new
But all they see are broken things
It’s funny how when you’re told you’re too much
You immediately feel like you’re not enough
I used to shrink under the weight of those words
They’d tell me stay on the straight and narrow
But all the roads I’ve driven on are winding
And I never cared much for staying in my lane
So one day I decided that I choose Noise
The bass of my bones cannot be contained by headphones
It must be played through speakers on a concert stage
For the whole city to hear
Because I’m not something to be silenced, to be caged, to be tamed
Not only am I loud, But I’m shiny too
For years, you’ve stood in front of me
Spouting ridicule and disdain
Without realizing that my body is a mirror
And I reflect your own self-loathing
There is a reason why Dylan Thomas said
“Do not go gentle into that good night”
Because a life worth living is one where we burn brightly
Where we rage against the machine we may never escape
But from within which we can SCREAM
So loudly that we shake some pieces loose
Forever changing the way the gears turn
So the world will know we were here.
The Power of Discomfort
It is the silence
between the notes
that creates music.
It is the quiet
between the lines
that creates poetry.
It is the discipline
the human urge to fill
life is good
head thrown back
mouth wide open
scream soul wrenching,
heart cracked and bleeding
eyes squeezed shut.
right before life
as you have known it,
is a black hole
of deafening silence.
is it really quiet,
or are we just deafened by the noise?
A Harmony of Sound and Silence
Dawn comes bells are rung
alarms sound chirping abound
wind cascades childen play
the bustle of another busy day.
streets sun-lit, laughter and glit
young lovers hopes and dreams
the day ends moon descends
The air is filled with
A star filled sky
day gone by souls ascend
young love found now hidden.
streets lamp-lit strength and grit
the harmony of a somber evening
winds abate, children asleep.
stillness abound a silent sound
Dawn comes bells are rung