Beneath a sky of burning, blazing blue
The prairie’s vastness stretches, calm and wide
Where sun in glory casts its golden hue
And bold the breeze speaks secrets as it glides

Upon his horse rides the lone gunslinger
A shadowed figure, eyes dark and deep
He challenges night, that final ringer
As death’s own echo through the world shall sweep

Cacti stand tall, sentinels of the hush
Risi...

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Auschwitz is mocked; His silence condemns all

who wallow in innocent blood before a World

that cries out Shame!...He’s none...that’s wasted breath.

His quietus murders Babes with help from Hell:

whilst Heaven howls out vengeance for their deaths,

that Coward’s silence speaks with eloquence.

Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh 3rd June 2025

 

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This poem, Farewell to the Presence, draws clear inspiration from one of Sir Walter Raleigh’s poems. Echoing Raleigh’s elegiac tone and careful rhythm, it tries to explore the quiet desolation of personal loss and abandonment in contemporary life. Instead of the grandeur of a royal court or the isolation of the sea, the poem dwells on the intimate emptiness left behind in familiar space...

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May 8, 2025 – Eighty Years After War, Still Choosing Thrones At 6:08 p.m., the crowd looks on, “fumus albus“— thick and strong. Sistine‘s roof, where smoke ascends, A signal: power, that never ends. “Habemus papam“ then rings aloud, The vacancy‘s now sealed and done. A man is crowned, the crowd is proud, As if his rule were heaven’s son. A billion souls to "Papa" sworn, By cardin...

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I went to the bakery, a simple task
To buy a loaf, nothing to ask
But life, with its subtle sway
Turns the ordinary into a display

The bread, round, golden, and neat
Waited for me, a silent feat
As if it knew what I didn’t see
That I was searching, though unaware of what it could be

It looked at me with a knowing gaze
Understanding more than I in these days
Too perfect to be just a b...

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Inspired by Gerta Spieß’s haunting lines, “There’s nothing to be done,” this poem, The Weight of Indifference, examines the moral cost of inaction. It reveals how silence and apathy chain the oppressed and stain the conscience of the innocent. A call to confront the guilt born of indifference, it urges us to speak and act, even when trembling, for silence is the crime of care.

What marks the gu...

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This poem tries to explore the personal and societal consequences of living under a prospecitve dictatorship, where the truth is silenced, and freedom of the press is crushed. Through the fate of figures like Jim Acosta, the poem reflects on the heavy price of speaking out against tyranny and the loss of voice in a world where obedience reigns. A stark warning of what happens when dissent is erase...

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A haunting reflection on complicity and silence, Silent Witness tries to capture the slow erosion of solidarity in the face of oppression. With each passing stanza, the weight of inaction grows heavier—until it is too late.

They came in the night, but I turned away,
Not my fight, not my place to say.

One by one, they vanished unseen,
Yet I stood still, my hands kept clean.

When the knoc...

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There is a silence that is not silence
It is the air that refuses to enter
It is the footsteps that echo in empty corridors
the time that drags, heavy
like a body that no longer feels

Fascism does not come with noise
It comes with the absence of song
with the hand that closes around the throat
and says, "This is not pain. This is order."

But there is a light that insists
A tiny light...

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It was no longer the body I saw
It was the emptiness of its lines
the silence that stretched like an endless night
a night in which beauty is lost
what is cursed
as if beauty were a lie
and the curse, perhaps, a form of love

I saw their gaze, the beautiful and the cursed
not with my eyes, but with absence
Because who feels sees through what’s unsaid
through what dissolves in the words ...

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The silence spreads like mist
over the field that no longer exists.
The earth no longer feels the footsteps,
doesn’t remember the bodies that passed through.

The wind, a distant whisper,
carries unspoken words
and stories lost before they are told.

There is a place where time gives up
on being continuous and dissolves
into fragments of light and shadow.

Nothing is whole,
everythin...

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Flag-shaggers claim The Silence is their own:

one such, in ignorance, presumed my guilt,

and sneered: “he is alone”, but knew not why;

“He’s running free”, sez he, “why’s that allowed?”

