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LAN Youth Poetry
What Does Silence Sound Like?
Nilah Brielle Harris
What does silence sound like?
Does it have a voice?
Does it shout or does it whisper?
Is it mourning or rejoice?
Does it have a voice?
Does it shout or does it whisper?
Is it mourning or rejoice?
Is silence quiet?
Quiet as a mouse?
Quiet as the skeletons
In the closet of my house?
Quiet as a mouse?
Quiet as the skeletons
In the closet of my house?
Is it quiet as the truths?
Quiet as the lies?
Quiet as the history
We bury deep inside?
Quiet as the lies?
Quiet as the history
We bury deep inside?
Is silence loud?
Does it make a heavy noise?
As it seeps into the cracks
Expands into the void?
Does it make a heavy noise?
As it seeps into the cracks
Expands into the void?
Is it loud as a bell?
Ringing in my ear?
Desperate for attention
Saying, listen! I’m over here!
Ringing in my ear?
Desperate for attention
Saying, listen! I’m over here!
Is silence nothing?
Like an empty vase?
Like the stillness of the idols,
That decorate my place?
Like an empty vase?
Like the stillness of the idols,
That decorate my place?
Is silence something?
Maybe something more?
Greater than the meaningless words
That you exhort?
Maybe something more?
Greater than the meaningless words
That you exhort?
Is it confusion?
When darkness swallows the light
When I’m searching for answers
And there are none in sight?
When darkness swallows the light
When I’m searching for answers
And there are none in sight?
Is silence awkward,
When I don’t know what to say?
When it feels like eyes are all on me
But my thoughts are in the way?
When I don’t know what to say?
When it feels like eyes are all on me
But my thoughts are in the way?
Is silence a beast
We’d rather not disturb
Because it will challenge our complacency
And force us to mature?
We’d rather not disturb
Because it will challenge our complacency
And force us to mature?
Is silence lonely,
When everyone has left?
And it’s just the beating of my heart
And the shaking of my breaths?
When everyone has left?
And it’s just the beating of my heart
And the shaking of my breaths?
Is silence the sound
Of things passing by
Of songs we never sing because
We’re always too shy?
Of things passing by
Of songs we never sing because
We’re always too shy?
Is silence the end?
When time has run its course?
When the candles have all burnt out
And there’s no time for remorse?
When time has run its course?
When the candles have all burnt out
And there’s no time for remorse?
Is silence the beginning?
The calm before the storm?
When we hold our breaths
As the clouds begin to form?
The calm before the storm?
When we hold our breaths
As the clouds begin to form?
Is silence the beginning?
The calm before the storm?
When we hold our breaths
As the clouds begin to form?
The calm before the storm?
When we hold our breaths
As the clouds begin to form?
Does silence have potential?
Like the canvas before the paint?
The wretched, abandoned house
Before the dust is swept away?
Like the canvas before the paint?
The wretched, abandoned house
Before the dust is swept away?
Is it music?
The rests between the beats?
The pauses in the melody
In the spaces of the keys?
The rests between the beats?
The pauses in the melody
In the spaces of the keys?
Is silence the space,
Where I can be myself?
Where I can pour out my heart
And take it off the shelf?
Where I can be myself?
Where I can pour out my heart
And take it off the shelf?
Is it peaceful?
Like the eye of a storm?
When I lie in the grass
While the sun gives its warmth?
Like the eye of a storm?
When I lie in the grass
While the sun gives its warmth?
Does silence listen
To the words that say?
Does it wrap its arms around me
And tell me it’s ok?
To the words that say?
Does it wrap its arms around me
And tell me it’s ok?
Can silence be beautiful?
When I grasp it in my hands?
When i look at all its colors
And I begin to understand?
When I grasp it in my hands?
When i look at all its colors
And I begin to understand?
What does silence sound like?
Is it quiet, is it loud?
Does it shout or does it whisper?
Is it humble, is it proud?
Is it quiet, is it loud?
Does it shout or does it whisper?
Is it humble, is it proud?
What does silence sound like?
Can you hear its call?
The way it sounds like everything
And yet, nothing at all.
Can you hear its call?
The way it sounds like everything
And yet, nothing at all.
Echoes in My Neighborhood
Abigail Delilah Aguilar
So-called “animals” crawling to be free in the torture of hell,
Rage in the heart,
A loud desperation deep in the quickly dying spirit.
You cross borders with dreams, only to be told to leave your soul behind.
Rage in the heart,
A loud desperation deep in the quickly dying spirit.
You cross borders with dreams, only to be told to leave your soul behind.
Dark or light skin,
Brown, blue, green eyes,
English or your native language
It holds no value in a world full of opportunities only designated for the privileged.
Brown, blue, green eyes,
English or your native language
It holds no value in a world full of opportunities only designated for the privileged.
Take away the benefits from the outsiders,
Making it a “safer” place only for the “right” race.
They take away your labor but not your light.
But to the families searching for home in a land that calls you foreign
You belong, despite this world full of woe.
Making it a “safer” place only for the “right” race.
They take away your labor but not your light.
But to the families searching for home in a land that calls you foreign
You belong, despite this world full of woe.
Once there were echoes of love, divine, radiance, and home.
Now so empty in a world that turned cold,
The people so enraged at the words already written in stone.
A soul unrooted, haunted by ICE.
Now so empty in a world that turned cold,
The people so enraged at the words already written in stone.
A soul unrooted, haunted by ICE.
The echoes I wish to hear are tranquility.
All that surrounds me is oblivious.
One day someone will open their eyes and question the whole,
And realize we are human too —
Born to love, live, and grow,
Not to survive and be surrounded by fear.
All that surrounds me is oblivious.
One day someone will open their eyes and question the whole,
And realize we are human too —
Born to love, live, and grow,
Not to survive and be surrounded by fear.
So once again, the echoes we hear will be loud and clear.
And We will feel no fear.
Those are the echoes I hear in my once beautiful neighborhood.
And We will feel no fear.
Those are the echoes I hear in my once beautiful neighborhood.
