It is no use speaking in soft, gentle tones if everyone else is shouting.
quote by Joseph Priestley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shouting...
i cannot sleep for this constant shouting...
the shouting of trees, the shouting of alleyways,
the shouting of rats crawling through trash.
the shouting of needles and Family Bibles,
the shouting of flags folded and given.
the shouting of machines, abandoned and morose,
the shouting of fields gone barren.
the shouting of poverty ripping color from being,
the shouting of hunger in faces silent.
the shouting of guns loaded and unloaded,
the shouting of clinics, filled without names.
the shouting of prayers wriiten in pavement,
the shouting of rivers filled with sewage.
the shouting of birth, and the shouting of death...
the shouting of love, distant and forgotten.
the shouting of god, in doubt's innumerable forms.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Whisperings
Come closer
and whisper to me
from deep within.
I listen because your soul
speaks to me in quiet
pillow breaths;
its soft tones
are decibels
to my open heart beating.
Come close as I anticipate
ecstasies quietly rendered;
Yours and Mine.
Soft tones meditate
and separate
True-ness from background noise.
Come close because
I am listening for soul stirrings
in the cross whisperings
sculpting our intimate
moments
where in whispered connections
our love grows;
our minds reel;
our mouths touch;
all this on that gentle breeze
whispers make
allowing
humans to grow
flowers on their souls.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Nice Speach
Dog see
Another dog...
On the street....
Wow wow...
Dogs speaking
For shouting...
But...
Lovingely
Two dogs are
speaking...
Very nice....!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Is There Anyone Out There?
Staring at the stars at night
it makes you wonder
if this is the only planet with life
in the vastness of space.
You feel like shouting at times.
Is there anyone out there?
People see things in the night sky
that they cannot explain.
Even in the daylight
mysterious objects appear unexplained
and all the time you feel like shouting.
Is there anyone out there?
Years from now when
we might have learned to listen,
we might find someone else
is really out there listening
to us shouting.
Is there anyone out there?
It is quite possible one day
in the truth we might find
that all the time we’ve been shouting
someone else has been out there
shouting back at us too.
Is there anyone out there?
21 February 2011
poem by David Harris
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The Battle Cry of Freedom- Union
Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys,
We'll rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom,
We will rally from the hillside,
We'll gather from the plain,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.
CHORUS: The Union forever,
Hurrah! boys, hurrah!
Down with the traitors,
Up with the stars;
While we rally round the flag, boys,
Rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.
We are springing to the call
Of our brothers gone before,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom;
And we'll fill our vacant ranks with
A million free men more,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.-CHORUS
We will welcome to our numbers
The loyal, true and brave,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom;
And although they may be poor,
Not a man shall be a slave,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.-CHORUS
So we're springing to the call
From the East and from the West,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom;
And we'll hurl the rebel crew
From the land that we love best,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.-CHORUS
poem by George Frederick Root
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Love Is Like A Butterfly
Love is like a butterfly
As soft and gentle as a sigh
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
I feel it when youre with me
It happens when you kiss me
That rare and gentle feeling that I feel inside
Your touch is soft and gentle
Your kiss is warm and tender
Whenever I am with you I think of butterflies
Love is like a butterfly
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
Your laughter brings me sunshine
Everyday is spring time
And I am only happy when you are by my side
How precious is this love we share
How very precious, sweet and rare
Together we belong like daffodils and butterflies
Love is like a butterfly
As soft and gentle as a sigh
The multicolored moods of love are like its satin wings
Love makes your heart feel strange inside
It flutters like soft wings in flight
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
Love is like a butterfly, a rare and gentle thing
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rally round The Flag
(traditional)
Yes, well rally round the flag, boys
Well rally round again
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
We will rally from the hillside
Well gather from the plain
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
The union forever, hurrah boys, hurrah
Down with the traitor, up with the star
While we rally round the flag, boys
Rally once again
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
We will welcome to our numbers
The loyal, true and brave
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
And although he may be poor
Not a man shall be a slave
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
So were springing to the call
From the east and from the west
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
And well prove a loyal crew
To the land we love the best
Shouting the battle cry of freedom
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Breeze
Gentle bliss of Heaven around
To soothe a matter bruised
Gentle blow of a soft Goddess
To salve the heart hurt
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Early Works - Mary
With profile profound
and mind sound.
