'stilling' poems - Hello Poetry

E. E. Cummings Jul 2009

E. E. Cummings

when my love comes to see me it’s
just a little like music,a
little more like curving colour(say
orange)
against silence,or darkness….

the coming of my love emits
a wonderful smell in my mind,

you should see when i turn to find
her how my least heart-beat becomes less.
And then all her beauty is a vise

whose stilling lips ****** suddenly me,

but of my corpse the tool her smile makes something
suddenly luminous and precise

—and then we are I and She….

what is that the hurdy-gurdy’s playing

Sylvia Plath Jun 2009

Poppies In July

Sylvia Plath

Poppies In July

Little poppies, little hell flames,
Do you do no harm?

You flicker.  I cannot touch you.
I put my hands among the flames.  Nothing burns

And it exhausts me to watch you
Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like the skin of a mouth.

A mouth just bloodied.
Little ****** skirts!

There are fumes I cannot touch.
Where are your opiates, your nauseous capsules?

If I could bleed, or sleep! -
If my mouth could marry a hurt like that!

Or your liquors seep to me, in this glass capsule,
Dulling and stilling.

But colorless.  Colorless.

Aviendha Goodrich Mar 2017

justin colter stilling

Aviendha Goodrich Mar 2017

justin colter stilling

I remember hurricane Katrina
And how it ravaged your state, you wanted to wait it out
Sit on the roof and watch the flood water disintegrate all you knew
I wasn't there but I have implanted memories of you and your father
Smoking cigarettes on top of your house
Laughing about the rage of nature
I remember skipping school in elementary
We used to walk down the paths and go into the woods and douse ourselves in creek water
And there was nothing I knew better than your face at this time
You were my brother and my best friend
And I begrudgingly remember you strung out and treating me like ****
But I knew it wasn't you who was getting kicked out of my house
It was the ******, and whatever else it might've been
I never thought you'd die alone
With not much to say for-
Not much to live for, I guess
But I knew you lived for us, Sam and I
Because when mom went you knew we needed help
And you were the big brother, and we were your precious sisters
There's nothing poetic about the way you left us at young 34 years old
And I will never forgive black tar and needles
I hope the boat you depart on burns to nothing but your ashes
And the sea takes you to a place better than ****** ever could
I never thought I'd see the day your name made it to the papers
Maybe as a success, maybe as a life that was made out to be something beautiful
But instead, I've seen you in the obituaries
Justin Colter Stilling,
That name belongs to death now.
I wish I could see you off on your trip to the other side
But instead I'll be wasting away remembering you for what you were
And it makes me wonder, how and why
We all have to die

#sad #depression #sadness #death #memories #family #rip #brother #obituary

Nat Lipstadt Jul 22

Within your violet, you treasure your summery words...

Nat Lipstadt Jul 22

Within your violet, you treasure your summery words...

<>
"And then one day you came back home
You were a creature all in rapture
You had the key to your soul
And you did open that day you came back to the garden

The olden summer breeze was blowin' on your face
The light of God was shinin' on your countenance divine
And you were a violet colour as you
Sat beside your father and your mother in the garden

The summer breeze was blowin' on your face
Within your violet you treasure your summery words
And as the shiver from my neck down to my spine
Ignited me in daylight and nature in the garden"

In the Garden,
song by by Van Morrison
<>
This touches me deep in the chest cavity,
the palpitations of its internalizing echoing cavitations,
a warning, go slow, choose your words wise and
accrue, the mood,
for the ache of creating, hurts, fevers me

for I am but steps away from the garden,
and its violet hues infused with fresh sunrising golden hazes,
with kindly warmth, with warming kindnesses,
touches,
caresses my shoulders, begs me to stop crying,
overcome, for I am overcome, eyes dropping wetting droplets,
for find myself at the intersection,
interlocking crossroads
where perfect perfection
begins and must
meet its natural endings

