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Mélissa 15h
Μέσα σε όνειρα και σε εφιάλτες
Τόσες ευκαιρίες και πρόσωπα σβησμένα
Βήματα που έγιναν με βάρος και με τόλμη
Και τελικά πήγαν χαμένα

Μέσα στη ζούγκλα ένα άγριο ζώο
Που δε ζητάει ποτέ αυτό που θέλει
Βρες το κάτω από το δέρμα
Σκάψε εντός, κοίτα στον καθρέφτη

Είναι ένα παζλ που του λείπουν κομμάτια
Είναι ένα αίνιγμα που του λείπουν στοιχεία
Μια πόλη στον θόρυβο πνιγμένη
Και ποιος ο λόγος μου να μείνω;

Όπου κι αν δείχνουν τα σημάδια
Όποια κατεύθυνση κι αν δίνουν
Εκείνη─      μισεί εμένα
Και εγώ─    νιώθω το ίδιο
This is an experiment.
I never write in my native language, so I decided to translate a song of mine from english to greek and turn it into a poem.
ये कमबख्त सन्नाटा कितना शोर करता है,
ऊपर से कितनी गूंजती हैं इसकी आवाज़ें।
जब से ऊपर वाला कमरा दिया है रेंट पे,
बस सारा दिन — छे… छे…

एडवांस नहीं लिया होता,
तो कब का निकाल देता।

अब तो घर की दीवारों के भी रंग
एक से होने लगे हैं…
सन्नाटा कभी-कभी सबसे ऊँची आवाज़ करता है।
ये कविता उसी शोर की कहानी है — जहां अकेलापन, रोज़मर्रा की थकन, और भीतर की चुप्पी, एक साथ बज उठते हैं।
Can't get this page to fill
This pen is bleeding white noise

Creators are made off their failures
And achy finger joints

I'm digging untill my back breaks
Silence I won't accept

I promise
Next time I'll feel the words
I'll write
If they return
kris Apr 25
Despite the talk and chatter,
the laughter and giggles--
I find there is quiet in the noise,
just me and my mind in a silent room.
Nat Lipstadt Mar 25
The number of noise complaints in the City of New York exceeded 750,000.
<•>

that
does not
include the
shrieks and screams of the
unfriended,, unloved, overwhelmed sad l~onelys
that
have the courtesy
uncommon
to add
their cries of the heart
that are best stated, sung &
satiated & sated

s i l e n t ly
Ian Carpenter Mar 19
another brooklyn afternoon
the sound of scamps playing below
and the passing subway roar
who can ask for more
on this brooklyn afternoon
the sunshine asks
what else in store
just the shadows of curtains
and trees if you please
tempering a fading sirening
back into familiar
hums of a city that'll
never appease
as an early spring evening
settles in to say it's alright
and so long to you and
everyone, and twilight
purrs on for us and anyone
always again.
Lostling Feb 20
The claps
Explode inside my ears, thundering blanks of noise
The cheers and chatter
Whispers
Mutters
Rush into my ears like seawater, and I can't help but drown...
Static.
Static everywhere, wires zinging and zapping,
Skewer my brain and blend it into froth
Pouring out of my eyes as I squeeze them shut.
And as the frost rushes through my spine, into my lungs,
Curling its claws around my throat,
My screams for silence are just that.
Where you hear commands
I hear abuse
Where you hear applause
Only gunshots ring out for me

(Never touching uniform groups again)
I sit on the cold tile
outside my class
people walking by
cold digging into my ***

the squeak and buzz of basket ball boys
girls laughing around the corner.
I work on my project
my poems
my life

and somehow it doesn't get any warmer.
currently in the school hall because I had a panic attack again IN ******* CLASS
What the world sees
and what you think you are presenting
is not what you think it is
when I hear your gears announcing themselves
struggling and winding
slipping between their metal teeth
amplified by your modified tailpipes
I imagine a neanderthal with their sloping brow
and knuckles dragging the ground
getting up each morning late for work
when I hear you change gears from my living room
I wonder what part of you is missing
by your need to announce yourself
through your tailpipe
I want to help you look
the whole world wants to help you look
a mother’s love
to be held and cuddled and told again and again
I hear you
I am so sorry the world didn’t notice you standing there
I think you are just wonderful the way you are
there is no need to puff yourself up to compensate
let me help you find what you are missing
you broken winged butterfly
you lost adorable kitten
let me help you put yourself together again
you forty-five piece porcelain set of chipped china
Copyright all right reserved February 8, 2025
Mina Feb 4
Me
Who are you?
I shout to her from distance.
only to hear my echoes back.
maybe you're nonexistent.
Or is it me who can't see?
The noise never fades.
And I cannot set myself free.

I march through the marsh.
with the mire clinging between my feet.
The voice calls like a ripple.
Vibrating through the trees.
and the more I try to silence it.
The louder it screams at me.

I see her again - far away.
"Who are you?"
I shout from my place.
she responds back "Who are you?" just to fade again

the noise won't seem to stop.
and my feet ache from running.
I'll get myself together to turn off the yelling.
but we just meet again.
is my faith sealed around this i mumble to myself.

Who are you?
she shouts from a distance.
"Who are you" i question her back.

I don't like this place nor do i understand her.
should I just stand here and the noise will make me move again?
or should I move fearing the dark?

I sit with myself mumbling these thoughts making an annoying noise.
Then i see her one more time running through the trees.
Coming to me.
with a face annoyed and not pleased.
she shouts with her voice diseased.
"Who are you?"
do i even know the answer to the question?
perhaps, do I know me?
I just hate her, and don't wanna hear her.
she mumbles annoying noise while thinking to herself.
she's mad and doesn't wanna forgive herself.
she is just hearing her echoes!
do i give up on the noise?

Who are you?
I scream through the thick air with doubt.
“Who are you?” she question back,
But this time, the response shakes in my mouth.
She’s no stranger i know her face,
She’s the noise I’ve been trying to chase.
I run in disbelief
yet she stays in place
I remember, she’s me.
The noise never leaves, but neither will she.
I'm just trying to understand myself.
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