With eyes soft and tender
and a build slender
lips soft and warm
with tender caresses planted firm
so gentle, so fine,
so nice and so kind.
Hair shoulder length
with a gentle hand of strength
if perfection were real
to be surely this description
would describe one - agree.
Date Unknown
Authors Note:
From the juvenile nativity of this work, I can only guess it was something I wrote just after I started writing in the early 1960s.
poem by David Harris
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full bloomed cherry plum
bees' buzzing gentle song –
semantron far tones
haiku by Letiţia Iubu from Steps on the Sand (Paşi pe nisip) (2013), translated by Dan Costinaş
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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In a Manner of Speaking
In a manner of speaking, I want to kill you,
said the drunk redneck to his wife,
In a manner of speaking, I don't love you,
said my ex (turned vegan) to me,
as I returned from a psych ward, hoping for
some sort of reconciliation,
And in a manner of speaking, the whole
world has gone to shit, that no mentally
unbalanced poet can improve upon,
In a manner of speaking, I was just a haiku
before I birthed an epic poem in 2008
and it went something like:
In a manner of speaking…
In a manner of speaking, there is plenty of
beer and loose women,
In a manner of speaking, there is plenty of
internet journals with useless information,
In a manner of speaking, there are plenty of
assholes writing about getting laid and anal sex
on MySpace,
In a manner of speaking, my friend got raped
a few years ago and now has occasional herpes
outbreaks, which are quite disturbing
to her husband,
In a manner of speaking, I'm losing faith in humanity
and love at times,
In a manner of speaking, we just go through the motions,
hoping for something to change or something
spectacular to happen.
But I don't really know any more,
trying to make sense of it all, screaming for some sort of
sanity that eludes me,
In a manner of speaking, I feel alone here,
unable to connect to what's around me-
I just told some guy at a bar that I was a Dallas Cowboys
fan and I don't even watch football,
and he told me to come in my 'gear' on Sunday,
In a manner of speaking, I feel somewhat liberated
because I have no clue as to what I'm doing,
knowing that there is really no escape.
January 8,2008
-Alexander Shaumyan
poem by Alexander Shaumyan
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Lawyer
When the jury files in to deliver a verdict after weeks of direct and cross examinations, hot clashes
of lawyers and cool decisions of the judge,
There are points of high silence--twiddling of thumbs is at an end--bailiffs near cuspidors take fresh
chews of tobacco and wait--and the clock has a chance for its ticking to be heard.
A lawyer for the defense clears his throat and holds himself ready if the word is "Guilty" to enter
motion for a new trial, speaking in a soft voice, speaking in a voice slightly colored with bitter wrongs
mingled with monumental patience, speaking with mythic Atlas shoulders of many preposterous,
unjust circumstances.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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The Three Gentle Shepherds
Of gentle Philips will I ever sing,
With gentle Philips shall the valleys ring.
My numbers too for ever will I vary,
With gentle Budgell and with gentle Carey.
Or if in ranging of the names I judge ill,
With gentle Carey and with gentle Budgell:
Oh! may all gentle bards together place ye,
Men of good hearts, and men of delicacy.
