Composing Silence
i have no desire to be anyone's echo...
nor for anyone to be mine!
original sounds in a sea of sounds,
all composing silence!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Related quotes
Thoughts On The Sounds of Silence
The sounds of silence beacons me.
Like the flight of a bumble bee.
For my life is in a quandary. And I am the one who is confused.
All the noise I here has me transfused.
The constant noise is like a cancerous ooze, someone mused.
All this noise has everyone confused.
I pray to God above to bestow me with the sounds of silence.
All human life is in the balance.
With the sounds of silence I believe peace surrounds us.
About this subject I must confess, I need to access.
I must admit that the sounds of silence is for me.
On the sounds of silence many of us do agree
That peace and love needs to be in great balance.
Without the sounds of silence there would be a major imbalance.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
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Execute The Sounds
I'm on a mad style
Underground, we come cool and deadly
With that natural sound
It make you feel so free, you no turn it down
Vibe 6-19 from the Southtown
And Jah know, what I and I wanna do
Because Jah know, I am man stay true
You know Jah know, the real who is who
Ain't no time to fake it, make ya feel brand new
It goes 1,2,3. The crew is called P.O.D.
And if you wanna go to the tip top
Break it down, with that one drop - Whyoo
Execute the sounds, and positive come around
Impact the sounds, positive all around
Execute the sounds, and positive come around
Impact the sounds, positive all around
Now why mess me, try to take his crown.
Babylon test me, we gonna smash em down
Original O.G. this is my playground
Don't take me seriously, you gonna feel it now
I man, you know the harder they come
Because I man, I'm gonna get the job done
You know I man, no they don't want none
Me never have to cheat cause me already won.
19'04, home to the real hardcore.
And you don't wanna sleep, don't talk
I'll break you down with that one drop - Whyoo
Execute the sounds, and positive come around
Impact the sounds, positive all around
Execute the sounds, and positive come around
Impact the sounds, positive all around
Execute the sounds, and positive come around
Impact the sounds, positive all around
Execute the sounds, and positive come around
Impact the sounds, positive all around
song performed by by P.O.D.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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“Sweet Sounds of Joy”
Sounds of joy, sounds of joy
Oh how I love to hear sweet sounds
Of joy
Sounds of joy, sounds of joy
Oh how I love to hear momma sing
In her morning voice
Sounds of joy, sounds of joy
Oh how I love to be in the presence
Of these sounds of joy
Sounds of joy, sounds of joy
Oh how I love sweet sounds of joy
poem by Va Rockeya Foy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sounds Of Reality
You want to sit in silence
just to gather your thoughts,
however you know that something
will shatter that shell apart.
The silence that you crave
will vanish in sounds of reality.
You want to sit without
any outside influence
invading your shell of silence
you have built around yourself.
Sadly the inevitable will happen
and the shell will be shattered.
The sounds of reality
creep into our lives
in those precious moments
when we need to be
alone with our thoughts
and as quiet as can be.
Some don’t understand
the quiet distance others need
and invade it with idle noise
from their chatter to a TV blast
which will shatter your silence shell
with the sounds of reality.
You feel like shouting
get out of my space
and leave me alone,
but then you doubt
if they will understand
and you suffer in the sounds of reality.
24 September 2010
poem by David Harris
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Sounds of Nature
Sounds of Nature,
brings an echo
to my ear.
So gentle are,
their call
to my heart
Seeing this all,
birds making music,
to my ear
Sweet smell of
flowers still developing
oh, the spendor of it all
Sounds of Nature
brings an echo
to my ear.
Sounds
What are the sounds we love to hear,
the sounds that bring us joy?
They are all the sounds we've listened to,
sounds that don't destroy
how you feel or how you react
when they reach your ear.
They touch a certain part of you
that sometimes brings a tear
of joy.
A child's laughter so innocent and pure,
a rolling wave down at the shore,
a sound of comfort from a spoken word,
a sound of wind chimes in the air,
a sound of silence while in prayer,
a sound of white noise when you sleep,
a sound of joyful tears you weep.
These sounds and many, many more
can change a person's mood.