thoughts of capture, retentions, preservations,
all impossibilities, challenges,
see me, begging itinerant
muses
in the neighborhood
to guide my hand, teach me newsome words,
mine feel so old, so unworthy of this moment,
hearing me solicit their
Treasure of Summery
Words
but they won't,
excusing themselves,
that this in particular human has exercised, exorcised,
all the tools in his ever diminishing capacity,
time insufficient to learn a new calculus of
addition

and bid me calm my heaving chest,
seize my tears, just add them to the brackish salted waters steps
awaiting away

live in this moment
live within this poem,
revisit it frequent,
weep no more,
your stilling heart weakened,
take fast what is given now,
and be contented,
your treasury chest is full,
overflowing with this summary of
summery

but I am not, cannot…

7:48:am
jul 22

#summery #violet #words #lipstadt

beth fwoah dream May 2015

water lily

beth fwoah dream May 2015

water lily

i.

monet's passion written in
whispering tears.
the still lake smoulders
in ripples, all shadows and smoke.

a dragonfly presses the air
into whir, memories in my
pocket saddled to fire.

ii.

the air murmurs with death-shouts.

is this to sink, deep in a dungeon
of opulent blue

or to shimmer, iridescent
like a moon-lamp, empress
of ocean green and river blue
beyond the stilling light.

iii.

this is a bed of decadence
drowned moment of golden fire
in the sipped leaves that trumpet
to the clouds, that this is their day to
die.

iv.

water lily, white light of the pond
following the drowning dark,
flower of drifting quiet,
flower of dream.

v.

root treading past
the stillness of dusk,
utter existence,
daughter of the moon,
daughter of the silence.

#dream #of #stars #blue #water #river #lily

Westley Barnes Apr 2017

Stilled Life

Westley Barnes Apr 2017

Stilled Life

Though you've barely had a ramble
are no wayward canine daddy of note
that brief encounter in our brambles
has left the experts fearing a cancerous growth

So we starve you of your pine nuts and bacon rinds
so we can feed you anaesthetic
and betray you to the thief of time
only to make you, I imagine, feel pathetic
And you often so full of life's exasperate scurry

I worry
will the shine stray from your eyes
those hazel pools of so much of
my feeling mature, just for
pertaining to a creature's care

we all seem in too much of a hurry
to stifle what little spirit
that surrounds us
to wear
down on every minor aspect
of childish delight
in this silent sacrament
of the aging process
and with arguably years
of your fatherhood left
in the very ***** some dry eyed savant
decides it correct we should tamper with

Tomorrow I will snuggle you in favoured, bouncy eiderdowns
that will blanket your unknowing
and treat you as if
you were an eastering child
on cured hams and other saltiness
after you awaken
from those strangest enforcements of sleep
and through our eyes we will trade more secrets to keep

And we will hope, as we only can, that it was for the best
For you, Yorkshire's son, or Sheringham's
And consider with all of your
exhuming breath
That we meddled, stilling over life
To cheat a slightly delayed death.

This poem was written on the occasion of the final night of my Yorkshire Terrier's non-emasculated, non-nuetured era. Even in his soon to be state of infertility, I doubt we will ever see his like again, as you can't recreate perfection.

Nat Lipstadt 3d

Each of us needs a sunroom

Nat Lipstadt 3d

Each of us needs a sunroom

A follow on poem to 'In the Sunroom (Suicide)" (1)
writ many years later...
~For MWK~
<>
A stray thought. a burring burrowing, thorny tawny:

A wish, yet to get, but vetted for each of us.

This within, this redoubt, a contemplative oasis,
my indoor poet's nookery rookery sanctuary
each one, each is, deserves, all, one such,
a place holy filled, with lice and dirt of a life,
strained and trained for emission and transmission
of the best of the worst, and the triumphant emergent commission of
our individualized most excellent fresh best

where crumbs of apple crisp pie solidify, vanilla bean ice cream
melt offsets the oven heated warmth, and from this interactive
contrasts combative,
a poem pie reborn, newly disguised, familiar words,
yet unheard and before this very never,
went unspoken and now goes forth
svelte and unbroken