 

I say to him: “Mate, you know bugger-all:

five comrades, blown to bits of blood and bone,

must keep their silence now, that of the grave;

the silence that I keep has been dear bought,

...

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In the vast plains of time, where the wind is lost
Man, with curious eyes, gazes at the horizon
And in the infinity of the sky, which stretches beyond being
Possibilities blossom, like stars in a distant night

What will become of me, in the paths of chance?
Which road, by the moonlight, will stretch before my step?
I feel in my chest the pulsing desire of a vast dream
But doubt, like fog,...

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Ah, to suffer,
is not just an invisible burden
that we drag through the streets of life.
It is the mark, the scar,
of existence that shapes us.

To suffer is the pain
that teaches us to see the world
with weary eyes,
where reality is not a straight line
but a labyrinth of thorns and hopes.

In the deep silence of the night,
where the moon whispers secrets of pain,
we find the echo of...

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She said 37 words in fifteen seconds on the start of the drive home. 37 words in fifteen seconds. I don’t know what she said. I was too busy counting. She says I live inside my head. I don’t think she understands the irony. 37 words, she wasn’t even breathless. I don’t know if it was an attempt to fill the silence or if it was her way of closing the distance between us by opening it, or she was si...

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Light breeze,

Flowing through your hair,

Like swift waves of silent sea.

As we hear,

Gentle rustling of leaves,

Their sound, A music indeed,

With the moon's light,

Shimmering through the sky,

Lightning our path,

Your dark eyes,

Twinkling,

Like an ocean, filled with stars.

Hear me, my dear,

I know it is hard,

But, I want you,

To forget all your worries,

...

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In pursuit of a better life

I refused to delineate boundaries

No bubble to protect my very essence from being frayed

My soul begins to rupture

Ever so slightly at first but slowly

I start to lose me at my very core

No longer recognising my own reflection

Surrounded by hyenas ready to snuff out my 

goodness at a moments notice

My laughs grow more quiet

The light in my ...

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Nothing did I swear.

Silence never so golden.

Kept my own counsell.

 

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left unperturbed

blind,

althought content

naïve to the stabbing

numbed only by the

warm trickle

promising painlessness

 

how am I left deaf

but subject to my own cries?

 

clawing, grasping

searching

for a ledge

 

a breath

 

but the stream ceases not

the currents of crimson

rising, smothering

insatiably convincing

they beckon me lovingl...

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Meet me in silence
Free from the noise of the moon
The unrequited lust for spring
Hold me without need for growth
or the raucous call of the starling
You will find the empty nest
Vacancy allows for new mergers
Even if we disassemble a fierce display
Play upon pleasured strings
Trace, finger, delicate chords
Private notes, sensual, thrilling,
They only lead us back
To silence
Yes, soli...

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The word into the world 

becomes backwards 

their ways of being change

sometimes they are silent 

sometimes they scream 

inside there is a deafness 

a space, that can make people listen 

I'm just not sure how to make them hear me...

 

 

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I twist in the night, in anger.

I wake in the morning, in anger.

I know the dreams are just dreams 

but the aching is tangible, 

it’s at the forefront that I can’t shake.

It’s too early to feel this way, with holes punctured through the heart. 

A feeling that I’ve been used as target practice.

Congratulations, you’ve won…

You’ve robbed me yet again from waking with the deli...

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A solitary pigeon perches on a telegraph pole

And sings her call.

Other than that, the world is quiet.

The constant rush of rubber on tarmac

Has finally ceased.

Gone, the mechanical birds, bees and bugs

Filling the air with their droning busyness.

The warm wind has dropped,

Hushing the rustling.

And even the neighbourhood dogs respect the silence,

Sleeping soundly.

...

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Telepathically, your thoughts race over me

They strike during the early morning hours

It’s that time again

But we won’t talk about that now

 

We’ll say so much that will fit in

The space between the silence 

But those days where we lit up the sky

We won’t talk about that now

 

But the fantasies creep in

Some days, or most days,

On what we’ve done behind locked d...