May satire ne'er befool ye, or beknave ye,
And from all wits that have a knack, God save ye.
poem by Alexander Pope
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Sonnet to Isa Sleeping
As graceful as the Babylonian willow
Bending, at noontide, over some clear stream
In Palestine, in beauty did she seem
Upon the cygnet-down of her soft pillow;
And now her breast heaved like some gentle billow
Swayed by the presence of the full round moon
Voluptuous as the summer South at noon
Her cheeks as rosy as the radiant dawn
When heaven is cloudless! When she breated, the air
Around was perfume! Timid as the fawn,
And meeker than the dove, her soft words were
Like gentle music heard at night, when all
Around is still until the soul of care
Was soothed, as noontide by some waterfall.
poem by Thomas Holley Chivers from The Lost Pleiad (1854)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In That Foreign Land
amidst the crowd
there are only two of you
speaking
your own language and
you walk with them
and your feet are tired
and there is no
talking, as though
both of you are stranded
in an island
where monkeys and birds
only exist
and then you dream of home
and you even promise
that your enemies are
much better than them
because at least
you can do a lot of
talking and shouting
and quarreling and that
in such actions, at least,
you have a world of sounds
that you can
take with you and understand
and preoccupy with
when the night comes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Villainy
Villainy, vain, ill, van, nay, in, an, vial, nail, ail, lay;
Tones of love and tones of peace!
But, i am here to respect your muse.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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A Rainy Day
Slipping through the open sash.
Cool wet freshness
draws me from the depth
of my slumber's darkness.
The gentle cadence
of falling rain.
Its soft pelt splashing
upon the window pane.
Coursing down
the glass transparency.
Rivulets of wetness
distort the world outside I see
A canopy of leaves
keeps dry a nest
of fledgling birds.
While they rest.
Bright golden sun
now hidden away.
By gray clouds
whose visit pay.
The rain they bring
falls on dry earth.
To cleanse and quench
coax forth rebirth.
On a rainy day
the world I see.
Quiet soft gentle
A world of peace to me.
poem by Kurt Hearth
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Foul Mouths Shouting
This magic we hold...
Comes from deep 'withinside' of us.
The moment our hearts began to beat...
That magic of life,
Began
To sweep us up in its wonder....to keep,
In wonder.
And so ungrateful we become,
Soon after that's done.
With a so too often shown...
Disrespect to be allowed.
And foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house.
And so ungrateful we become,
And soon after that's done.
Foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house
To cuss it!
For what it is,
And what it is not!
Soiled from the beginning.
And spoiled to aggrevate and annoy!
A lot!
Until there is conflict.
And it does come.
And so ungrateful we become,
And soon after that's done.
Foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house
And we re-act the way we've been taught,
To defend ourselves.
From those 'bad guys'.
With their differences...
Few make attempts to hide.
Foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house rise.
And we spy on 'them'...
To undercover their weak spots!
Making it easier to do them in.
To cuss it!
For what it is,
And what it is not!
Soiled from the beginning.
And spoiled to aggrevate and annoy!
A lot.
Until there is conflict.
And it does start!
And so ungrateful we become,
And soon after that's done.
Foul mouths shouting...
In someone's house
To cuss it!
For what it is,
And what it is not!
Soiled from the beginning.
And spoiled to aggrevate and annoy!
A lot.
Until there is conflict.
And it comes to start again!
Foul mouths shouting...
To cuss it!
For what it is.
Foul mouths shouting...
To cuss it!
For what it is.
Foul mouths shouting...
To cuss it!
For what it is.
To cuss it!
For what it is.
To cuss it!
For what it is.
Cuss it!
For what it is.
To Cuss it!
For what it is.
Cuss it!
Cuss it!
Cuss it!
Cuss it!
Cuss it!
For what it is.
To Cuss it!
For what it is.
Cuss it!
For what it is.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Song Of The Harp
Angel play upon your harp.
Play it soft and clear.
If I listen long enough
maybe I will hear
all the tones that vibrate,
reaching through the spheres.
Angel play upon your harp
sweet music for my ears.
All the sounds that reach our young
are not too heavenly.
Their music is just so much noise,
I know it cannot be
music that an angel plays,
music that is sweet.
All they seem to want is
a steady throbbing beat.
Angel play upon your harp.
Play it night and day.
Maybe they might listen
to the silken tones you play.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Karmic Path Of Sadness (Wife Beating)
In a previous lifetime,
I was a peasant Russian farmer,
Mostly gentle but often sad
For once having beat his wife
For speaking out of place
With a person of preeminence.
poem by Uriah Hamilton
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