When anyone tells me I can't do anything... I'm just not listening any more.
quote by Florence Griffith Joyner

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Black Bruises II
I can ponder upon the blackness,
the garrulous of silence
placated by benign solitude
I can endure the ostracizing
listening to lulling lullabies,
listening to trembling metals,
listening to enraptured echoes,
listening to a soundless shattering,
listening to nothingness,
listening to guffawing crows,
listening to diffident clocks,
listening to the waning time;
but am I the only one listening
to these black bruised whispers?
poem by Norman Santos

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Demon voice
he tells me to fight not to walk away
he tells me to scream not to talk rational
he tells me to hate not to forgive
he tells me destroy not to create
he tells me to give in
he tells me to kill
he knows i'm getting weaker
he knows it's almost his time
he knows he will be free
he knows he will have fun
he knows it will be a bloody ride to the end
he knows the end is death and so do i
poem by Paddy Jansen

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Knowledge By Demeanor
Its not the clothes that you wear--
But more the looks upon your face...
Your different expressions...
Visions i will not erase;
Its not the different hats you wear---
But more the way that you stand...
Tall or slouched over-hang dog...
Or at readied command! ;
Its not the slippers that you wear--
But more what you do with your hands...
Whether waving them or in your pocket...
Or tilling the land;
Its not the shades that you wear---!
But more the movements of your eyes...!
They tell me the most about you...!
And your shifty disguise;
Its not your pen or paper---
But more what you write...!
That tells me so much...
That sheds a clear light! ;
Yes- knowledge i gain...
And wisdom by listening with mouth closed--
Oh your demeanor tells me everything...!
I will ever need to know;
So-if you ask me: 'Whats shakin' kid? '
After watching and listening to you...! !
I'll give you an accurate answer...! !
With information i already knew! ;
May 28,2010
poem by Theodora Onken

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Every Face Tells A Story
Look at the man in the corner, hes sitting all alone
His blankets are made out of cardboard,
His pillows are made out of stone
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
See the man walking on the water, see the light in his eyes
He came into the world with a message to tell,
He came into the world to die
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Youre always telling stories, youre always telling me lies
Youre always telling stories, why?
So think of yourself in the water, seeing your days flashing by
Its too late to see what you wanted to be,
Youve spent all your time, you must die
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Every face tells a story it never tells a lie
Step down
And make it work out right
Im trying to get to you with my warning
Been there
For nearly half the night
Look its nearly four in the morning
song performed by by Cliff Richard

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Listening Week
This is the listening week of the year
Listening-in.
A-cock and alert is the national ear
Listening-in.
All over the land in the country towns,
From the back of the Leeuwin to Darling Downs,
Layers of 'quids' or the odd half-crowns,
They are listening-in.
On the far-flung farms they are round each set,
Listening-in.
The work and the worry they all forget,
Listening-in.
Wherever an aerial soars in space
To the Cup, or the Oaks or the Steeplechase,
To the roar of the ring and the lure of the race
They are listening-in.
In the far outback there are sun-tanned men,
Listening-in.
Where the woolshed stands by the drafting pen
Listening-in.
Old Dad's come in from the Ninety Mile;
He scored on the Cup and he wears a smile,
And he 'reckons this game is well worth while'
So he's listening in.
To the edge of the desert the sound-waves go;
And, listening-in,
Ned of the Overland, Saltbush Joe
Listening-in
Recall the giants of years long past,
And the loneliness of these spaces vast;
But they reckon that life's worth living at last
With this listening-in.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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Nature tells me
Nature tells me not to be proud
of my riches for I am not
much richer than her.
Nature tells me not to be proud
of my beauty for I am not
much beautiful than her.
Nature tells me not to be proud
of my kindness for I am not
much kinder than her.
Nature tells me not to be proud
of my generosity for I am not
much generous than her.
Nature tells me not to be proud
of my logicality for I am not
much logical than her.
Nature tells me not to be proud
of my judiciousness for I am not
much judicious than her.
Nature tells me not to be proud
of my poetic mind for I am not
much poetic than her.
Nature tells me not to be proud
of my prides for I am not
much prouder than her.
poem by Palas kumar Ray