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There is no more room
for any more 
silence
in my home
or my heart

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Music floats
Through my veins,
Brings me back to
What I am.
I sing and sing again
To kill the silence outside.
My songs, directly from my heart,
My hard chords,
A resistance
Of all what's forbidden.
My passion resists
In the middle of sounds
And chaos.

©️ By Magical whispers 

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Does silence disprove existence,
or does it just mean that someone's not interested.

Living our lives,
guided by the light,
and blinded by the sound that's not present.

Lives filled with love,
love for the waves,
bird songs pushed to the direction where the wind blows.
Even the grass is singing it's story of growth.

Hearing nothingness,
when you open your mouth,
the loud silence t...

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Speaking can feel like your swallowing

So, you may as well swallow instead

Or it’s giving,

Giving and giving

Fingers down your throat,

Retching

Searching for…

Will I be stronger tomorrow?

Or just hollow tomorrow?

So, you end up filling up on someone else’s dictionary

I am disarmed without my language

But my language is disarming

Words do break your bones

Voca...

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“The ropes are fraying and soon I’ll sail”
pencilled grey
along the edge of my notebook page
a heart-breaking phrase
sure to inspire, somehow
 
Flicking through, I read it again
and pause to lament;
That boat washed out
its anchorage severed
silently, in the night
no words, no words
 
He’s gone
and into that sad darkness 
so many other ships would follow
The town seems quiet this e...

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Hello silence, my old friend.
It's good to embrace you
once again.

No flashing phones.
No clashing tones.
No distracting memes.
No broken dreams.

Just breathing in gratitude,
marinating the moment,
exhaling ego,
connecting to the prophet within.

Listening, learning, loving, 
awakened 
by the naked light you bring.

# # #

https://youtu.be/u9Dg-g7t2l4

Image by Gerd Altmann...

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When you won't back down...

The frequency of silence

That prolonged pregnant pause

Has it been days, hours or seconds?

Not sure anymore

 

Possibilities pulsating

Around this infinite space

The longer things are

Left unsaid

The harder they are to face

Still I expect the best

Still I suspect the worst

I'll give in, if you do

You have to

Say it

Fir...

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Where is the magic?

We all start out knowing magic.

We are born with hurricanes and whirlwinds,

oceans and galaxies inside us.

We are able to sing to birds and read the clouds

and see the destiny in grains of sand.

But we have forgotten the magic

and we feel without compass, alone and desperately,

only selfishness, only pain, fear and darkness.

But, magic of love has nev...

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Searching for you

You’re the word

On the tip of my tongue

- tip - tip – tick – tock

You’re the face on my clock

Yes!

You’re the catch in my breath

Like if I was to cough

Words of you

Would just tumble out

Like if I was to shout

Words of you

Would just rumble out

You’re built into my skull

You’re the clutch over my brain

You’re running through my veins

...

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i am as a sapling in the shadow of a hundred year oak
try not to breathe, not to stir
i wish to remain unnoticed at the edge of your meadow
here in my solitude
i dare not disturb this perfect silence
inexplicable and deeper than night
nothing casting it
a black shadow wavers in the bright sunlight
it covers the the meadow floor
pulling at my curiosity I am lost in it's mystery
forgetting...

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He ghosted me,

then I ghosted too.

Maybe ghosting 

spreads like the flu.

Leaves the ghosted

feeling sick and blue

when a loved one 

suddenly starts ignoring you. 

You haven't a clue 

what to do. 

So, you stay in bed, 

with the covers over your head

wishing you were dead

so you can get some relief 

from the ghosting disease.

Eventually, you get up

sal...

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Have I loved?
Yes, on the spectrum,
towards the sacrificial side.
Silencing my soul,
losing my identiy.
Endless nights
crying myself to sleep.
I sometimes think I would have
preferred an easy love
bouquets of rainbow colored daisies,
sparkling teeth,
a passionate love,
French kisses in Rome,
ruffled sheets,
a forever love,
hugs, holding hands, 
finishing each other's sentences...
...

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In silence

She stole his soul

In love

He gave his heart

What took him from his course

What gentle zephyr force

What brought him to the isle

What beauty did beguile

In silence

She sought his mind

In sorrow

He felt her tears

What held him to his aim

What subtle noble flame

What kept him on his deck

What held his lust in check

In silence

She tempted ...