They soothe your body and your mind
so nothing can intrude
upon your joy.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I listen to the silence
I Listen To The Silence
Darkness about me
In the somnolent silence
The silence has substance
As thick as can be
silence about me
as loud as a scream
In a nightmarish dream
It can terrify me
Silence has a feel
Of darkness in velvet cloaked
As a desperate cry being choked
Phantasmic, yet real
As Quiet surrounds me
The silence has substance
The absence of presence
is deafening to me
Sounds whispery as paper
Things scurry about me
Sounds, soft, sad and scaly
Like venom and vapour
Silence is sound incomplete
Silence whirs, silence hums
Silence throbs, silence thrums
Silence has it’s own heartbeat
Quiet has movement,
Tho’ever so slow
Quiet has substance
and how do I know?
I listen to the silence...
as you do also
poem by David Whalen
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Where Will I Be
(daniel lanois)
The streets are cracked
And theres glass everywhere
And a baby stares out
With motherless eyes
Under long gone beauty
On fields of war
Trapped in lament
To the poets core
Oh where oh where will I be
Oh where oh when that trumpets sounds
Met an indian boy in ottawa
He laid me down on a bed of straw
Said dont waste your breath
Dont waste your heart
Dont blister your heels
Running in the dark
Oh where oh where will I be
Oh where oh when that trumpets sounds
Yeah I like the heat
Of your body laying under me
May your wild lip get you where your going
With your inventions your intentions, your laughter
Your forever yearning
Oh where oh where will I be
Oh where oh when that trumpets sounds
I walked to the river
And I walked to the rim
I walked through the teeth of the reapers grin
I walked to you rolled up in wire
To the other side of desire
Oh where oh where will I be
Oh where oh when that trumpets sounds
Oh where oh where oh where when that trumpet sounds
Oh where oh where oh when that trumpet sounds
Well the heart opens wide like its never seen love
And addiction stays on tight like a glove
Oh where oh where will I be
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Showing her teeth pearls!
I heard some wonderful sounds
floating through the air into my ears;
Is it her anklets made of fine sounds....!
Is it her bangles made such sounds..!
Or is it the sounds of dropped coins;
I am puzzled and turned around,
I could not find anybody,
Suddenly there appeared a beautiful girl,
She came giggling with a broad smile,
Showing her teeth pearls!
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
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The Silence of Night
The silence I am with
Comforts
Stills
Surrounds
The silence is not real
Full
Constant
Chaotic
The silence is for me
Friendly
Hopeful
Peace
The silence becomes
All
Nothing
Ambiguity
No child to remind me I'm not alone
Little patter of feet to keep me up
Cries for 'mom' are far from this home
No last night time kisses and hug
The crickets sing there woeful tunes
Sounds of cars and screeching tires
Baby's scream and mother to sooth
Sounds of an urban type comical ire
The slamming of near neighbor’s door
TV blares a messy reality reminder
Silence carries drive by bass to poor
Teenager’s worried yells are a timer
Late night bacon from downstairs
Orange light filters in the windows
Revving motorcycle give night flair
Sounds of silence continue to grow
By Ruth L. Rivers
Aug. 4,2009
poem by Ruth L. Rivers
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I Waited for the Silence
I waited for the Silence
Only then could I hear my own poem -
The Silence came and I began to write
Bu there were nonetheless small disturbing sounds
Which drowned the inner mood and melody-
I waited for the Silence again
And the Silence did not come
And the poem I wanted to hear
Was not in me -
So all I can do is write down what happened
As if this too were a poem
And the satisfaction of a need
Even if I cannot hear my own sounds.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Also in Norah Jones, now there's a voice that sounds and I don't mean disrespect but sounds a hundred years old that sounds incredibly experienced. It's just an exciting time.
quote by Gerry Beckley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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(Better) Done Than Said
(better) done than said
the sounds between the lines
of the words i speak
reminds me of the lines
i spoke in thought and trials
and the lines
within the sounds of spoken word
touched mine heart
mine dreadlocks started skanking in joy
of the music in mine thought
but til done, i thought
next to mine were time and rhythm
for less than never it were missing
the sense to do than say
and mine legs kept me in transit
mine hands touched to pick a way
whence my eyes long seen
besides, talk were amass
done; far less
than which that caught mine
til done, i do and did
done than said
the inner mine person done me
a thought to catch mine power
and grab to proceed a synergy of our
own belief to mine self and stronger
than the sounds behind the lines
of the words i speak
but from the deep lines
of the metaphor, line by talk
with mine hands holding that thought
to keep it moving and done
long before said, as done
opn01112012/0849
poem: (better) done than said
'roots of mine tree' book no.12 of 2012
november 2012
ntema's unique poetry
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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Till
Till these eyes pop out from its sockets
Drop like marbles on the floor
Roll to dust and sand and be gone,
Till my back aches no more with
A thousand needles pricking me up higher
To my neck, my nape higher all over my head,
Till my arms break into quarters of bones
Till my hands disjoin from their fingers
Till this heart burst to segregated chambers,
Till my solid self disintegrates into meaningless pieces
Till everything in me returns to dust flies to air,
I will never cease composing all of you
Words without sounds, sounds without images
I will not
Stop giving you the image that you desire, the sound that would be musical,
To the ears of this world, to the farthest celestial ears of this universe,
My dear words, You all have the right to become my poetry, the poetry.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Alankar(Decor) -103
Grumble(Quatern)
The Quatern is-
stanzaic, written in 4 quatrains.