rhymes of yore, forgot from a before, but making up the walls
of the here and now,
a sunroom to spread out the lit lights of egress and entrance,
of fire door no exits that now are chiseled closed,
lock in, lock up, and somehow, one, stills to learn from
the stilling quiet solitude.
to penetrate the prostrate kneeling grinning grief,
how to expel and spell the words
that grant
relief

visit my sunroom, though no fiction.
the sun rays *******, create the friction
of that which cannot ever be withered nor contained,
and your mouth opens wide and a poem birthed and delivered,
a pastiche paste composted of truth and dreams of fiction,
with a shrug, a smile, a satisfaction extracted extraordinary,
you garner moments of satisfaction but the cloud cover returns,
and the process of sunrise exposition recommences,
and one revisits the elemental sequencing of
all the predecessor pain, but this time,

for gain, for gain,
<>

written this sabbath Saturday
12:38am EST
Sat Aug 2
2025
in the sunroom,
on Shelter Island

(!) https://hellopoetry.com/poem/378934/in-the-sunroom-suicide-here-are-my-truths-here-are-my-sums/

#each #us #needs #sunroom #nat #lipstadt

Kaazmeya May 2014

Lust

Kaazmeya May 2014

Lust

Tame this itch that refuses to be scratched
It starts behind the eyes, digging in your
tear ducts, pulling on irises, blowing pupils wide
Moving to lips causing a trembling, a stilling
Wet heat glides over, the pink muscle performs
Under every skin cell, the itch ripples through
Inside, the heart shivers, stomach flops, gut wrenches
Heat spreads, head to toe, burning extremities red

#love #eyes #lust #skin #body #feel #tongue #internal

Shiv Pratap Pal Jan 2019

Questions Please

Shiv Pratap Pal Jan 2019

Questions Please

Questions Please
Put up a question please
Throw me a question please
Question, any question

Burning or sensational
big or small or silly
easy or tough or absurd
hypothetical or factual

All questions are invited.
Only and only questions
No Answers at all
As I already have answers

I have answers to all the questions
that ever existed, but ceased to exist today.
I have the answers to prevailing questions
that are making us crazy day by day

I even have the answers to the questions
which are still in the future's belly
waiting to be born one day
in this beautiful and ugly world

Questions please
All sorts of questions
May be from geography or philosophy
Or from religion to defence studies

It may be from medical science or history
Or from space research too
Animal husbandry is no taboo
Questions on skydiving are also welcome

Politics is my all-time favourite
although I can answer sports or adventure
Questions on corruption are also solicited
You can ask on oceanography or calligraphy too

I know everything, literally everything
but neither I am 'Google' nor 'Bing'
I am not even 'Duck Duck Go'
nor I claim to be 'Baidu'

I guessed your question.
You are wondering – "Who am I?"
It's very-very simple Man!
I am a nasty spokesperson from the ruling party

I may be found mostly in television debates
as a panelist, as a debator, as a joker
as a disturbing element, as a liar
as a person making hue and cries

You may or may not like my answers,
but, please like me, please love me
Raise slogans for me, Praise me
Make me famous, make me a celebrity

But even if you dislike me
I don't care, I have my media
I have my own followers
I also own a troll army

I train them perfectly
I pay them heavily
I spend too much on
News media and Social media

I have my own trustworthy mob
who is always ready for violence
anytime and anywhere
at any cost whatsoever

Beware, I am from the ruling party
I inherit a complete readymade system
of Investigating agencies, Ready to book anyone
on false and frivolous grounds.

And it will take years to prove innocence
Innocence may be proved, may be disproved
This also depends on Money, Power and Links
Or the nasty arithmetic of alliance with us in future

So if you still chose to dislike me
It's your choice, but wait
I can still become a minister
Or even a prime minister

I have the quality to lure voters
I have the answers to all the questions
That ever existed or are existing
Or that are stilling waiting to be born.

I have all the answers so please throw a question to me.