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Listening
Listening.
And being there for someone loved...
To do just that!
With a mind willing,
To be receptive and clear...
Of opinions sitting,
On the tip of one's tongue.
With a giving of attention,
And staying mum.
Listening to someone.
Listening is not easily done.
For those who have experienced...
A life in which peace of mind has come.
When a listening ear,
Had not been volunteered by no one.
And some who know this...
Do their best to sit with patience.
Listening with no other reason...
But to be there as is wished.
For someone who has selected you,
Just for this.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

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0008 A Ghazal
I lie awake as the light night-rain falls, listening
to its irregularities, listening
as the breeze blows it now and then
against the window and the curtain flutters; listening
and wondering if I can hear
the rain listening
to itself, as if – I sometimes think I hear this –
there’s a moment just before it stops as if listening
to its own decision to stop, as if it sighs,
thinks, that’s enough; it could be listening
to the gratitude of the closed flowers, the wet earth,
the ecstasy of roots which are themselves listening
to the flowers sleeping, sighing in their sleep.
But do you wonder why I’m listening
instead of sleeping, this warm rainy night?
What’s so important that it needs my listening?
It was the rain that woke me; and as I turned, sighed,
it was the thought of you last night here next to me, listening
not to me, but to your own dreams – which I may never share;
though I may share you in my listening
to your sweet sleep’s breath, felt faintly on my shoulder;
and so, there’s a question in my listening –
did you awake at the same night rain, you so far away,
awake, sigh, and in your half-awakened listening
know that I too, thought of you?
Sighed that sweet thought, of our shared, single listening? …
As the perfume of a rose may be more evocative than the rose,
So sweeter, steadier than thought, dream, memory – the listening!
[A ghazal has a rhyme scheme aa ba ca da >]
poem by Michael Shepherd

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S.O.S.
Is anybody listening?
Can they hear me when I call?
I'm shooting signals in the air
'Cause I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
So I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening
Listening
I'll be standing here and I'm miles away
Making signals hoping they'd save me
I lock myself inside these walls
'Cause out there I'm always wrong
I don't think I'm gonna make it
So while I'm sitting here
On the eve of my death bed
I'll write this letter and hope it saves me
Is anybody listening?
Can they hear me when I call?
Shooting signals in the air
'Cause I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
So I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening
Listening
I'm stuck in my own head and I'm oceans away
Would anybody notice if I chose to stay?
I'll send and SOS tonight
Wonder if I will survive
How in the hell did I get so far away this time
So now I'm sitting here
The time of my departure's near
I say a prayer
Please someone save me
Is anybody listening?
Can they hear me when I call?
Shooting signals in the air
'Cause I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
So I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening
Listening
I'm lost here
I can't make it on my own
I don't wanna die alone
I'm so scared
Drowning now
Reaching out
Holding on to everything I love
Crying out
Dying now
Need some help
Is anybody listening?
Can you hear me when I call?
Shooting signals in the air
I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening?
song performed by by Good Charlotte

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Adequate Explanation
I have no adequate explanation-
I just know-because my heart tells me!
As though in a state of suspended animation,
I wait, and shall, because my heart tells me! !
They say there is a mate for each-
I say mine is you, because I feel it in my soul!
No sacrifice is too much, which leads me within your reach-
I know-because I feel it in my heart, which you stole!
I have no doubts, we are a Divine truth-
You know-because your heart tells you so;
I just believe, I need no form of proof-
You believe-because your heart tells you so!
I know it is but a matter of where, when or how-
Yet, because my mind tells me so, I wish it were now!
Maurice Harris,3 March 2010
poem by Maurice Harris

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Authenticity is the ability to listen to what nature tells us. Listening isn't the same thing as never making a mistake, but the important thing is to learn.
quote by Gerard Depardieu

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Lyric 5: staggered assonance
the singing in the living, listening heart
tells love in whispers; and the heart is always
listening; for that heart is always bliss; all
hearts in all ways, blest by ceaseless love;
the blaze of bliss in life is our soul’s singing;
this peace, our life as winging gift that’s blest;
its light brings love, sings peace, and brims the heart.
(An experiment in assonance without rhyme: the assonances are in a staggered sequence through the lines)
poem by Michael Shepherd