syllabic, usually written in lines of 8 syllables.
rhymed at the poet's discretion.
Possible rhyme schemes are Axax xAxa axAx xaxA x being unrhymed
and the cap A being the refrain.
Or Aabb aAcc ddAa eeaA or any combination the poet chooses
as long as the refrain is in the proper position.
composed with a refrain that is repeated as
L1 of the first stanza
L2 of the second stanza
L3 of the third stanza
L4 of the fourth stanza
Grumble
Empty mind mine sounds only hush
Lonely bewildered in silence
I am to fill it with words lush
My musings are hunting for thoughts
Albeit heart yearns for poetry
Empty mind mine sounds only hush
I pat my brain quite brisk
So that floods of words lot in gush
Time does not seem to wait then rush
Brain is working fast-yet
Empty mind mine sounds only hush
Thought-hunt is busy running on
I don't like a random scribble
Perfect theme, proper words should push
That my poem is set right-still
Empty mind mine sounds only hush
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Composing Poem
Composing poem is not a game to play
Composing poem has no loss no profit.
No body has got complete control over words
No body has a thought even how to use words
From start to end.
The man who is composing poem act as a middleman
Between the creator and the creation
And the middleman has no right to say about
The original picture and theme.
No body is there to guess what is there
In the mind of the compositor
At times the compositor himself could not say
What he is composing and for whom.
Words thoughts and pictures present
As pretenders and the compositor is the
Only scapegoat.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Oh These Poets And Their Sounds
OH THESE POETS AND THEIR SOUNDS
Oh these poets and their sounds
Their distant rhythms
Which take your soul away-
Oh these poets and their sounds
And the longing to be
One of them-
Oh this poet
And all his cry of loneliness-
Oh these poets and their sounds,
And he in his own small voice
Crying out lonely words
Before his own lonely page.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Pursuit Ghost Echo Events Spectral Stalk
pursuit ghost echo events
still seek prey upon lives
persistently persecuted souls
among us who hear hounds
are haunted by ghost sounds
sounds we dread heard sounds
others told us of heard
in nights that never end
dramatic event defined
memories horrific nights
replay in trapped details
haunting aging memories
violence harass stalks years
sliver glass sharp daggers
pierce fragile victim minds
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Silence Is...
Silence is an absence
Silence is profound
Silence is a conversation
Being had without sound
Silence is an expression
One that cannot be heard
Silence cannot be spoken
Although it is a word
Silence is a presence
Of great nothingness
Silence can be something
And yet cease to exist
Silence can fill a room
And have no mass at all
Silence cannot be dropped, yet it can fall
Silence is a mystery
That will forever go unsolved
Silence is how every sound can swiftly be dissolved
Silence is the sound of rest
The only sound that can sound best
While other sounds can cause great pain
Silence is not the sound to blame
For Silence is what silence is
Something that is nothing
Nothing that exists
poem by Kyle.J Carruthers
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True Laughter
So that's what it sounds like.
True Laughter.
I don't hear it that often.
Even when I do, it's quickly silenced,
usually by someone to afraid to let their guard down.
It sounds like running through the rain,
hands locked with friends that embrace who you are.
The friends that see through the stranger
that sometimes takes your place.
They don't even realize he's there
because truthfully,
he's not.
It sounds like tripping down memory lane,
reminiscing and smiling at awkward photos.
It sounds like talking to an old mentor that hasn't changed.
You show up on their doorstep two years late for class
and they still welcome you in.
It sounds like hot soup eaten in cold clothes;
sipping hot chocolate while watching
video tapes of an old friendship.
You smile and laugh,
because it was there and you had forgotten it existed.
Soon everyone's laughing because it was
and it is.
Then you realize
it always will be.
Huh
So that's what it sounds like.
True Laughter.
poem by Cary Kelly
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