It came unexpected. Loudly bolting down the hallway, like a flash in a pan. Again, it had happened, again it would happy. A splinter in oblivion, of pastimes and good times. Unfortunately for Jon, that was all it was. Another reverie of a life he’d long since forgotten. He swept a greasy lock of hair from his eyes to see clearer, but the world was getting darker. Darker and, perhaps quietly, he thought: better.
I don’t know how much more invisible I can be. I’ve sat here for nearly two hours, just watching them. They’re laughing, talking, watching TV, eating dinner. They’re a family. Two boys, one very young girl. She was probably an accident. I guess like me. I should be in that family. Those are, after all, my parents. The trouble is, I’ve never met them.
Beka
1.The opposite of this
WHAT IS LOVE, BABY DON’T HURT ME, DON’T HURT ME, NO MORE
2. if sex is like this, it’s going bad
Someone
who knew
that love could be quiet
that a constant stir and
a million chemical reactions
could be so loud inside
but result in a silent smile
Quietly she spoke out
Quietly she began to shout
Quietly she spoke her word
Quietly she was never heard
Quietly she made demand
Quietly is how she was damned
Erica
You vanished from my life, quietly…
You came in my life, blissfully.
I’ll remember you eternally…
Marina
I quietly stepped out on the landing, hoping he would not notice and that I could slink by him without a trace. He was snoring noisily in the bed with his lower lip relaxed like a sleeping puppy spread on the sheet.
Sarah Lay
Quietly I ran to the door in fear of another explosion. The night was one that I will never forget. Civil unrest had erupted in the country and everyone was seeking shelter from the bombs and artillery shells that was exploding all around them. This was to be my first visit to an African country, and I was very disappointed.
It was somber, almost, the mood in the air. The boisterous laughter and jeering turned to murmurs. A chill swept through the hall. The silhouette, outlined in light, was frozen like the rest of them.
no im deadllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllllllllllllalaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Cara Smythe
Death is a stealthy master, creeping up the stairs and into the room when no one’s looking. I had my eyes on the floor, to watch the way the shadows lengthened and grew when the sun was sliding down the horizon, so I didn’t see her breathe her last. I heard the gasp, though, and raised my eyes to the aftermath.
He was at his fourth bar of the evening, and the whiskey, even though it was well watered, was beginning to make him drowsy. The Mama had gone to entertain other customers, and he was left alone with a pretty young hostess in a yellow dress. They had both reacted when he asked about the girl, pretending to be a regular customer of hers. The Mama seemed offended, as if he was implying the girls she was presenting that evening were not good enough for him, and had left them in a rather bad mood. But once she was gone, the other hostess said to him quietly. “You shouldn’t bother with her, if she hasn’t gone back home, I bet she’s run off with her boyfriend!”
tonykeyesjapan
it starts out like this:
for every hand held underneath tabletops, he’s a chase in the frozen food aisle with kisses as consolation prize. for every peck stolen underneath sheet covers, he’s a warm grip on your shoulder when he introduces you to his friends as his girlfriend, smiling not at them but at you, as though the introduction wasn’t made for their benefit at all. for every murmur buried into the pocket of his neck, he’s all three letter words and the gusto that comes with admission. he’s all the feelings left unsaid.
it ends like this:
his hand stretches over the doorknob, pausing for a moment. in another time you’d think this was hesitance, but you know better. he turns, eyes tucked-tail and resigned. “you never once told me you loved me, you know? not once.”
Everything comes to a complete stop
As she stares into the middle distance
There is nothing in the silence
and she can’t see tomorrow
She wishes that everything could be easy
but it’s not
The sun sets below the horizon.
She doesn’t want to wake up in the morning.
He and I lay next to each other in the darkness. He says, “Baby…” I quietly reply, “Yes, darling…” He whispers, “You truly are my one and only, never forget it.” And I never did.
Alyx
They say she doesn’t have a name; some say she never has. Still, her reputation precedes her. They say she moves quietly, silently, really; like a living shadow, she’s there and then not, more elusive than the wind itself. They say she’s beautiful, an angel sent from Hell. They say she isn’t human; they say she has no soul. I say it doesn’t matter; any of it.
Because no matter what else she is or isn’t, she IS the Hunter.
And, tonight, she comes for me.
Cold and quiet mornings. Mist that freezes the face when you lean out of the window sill. Fog fades into the trees. Everything is a dream. Warm socks and hot coffee.