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Straight Talk
You say youre well and satisfied,
But your body tells me something else.
What is it, baby? tell me, tell me,
Speak up, give it to me straight
Or well never know what you think or what you want.
She says shes truly gratified,
But her voice tells me something else.
What is it, baby? tell me, tell me,
Speak up, give it to me straight
Or well never know how you feel or what you want.
Unless we teach each other what we really feel,
How are we gonna communicate and get ourselves together?
He says hes never petrified,
But his eyes tells me something else.
What is it, baby? tell me, tell me,
Speak up, give it to me straight
Or well never know what you need or what you want.
Unless we teach each other what we really feel,
How are we gonna communicate and get ourselves together?
Im watching your body talk,
Im listening to your double talk.
Straight talks the only way,
Straight talks the shortest way
For you and i.
Im watching your body talk,
Im listening to your double talk.
Straight talks the only way,
Straight talks the shortest way
Then the world is one.
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
song performed by by Yoko Ono

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Straight Talk
You say youre well and satisfied,
But your body tells me something else.
What is it, baby? tell me, tell me,
Speak up, give it to me straight
Or well never know what you think or what you want.
She says shes truly gratified,
But her voice tells me something else.
What is it, baby? tell me, tell me,
Speak up, give it to me straight
Or well never know how you feel or what you want.
Unless we teach each other what we really feel,
How are we gonna communicate and get ourselves together?
He says hes never petrified,
But his eyes tells me something else.
What is it, baby? tell me, tell me,
Speak up, give it to me straight
Or well never know what you need or what you want.
Unless we teach each other what we really feel,
How are we gonna communicate and get ourselves together?
Im watching your body talk,
Im listening to your double talk.
Straight talks the only way,
Straight talks the shortest way
For you and i.
Im watching your body talk,
Im listening to your double talk.
Straight talks the only way,
Straight talks the shortest way
Then the world is one.
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
(straight talks the only way)
(straight talks the shortest way)
song performed by by Yoko Ono

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Listening To Hearts In Need
listening to need in others
listening to need in voices
is a layman's confessional
our listening without comment
without bias prejudice judgement
helps people in need define accept
within themselves
changes life decisions
they need to make
poem by Terence George Craddock

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I would rather do a play because it's instantaneous. You go on the stage, and you know whether it's happening or not. Somebody asked me "what is acting?" And I said, "acting is listening." And if you ain't listening, nobody's listening.
quote by Charles Durning

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Value of Rubies
Virtuous woman
Valued beyond rubies
Till time and wear
and truth and tear
steals the light
Better for value are you
women of ill repute
in dimly lit
alleys and taverns
Who, when paid:
Tells you they love you
When you know they don't
Tells you to trust them
When you know you can't
Tells you this matters
When you know it doesn't
Though who tells you
they stay
by the hour
till time is up
and do
and you sit in bed
smoking
watching
her ass
as she leaves
Glowing ember
turning to ashes
flickers, fails
and finally
dies.
poem by Carsten Thomsen

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Nobody's Listening
I have a heart full of pain,
I tried to give you everything,
But I noticed that nobody’s listening,
I tried to warn you,
I told you everything I know,
But nobody’s listening,
Thank you for ignoring me,
Giving me this heartache,
You caused me to see what was unknown from the start,
I want hear you say those words,
That you don’t love me no more,
Want to hear you say you hate me,
I knew this was never real,
I have so much pain that can not understand,
But nobody’s listening to me,
Ignore me, hate me, punch me,
Just let me know that you weren’t listening to me from the start.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau

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Responsibility From The Words Of Grandpa
we all eat together
partake the white rice and the
fried fish
and home made coffee
every breakfast
as he tells stories
about his exploits during
World War II
and then when everyone is
finished listening to
every word
from his mouth placed
on his square jaws
he makes the last remark
that the last one to leave
shall wash all
the plates
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

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Mr. Green
Green leaves tell you
How green your mind is,
Wide boroughs tell you
How broad your mind is,
Velvet grasses tell you
How soft your hair is,
Clean water ponds tell you
How your tears are,
White clouds tell you
How your floating thoughts are,
Birds in group tell you
How you enjoy friend’s company,
Peacock tells you
How you dance in rain,
Lion tells you
How to react with pride,
Deer tells you
How you enjoy your freedom,
And environment tells you
How you can become Mr. Green.
poem by Biswajit Ganguly

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