#question #answer #power #money #links #media #future #system #corruption #voilence

Sa Sa Ra Oct 2012

Roaming Still

Sa Sa Ra Oct 2012

Roaming Still

When we play...---...
Is it for our better'... or
for the better equipping's
of hearts, and minds freeing
to bare our souls within
as this body of life
life has given
living still
scribbles
of scripts
positioning
composition's
bets mete bettering
to better ourselves unto
this weather of givings
whether we see it 'tis
take's or receiving's
without the grace
of a child's it is
all too much
deceiving
one's
greener
leafing's fall
blowning off 'tis
grieving's leaving
going going
glowing
gone

Gong GONG GONGING GONG GONG!!!!

a
sad
noise 'tis
@ competition
shush'... listening
did you hear that if
you don't better me
i may better you
if  you don't
win,  i win
dominion
of you
too,
am
I?
Y
my
eye'...
the pain of bye's
in natures foreboding
I
by
eye
cops
comp
cop cop
for bronze
comping copper
stamping stomping
          ramp's romping
inclination's
phrasing's
of phases
chosen's
ration's
poses
to
e
y
e
be
war's
worshiped
rule breaking
nature's fool
forsaken
lost
'---
my
Y
do odes of '--- my'...??? of the sullen
gloomy calls within the ***** of tears
in paralyzing fears or of the faceless
ruse of starkness descending upon
a dimming simmering flame
shining yet or singing
'if I had a hammer'
one hammer pounds
one above, another below
another softens the soundings
of where the cooper's barrel is at
of making a rest for dearest guests
one basket withers glittering gone sold
another is casket's for the cooling
with taken souls captured
enslaved to undo ruins
whether by a taking
this being to grave
or in misgivings
crook simply
sins  fouled
"fooled" or
schooled
a fool
feels
all,
m
I
?
Y
is it
however
that dogs are
revered and best
friends
too
be
.
Y
so
then,
what is
humanity
for food controlled
leashed, collared gate
for a lease of our
soul tethering
weakening
pained ill
limping
gait
'--- ode
to the meek
the taken
of taker's
speaking's
mistakenly
tokened
tolls.

What are
being's selling's
paths by soles paving's
for hunger's relinquishing's
as footprints trodden the
starving are solemn's
no food for souls
with out love
the broken
...---...
pitch me a sales
as i already do wail
a 'poor granted soul
in soils poor planting
or then ...---... please!!!
leave and so take
your willing
chilling
chills
sown
as ...---...
to the forsaken
who depend on that pill
for the pain and the fright
which steals our dear breath
takes wings, life and flight
death walks as much
as the grim reaper
still is brewing
opiates for
balkers
asleep
walk
bye
as
I
---
you
'--- my
gr8 greeter
called life as the living
living in memories of darkness
to the soul calling light
sleeping by day
only by night
'tis flight
...---.... 'o
deceive me deception
i made you mad
really made
therefor
eyes
shuttered
fractal spawn
i can not beat thy
blinded own childs
if eye can not control
the only owners of me
sold for the glittering scold
you would be my excuses
as a mother defends
what a man can
not achieve he
must create
pretending
it's all in
the brewing
stillery stewing
so let us all play
the game as it is
of spiritual potions
where meek meets might
in the awesome of loathings
dark-lings of fear breathing omens
while dragon's breathe fire in deep keepers
Still Our Colosseum is so Romanesque
so forgive my doting while stilling
the stiller's still and so no, no
I am not that player of so,
called so of the gaming
darlings ac-cursing of
flashings thrashing
trashing of our
lives truly
dearest
here
eye
be
to
...---...
my friends clear and
Sow the never-ending story of
Our lives more worthy nurtured of loving as
Silly Will Nilly fairy dragons fired in the natures of love with
air to wax and oils fired breathing anew guidance for misgivings of
lost roaming tillers, till within it is found the pounding of lost vile's
Pouring out transmutations of the flowering scents of forgiving
Pearly rivers torrentially rush the heavenly sendings of
Soothing balm to wounds in mending and cries of
: SOS unattended finally heard as
<3 <3's ...---... <3 <3's
in the living river
of life walked
and spoken
words
are
LOVE IN ACTION!!!!!!
DING DING DING
GONG!!!!!!!!!
<3 <3
:)
Begin again!!!
Lovingly, Ra
Sa Sa Sun
Sunny
Run
Un
1
'
.
.
.