Makena
dr seuss words to describe
the sunset because your mind
can’t process the letters anymore;
sobriety brings more disorientation,
receptors lacking the connection to
hang and grow like trees,
bug-infested, but alive, fearing
and yearning the warmth of liver-fires
and waiting for the rain.
Quietly, I blew into the lip of the saxophone with all the power in my lungs
Quietly I dropped the bowling ball onto the dense cement floors
Quietly I roared like a lion
Quietly I lit the screaming fireworks
Quietly I made the kettle whistle
Quietly I got over our affair
Nicolas Kurzhit
she quietly tiptoed through the dark house. she didnt kno where she was going or how to get there but the voice inside her head just told her to keep moving. she wasnt sure why but the feeling in her gut told her to keep quiet, to tread as silently as she could or else terrible things would happen. and so she braced herself against the wall and inched slowly forward.
erika
“Quietly.” She told him, nudging the gun barell into his back. He toed his way through the creaking floorboards, but with each step they yawned miserably. She clenched her teeth and waved the gun up and down, a command for the sound to cease, but the creaking continued. Up the stairs, a light flicked on, and a fragile, broken voice came out from the doorway. “Hello?”
Two shots were fired.
Quietly, I turn into a creep. Constantly looking for you with only one tiny clue and a stockpile of hearsay. It distresses me to know I will never see you again, Thor. And I’m just trying to prevent that.
Ella Emma Em
“I suggest you leave quietly,” I intoned from behind my helmet’s visor, pointing my spear directly at the bare-chested man’s chest. “Before you and your friends get hurt.”
The man with no armor or weapons didn’t seem fazed. He simply cracked the knuckles on his right hand, which alarmed me. No person would exude such confidence unless he was either a full-blown idiot or a mastermind with a few tricks up his sleeve. Slowly, I lowered my weapon.
“What is it that you want?” I heard my voice hum.
The man’s eyes brightened. “Your company.”
Belinda Roddie
The cat quietly walked into the room thinking his owner did not see him but she did, and she knew he was sneaking up on her and she smiled.
It was silent. It was always silent in this room.
No one here but she. It was always only she.
He was gone – no where to be found.
No where.
She sat in the silent room.
Quietly.
No one heard her crying.
dayna
She made sure to move very quietly, as not to wake the child she’d just spent so long trying to get to sleep. It was such a relief to no longer hear the cries of her baby, to know that the child was finally getting the rest it needed and wasn’t suffering in any way. A stream of air was pushed through her lips as she exhaled.
The air was still as we sprawled quietly beneath a canopy of stars. Verdant clovers ushered forth the memories of summers long passed and you kissed me like we were young and fearless again.
Chloe
She walks into the room quietly and over to the crib. She looks down at the newborn baby noticing the beautiful slate gray eyes looking up at her. She smiles, and it grows bigger when the baby smiles back at her, the baby’s eyes lighting up.
Stephanie
I live in a world where language is considered a disease. We do not speak to one another with sounds, but looks and glances as well as some hand motions. Living with one another like this has brought our planet peace.
theavidpatient
slowly, recognition flooded in
like the water
in which he was submerged
pushed under
struggling against the onslaught
as all the pieces fell into place
one flash of light after another
as the life he thought he knew ebbed away
becoming a blur
now he understood
all to clear, he ceased to struggle
allowing her to hold him down
one by one all of her began to dissipate
to disappear
each version fading from existence
he let the quiet darkness envelope him
as he watched the last of her waver
the final variations
knowing they each were being erased
ending all the destruction they had sown
My toes nudged the ground as i silently crept throughout the house. it was the witching hour. or as i call it, the “eat everything in sight before your parents yell at you hour.”
A whisper. A gentle caress of the cheek. The only sounds to be heard are those of each others breathing.
pl
She walks quietly over the blue
and deep ocean; she stands with her
pale hands laying in her sad lap
on a small and fragile bridge:
the blood-ish sky mingles with
the dark water and everything
seems so futile and little and useless.
She doesn’t dare even taking a breath:
those clouds could rolling down into
her weak mind: she could not resist.
So she looks at the horizon with
teary eyes – wondering about
something better – something brighter.
i cant do stuff quietly loud loud loud loud scream but i am quiet i am so quiet i am screaming but silently n i hate it but i love it i cant do it can i
Rose
Je marche. Encore. Et encore. Les autres regarde ailleurs, vers leurs propre destination, mais aucun d’eux ne m’entend.
Quiet than unusual the night seemed today. This is usually unlike my hood where thugs and thieves hang out.