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This deafening world

I feel the whole world chattering

Cannot break away

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Below the incurious sheep on the hill

                that stare at me as they endlessly chew

The sun is warm and I perch on a stone to watch quietly

As it is reflected off the surface of the lake:

                the part not covered with pond weed

                where flies dip and buzz

                dragonflies and damselflies dart

                     and hover:

    ...

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This silence brings me to chill, it makings me numb

Giving me cold treatment doesn’t help

You’re giving me a lot of messages I couldn't  comprehend

suddenly this breaking me apart

I’m not fooling around

It’s making me insane

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After a pause due to computer woes, I return to the airwaves with this offering. Its predominant theme appears to be the fear of change which, for me at least, is pervasive.

 

On The Border

The sky's dissolved in enveloping greys,

close as blankets, cold like hotel sheets;

looking over your shoulder as dawn raises day -

you test the gloaming's disdain for lamp-lit streets.

 

...

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The Voyager's Song

 

I see the shoreline,

black and unremarked

sleeping in secret, supine,

an open door, strong

as a broad Yorkshire

voice,

weak as rags of sea mist.

 

Soon I shall fetch upon its sands,

where cold silence reigns

uninvited like the early dawn.

 

Beside me shall burn,

in isolation and awe,

the last bright flower

of an ancient memory...

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The large Greek island of Naxos in the Cyclades group is an excellent example of the best of its kind, and in any era: wealthy, influential, single-minded, ancient and beautiful. The narrow passage-like streets of Chora, its major settlement, inspire in some an other-worldly sense of the preternatural, the extraordinary. Hence this speculation.

 

Distant Windows

Out of silence a figure ap...

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Today I woke Face soaked Eyes swollen. Today I woke with tears in my eyes. Drenched were the pillows on which I sleep Saturated like my soul… Finding no inspiration to leave the refuge of my bed … I sink deeper into the sodden bedding Dragging the covers over my head. Just two hours of restless slumber…two hours was all I managed. I’m exhausted but I can’t sleep… Drained…in everyway imaginable…dra...

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A cacophony of sound beats around 
inside my brain, deafening drops.

Sunday misery breaking the silence 
of yesterdays. Rainy Mondays, 
no hope for tomorrows.

We come and go. We come and go
when the floodgates of pain are open. 

Forgiveness closes doors 
left ajar in anger. 
Time moves forward, 
changes are subtle, 
inevitable. 

Hope does damage to the living dead. 

Alone in...

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The silence is deafening

 

I'm not sure when the silence stopped being calming

 

At some point the comfort of quiet turned into a prison

 

It's not that there's no sound, not exactly

 

I think I just stopped listening 

 

Now I can't listen, even if I try

 

I think I just stopped remembering how

 

It's not that I can't hear, not exactly 

 

At some poi...

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Silhouette

 

Midday's sun lifts to touch the faint horizon,

a pale discus rolling slowly along,

then gone. The lonely writer, limned in crimson

at her window desk, her ego strong,

her spirits cold as the icy scene before her,

 

shakes her head, breathes deeply, turns blind

from winter as snow begins its feathery fall;

The heater roars its warmth like an angry hin...

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You once said

that there were swans on the line,

driting in from subservient shores,

arcing in a ring of pearls.

 

Blood orange orb deflecting now

the attention someplace else.

We sat languidly, in placid mood;

I picked a fight with silence,

let the stone drop in the shallow lake

and waited for the star to burn up

in a crumpled far horizon.

But I only heard a tr...

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Plants were green as a glory
Found in the deepest forests
Feelings were taken over
Confusion was left alone in the dark
Just a glance
Would never be enough

Flesh should have been stronger
It couldn't run with the light
Many words have been left unsaid
Therefore, circumstances turned
Into unexpected fantasy

Suspisious silence knocked at the door
It put fading signs on the paper
Lef...

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When my hands begin to tremble

You’ll place your hand in mine

When my eyes become hollow

That you’ll gaze into them

When I’m at a loss for words

You’ll kiss me so the silence

Can speak for the both of us.

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