With every sound
and each word uttered
there is pause,
as if waiting for the touch
of a lover – distant still,
but out there.
Until such time,
words float as poetry
until caught and lightly wrought
on cool staves,
and as they stir,
no tone is forced, harsh
and breathy –
they wait and would wait
as every song, like love,
until it hears its own echo.
Poetry dances me,
with its incorrigible vice.
In the beauty of silence
naked jawbones crack
a fleshless shudder.
Torrid words smirk,
as they fall into your walnut air
in small pieces.
Particles, heavy of scent,
from my mouth
into this silence –
silence is the page we write on –
dance with me.
Picture: Oharo koson
Fragrant rose petals pouring
Day 130/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog
In a chamber of echoes
Its voice goes unheard
Day 117/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog
Listen to silence
Speak when the need moves our hearts
Hear the words of peace
Day 99/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog
deep within where silence stirs
winter’s raw fragrance
Day 86/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog
Grasping branches learn
that hushed air cannot be caught
nor wind be courted
Day 84/365 – Morgan’s #DailyHaikuChallenge. Join in and link back to her blog
rests at sunrise,
golden clouds on the looms that are
lies inside stone
embedded in mountains,
securing roots in noiseless cracks,
About my life and everything else 🙌 Inst:@nihilnove
by *paige six
... from a silent space
The Broken Cannot Rise Alone...
A Repository of Discarded Poetry, Story Prompts, and Memories
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Pain goes in, love comes out.
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poetry by Robert Ford
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