It came unexpected. Loudly bolting down the hallway, like a flash in a pan. Again, it had happened, again it would happy. A splinter in oblivion, of pastimes and good times. Unfortunately for Jon, that was all it was. Another reverie of a life he’d long since forgotten. He swept a greasy lock of hair from his eyes to see clearer, but the world was getting darker. Darker and, perhaps quietly, he thought: better.
I don’t know how much more invisible I can be. I’ve sat here for nearly two hours, just watching them. They’re laughing, talking, watching TV, eating dinner. They’re a family. Two boys, one very young girl. She was probably an accident. I guess like me. I should be in that family. Those are, after all, my parents. The trouble is, I’ve never met them.
1.The opposite of this
WHAT IS LOVE, BABY DON’T HURT ME, DON’T HURT ME, NO MORE
2. if sex is like this, it’s going bad
who knew
that love could be quiet
that a constant stir and
a million chemical reactions
could be so loud inside
but result in a silent smile
Quietly she spoke out
Quietly she began to shout
Quietly she spoke her word
Quietly she was never heard
Quietly she made demand
Quietly is how she was damned
You vanished from my life, quietly…
You came in my life, blissfully.
I’ll remember you eternally…
I quietly stepped out on the landing, hoping he would not notice and that I could slink by him without a trace. He was snoring noisily in the bed with his lower lip relaxed like a sleeping puppy spread on the sheet.
Quietly I ran to the door in fear of another explosion. The night was one that I will never forget. Civil unrest had erupted in the country and everyone was seeking shelter from the bombs and artillery shells that was exploding all around them. This was to be my first visit to an African country, and I was very disappointed.
It was somber, almost, the mood in the air. The boisterous laughter and jeering turned to murmurs. A chill swept through the hall. The silhouette, outlined in light, was frozen like the rest of them.
It couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t be.
It wasn’t.
no im deadllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaallllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllllllllllllllalaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Death is a stealthy master, creeping up the stairs and into the room when no one’s looking. I had my eyes on the floor, to watch the way the shadows lengthened and grew when the sun was sliding down the horizon, so I didn’t see her breathe her last. I heard the gasp, though, and raised my eyes to the aftermath.
He was at his fourth bar of the evening, and the whiskey, even though it was well watered, was beginning to make him drowsy. The Mama had gone to entertain other customers, and he was left alone with a pretty young hostess in a yellow dress. They had both reacted when he asked about the girl, pretending to be a regular customer of hers. The Mama seemed offended, as if he was implying the girls she was presenting that evening were not good enough for him, and had left them in a rather bad mood. But once she was gone, the other hostess said to him quietly. “You shouldn’t bother with her, if she hasn’t gone back home, I bet she’s run off with her boyfriend!”
it starts out like this:
for every hand held underneath tabletops, he’s a chase in the frozen food aisle with kisses as consolation prize. for every peck stolen underneath sheet covers, he’s a warm grip on your shoulder when he introduces you to his friends as his girlfriend, smiling not at them but at you, as though the introduction wasn’t made for their benefit at all. for every murmur buried into the pocket of his neck, he’s all three letter words and the gusto that comes with admission. he’s all the feelings left unsaid.
it ends like this:
his hand stretches over the doorknob, pausing for a moment. in another time you’d think this was hesitance, but you know better. he turns, eyes tucked-tail and resigned. “you never once told me you loved me, you know? not once.”
Everything comes to a complete stop
As she stares into the middle distance
There is nothing in the silence
and she can’t see tomorrow
She wishes that everything could be easy
but it’s not
The sun sets below the horizon.
She doesn’t want to wake up in the morning.
He and I lay next to each other in the darkness. He says, “Baby…” I quietly reply, “Yes, darling…” He whispers, “You truly are my one and only, never forget it.” And I never did.
They say she doesn’t have a name; some say she never has. Still, her reputation precedes her. They say she moves quietly, silently, really; like a living shadow, she’s there and then not, more elusive than the wind itself. They say she’s beautiful, an angel sent from Hell. They say she isn’t human; they say she has no soul. I say it doesn’t matter; any of it.
Because no matter what else she is or isn’t, she IS the Hunter.
And, tonight, she comes for me.
In the woods, I followed the scent of a young girl … she was worried, I could tell. She needed help.
So I helped her as I would any human. I killed her.
I bit into her flesh as she screamed, though I was trying to do this quietly… but dinner was served.
the deep baseline
snakes through my core
as your words of ecstasy
fill me giddy shakes.
your mouth words at me
almost
lovingly.
i can’t hear a thing
Quietly, I crept across the living room hoping no one would find me but just about same time, I heard the door to kitchen open.