To the Roman and lost (to all those promises) roaming's of us all and the knives and swords we each wield both ways some slicing in vain in veins and in others where hate is cleared from love as you will see, understand and accept. Yes, and still is in 'as' always and stiller-y, our brewery of soul potions more real than any witches or alchemy drink. The spirits within heart, mind, soul are the real transmutable of holy grail mountain movers, shakers, makers and breakers.

PS: ... --- ..., = SOS such is key to the rest if you would consider most other punctuation's here typical though minimally used.
The way I wrote would be as 'help' and or 'save our souls' and 'save our selves' is worth a gander; http://acronyms.thefreedictionary.com/SOS

So about read again if you read once ignoring the ...'s and or ---'s that is overly well then is why I suggest just on the one hand as far as the read is concerned anyhow the rest you know already much about take the ...'s as s's and ---'s as o's got it go go go!!! The ...---...'s are best for your hearts choosing really of course always as with all!!! >3 >3 :) :) R

PPS: Stanza from "eye am I to ... --- ... (help) my friends dear has 3 consecutive lines respectively starting with S, O, and S leading also a second set with P P S : SOS unattended finally heard as hearts help hearts ding **** gong!!!!

PPPS: take PPS: as post post script in reading down in typical fashion or as across the lines loosely cryptic as post postmortem script, or un-dead finally!!!

PPPPS: “"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?” - Alice in Wonderland quote
http://thinkexist.com/quotes/alice_in_wonderland/

******written from the left margin indeed it too would be easier to follow some of the encrypted or encoded keys; but understanding that it still can be had as in final edit it is shifted right and overall the read and shape at least on a screen with enough pixels to me seemed over all having more potency for the more willing understood albeit!! Thank You!!! Ra

What a hungry soul can do running on two grapefruits and a cup of black coffee for the day!!!!
Nite Nite!!!

<3 <3 :) R

K Balachandran Dec 2012

Tear drops shed underwater are never seen

K Balachandran Dec 2012

Tear drops shed underwater are never seen

Sliminess of the mermaid, makes me come alive, strange?
don't blame me for this, that you would think an aberration,
I've long forgotten the human logic, from the moment I realized,
fate has joined me with her, the mermaid, a  longing unfulfilled for long,

This sensual yearning sans prospect of consummation, baffles others
but not me, life has many dark alleyways that go nowhere.
Aren't we illusions ourselves?  Viewing sun's intense ways and moon's
hesitant tranquilizing gaze, through water's blue buffer is narcotic.
From under water only a  cool simmer , different experiences,
fish fin caresses, guilty pleasures of carousals with masked shark beauties,
underwater world has no pains, ever heard about
stilling pain by swimming long distant nights?
*Or is it because, I don't see my own teardrops shed underwater?

David Leger Aug 2014

Shallow Lakes

David Leger Aug 2014

Shallow Lakes

If shallow lakes hold your beauty in their waters,
I do not care to break their stilling surface,
Water lilies and reeds of wild grass do not tempt,
Because where do I find more, once the image falters
With little more than a gaze at the lilies? Their grace,
On the surface, is all they can give for an attempt.

In shallow lakes, I can see their bottom is nigh,
So to swim is not feasible, nor delightful;
To merely wade in a shallow pond — uninspiring!
Alas, to surface from deepest parts yields but a sigh,
And if waters here were to drink, it would not fill my soul,
Still beautiful to gaze upon, but after little time is tiring.

So I indulge myself in the vastness of the sea,
The depths are endless, and the storms are foul,
But in the ocean deep, when I start swimming far,
The waters are an infinite sea of fantasy,
To be swallowed whole within the temptest’s howl;
The deepest depths will heal the deepest scar.

I'm not looking for some shallow lake; I'm looking for a deep ocean to get lost in.

#love #water #soul #storm #lake #ocean #sea #deep #shallow #lilies

— The End —