Cold and quiet mornings. Mist that freezes the face when you lean out of the window sill. Fog fades into the trees. Everything is a dream. Warm socks and hot coffee.
dr seuss words to describe
the sunset because your mind
can’t process the letters anymore;
sobriety brings more disorientation,
receptors lacking the connection to
hang and grow like trees,
bug-infested, but alive, fearing
and yearning the warmth of liver-fires
and waiting for the rain.
mhmm
Quietly, I blew into the lip of the saxophone with all the power in my lungs
Quietly I dropped the bowling ball onto the dense cement floors
Quietly I roared like a lion
Quietly I lit the screaming fireworks
Quietly I made the kettle whistle
Quietly I got over our affair
she quietly tiptoed through the dark house. she didnt kno where she was going or how to get there but the voice inside her head just told her to keep moving. she wasnt sure why but the feeling in her gut told her to keep quiet, to tread as silently as she could or else terrible things would happen. and so she braced herself against the wall and inched slowly forward.
“Quietly.” She told him, nudging the gun barell into his back. He toed his way through the creaking floorboards, but with each step they yawned miserably. She clenched her teeth and waved the gun up and down, a command for the sound to cease, but the creaking continued. Up the stairs, a light flicked on, and a fragile, broken voice came out from the doorway. “Hello?”
Two shots were fired.
Quietly, I turn into a creep. Constantly looking for you with only one tiny clue and a stockpile of hearsay. It distresses me to know I will never see you again, Thor. And I’m just trying to prevent that.
“I suggest you leave quietly,” I intoned from behind my helmet’s visor, pointing my spear directly at the bare-chested man’s chest. “Before you and your friends get hurt.”
The man with no armor or weapons didn’t seem fazed. He simply cracked the knuckles on his right hand, which alarmed me. No person would exude such confidence unless he was either a full-blown idiot or a mastermind with a few tricks up his sleeve. Slowly, I lowered my weapon.
“What is it that you want?” I heard my voice hum.
The man’s eyes brightened. “Your company.”
The cat quietly walked into the room thinking his owner did not see him but she did, and she knew he was sneaking up on her and she smiled.
It was silent. It was always silent in this room.
No one here but she. It was always only she.
He was gone – no where to be found.
No where.
She sat in the silent room.
Quietly.
No one heard her crying.
She made sure to move very quietly, as not to wake the child she’d just spent so long trying to get to sleep. It was such a relief to no longer hear the cries of her baby, to know that the child was finally getting the rest it needed and wasn’t suffering in any way. A stream of air was pushed through her lips as she exhaled.
The air was still as we sprawled quietly beneath a canopy of stars. Verdant clovers ushered forth the memories of summers long passed and you kissed me like we were young and fearless again.
She walks into the room quietly and over to the crib. She looks down at the newborn baby noticing the beautiful slate gray eyes looking up at her. She smiles, and it grows bigger when the baby smiles back at her, the baby’s eyes lighting up.
I live in a world where language is considered a disease. We do not speak to one another with sounds, but looks and glances as well as some hand motions. Living with one another like this has brought our planet peace.
slowly, recognition flooded in
like the water
in which he was submerged
pushed under
struggling against the onslaught
as all the pieces fell into place
one flash of light after another
as the life he thought he knew ebbed away
becoming a blur
now he understood
all to clear, he ceased to struggle
allowing her to hold him down
one by one all of her began to dissipate
to disappear
each version fading from existence
he let the quiet darkness envelope him
as he watched the last of her waver
the final variations
knowing they each were being erased
ending all the destruction they had sown
“there’s always a lighthouse”
My toes nudged the ground as i silently crept throughout the house. it was the witching hour. or as i call it, the “eat everything in sight before your parents yell at you hour.”
A whisper. A gentle caress of the cheek. The only sounds to be heard are those of each others breathing.
She walks quietly over the blue
and deep ocean; she stands with her
pale hands laying in her sad lap
on a small and fragile bridge:
the blood-ish sky mingles with
the dark water and everything
seems so futile and little and useless.
She doesn’t dare even taking a breath:
those clouds could rolling down into
her weak mind: she could not resist.
So she looks at the horizon with
teary eyes – wondering about
something better – something brighter.
i cant do stuff quietly loud loud loud loud scream but i am quiet i am so quiet i am screaming but silently n i hate it but i love it i cant do it can i
Je marche. Encore. Et encore. Les autres regarde ailleurs, vers leurs propre destination, mais aucun d’eux ne m’entend.