To Felix
The silence is full of peace
without any bird or animal noises
but not ominous
and it’s just as if there are no sounds
not even cars, busses, trains
and lorries that drive somewhere,
not even the wind blowing
as you rest in another world
that does not know about any love or pain,
where light and air is missing
and you could not
finish your last hunting expedition,
will never again
look down from the tree branches
to later climb down for some tea
to show your love with your purring sounds.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
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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Noise
From it there's no escape
it is everywhere
noise, noise, noise.
The moment you arise
till you go to sleep
it fills your head.
Cars and lorries drive by
bloody noisy Pigeons cooing
stereo's at full blast.
Drilling in the road
alarms going off
sirens wailing.
Kids screaming
Helicopter overhead
sound of breaking glass.
Noisy neighbours
doors slamming
dogs loud barking.
Even when asleep
noises in your head
you can't escape it.
Noise of wildlife
from tiny insects
to birds in the trees.
Noise can send you mad
it can get into the brain
noise is everywhere.
Silence is deafening
a whisper is like
a thunder clap.
Noise, noise, noise,
is everywhere
from it no escape.
Is it silent in the grave
does noise go with you
is noise eternal?
poem by Kevin Halls
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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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Cars Are Cars
Words & music by paul simon 1983
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Similarly made. similarly sold
In a motorcade. abandoned when theyre old
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Engine in the front. jack in the back
Wheels take the brunt. pinion and a rack
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
But people are strangers
They change with the curve
From time zone to time zone
As we can observe
They shut down their borders
And think theyre immune
They stand on their differences
And shoot at the moon
But cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Drive em on the left. drive em on the right
Susceptible to theft in the middle of the night
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
I once had a car
That was more like a home
I lived in it, loved in it
Polished its chrome
If some of my homes
Had been more like my car
I probably wouldnt have
Travelled this far
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There are few things in life
I
There are few things in life
that will equate,
the freedom
that you get on a motorbike.
II
Speed and power is something
that can easily grab you
and maybe you can fetch the same
adrenalin rush
if you parachute
or go down with a bungi rope,
but it’s maybe better to be part
of a iron horse
and alone with your self
and with the wind and the sun
see the road flashing by.
III
Let cars stand in rows
and busses full of unknown people
stop at many places,
while my blue motorbike
passes them
and drive to my destination.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Trains
Here I am at the end of the day
With a cup of cold coffee
From the station buffet.
On trains, on trains I seem
To spend my life on trains.
See the blue suit banker in the ticket line.
Got an evening standard with playboy
Hidden behind.
On trains, on trains he seems
To spend his life on trains.
Time after time.
Was I just dreaming?
Did I help you aboard?
Full passenger service ---
Let me help with the door.
Sit down take the weight off your feet.
Theres a train full of people Id like
You to meet.
On trains, on trains we love
To spend our lives on trains.
Join the secret world of trains.
Feel the pleasure. touch the pain.
Drift into yesterday.
Once and again
I was just thinking.
We could meet sometime
On the 17.30 where
I usually find
My friends at the end of the day.
May we pay your fare, lady?
We should like you to stay
In our train. on trains ---
Youll have to spend your life
On trains.
I hear theres an office party on the 18.05.
Youll be home for christmas if they
Take you alive from the train.
Those trains, we have to spend our lives
On trains.
Once and again
I was just thinking.
We could meet any time
On number two platform
Where I usually find
My friends at the end of the day.
On trains, trains, trains.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sounds of Silence
Nature’s greatest gifts attacked by disquieted nations,
Leaving nothing in place but mechanical reverberations.
Melodies of the woods serenading shooting stars
Surrender to hammers pounding and boisterous cars.
Silence, soothing silence, you have spoken a world to me.
A partner with whisperings always meant to set me free.
Now a threatened companion once always at my side;
When juxtaposed with greed I often ignored your guide.
Silence, I beseech you, use tones soft, but clear
So no matter where I am, I’ll know you can be near.
At times when myriad noises distract or voices demur,
Hypnotize me into your world where all thought is pure.
Silence oh silence; I need you more each and every day.
Clear my mind; destroy that grind with your gentle way.
Silence my silence; I promise to hear your every word.
Give me peace and help me cease to value the absurd.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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I Like My Toys
I have a trainset and a garage full of cars
And a soldier with a gun
My mother says I should have more resposibility
As Im nearly 31
I have a plane, I have a crane
That can lift up all my trains and all my cars
I have a boat that doesnt float
But a big machine that takes me to the stars
But my mother says I should get a job
Or my father she will tell
She says 16 years is a long enough rest
Though I say that Im not well
I have a trainset and a garage full of cars
And a soldier with a gun
My mother says shell break up all my toys and all my games
And shell say Im not her son
But your mother says you should get a job
Or your father she will tell
She says 16 years is a long enough rest
Though you say that youre not well
I had a plane, I had a crane
That could lift up all my trains and all my cars
I had a boat that couldnt float
So my machine and me are going to the stars
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Jabberwocky
Other than the slight ringing in my ears
The only other sound I hear is the
Computers low droning inner gears.
Monotonous sounds that drive me a
Little crazy at times; background noises
That become deafening after awhile
Especially sitting in quietness
Or rather semi-quietness. Still, I’ll
Never get used to these subtle noises.
I think, perhaps, I am a little mad
If that’s possible; I don’t hear voices
Like a bug-house lunatic, God forbad!
I must be nuts though, to sit here alone
Typing jabberwocky verses at home.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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The trip back
The sky is grey
with ominous clouds
that whirls and churns
and there’s thick fog
hanging like a cloak
low over the earth.
The visor of my helmet
is immediately covered
by the impact
of fine drops of rain
and I open it
to be able to see
where I am travelling.
At places I have to leave the road
to clean the lenses
of my glasses
and then the motorbike
again roars with power under me,
but I have only gone a small distance
when the cars come to a halt
and I have to twist through them.
Twenty kilometres further
I come upon the accident
that is blocking the freeway
just where I have to turn off
to Benoni
and blue and red lights
flash through
the fumes of mist.
I turn the throttle open
but at places
the fog banks still hangs low
and mini buss taxis, busses and cars
appear like ghosts in front of me.
At a place a stream flows
strong like a river over the road
and although I lift my feet
and open the throttle more
to give power to the motorbike
a four by four
passes over the middle line
and throws a wall of water
right over me
and if I can get hold of that lunatic
he will surely know it.
The helmet, black leather jacket
and backpack
stops the water,
but my jean
and shoes are soaking wet
and the motorbike eats the road
and somewhat frozen
I drive to get to home,
as if Springs
is just behind the next hillock
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Road Back Home
Controlling a motorcycle on the road
is a lethal skill at which
you have to be a master
in order to survive on the road.
Dodging lorries, cars and luxury busses,
overtaking some very slow vehicles
on route twenty-one
in order to turnoff at the Benoni off ramp
I was in the left hand lane
when a old lady almost scattered me
on the rushing tarmac
by changing lanes while
I was right next to her.
The narrow piece of road
on the other side of the yellow line
came to my rescue
but anger ripped through me
and enraged dragons
wanted to throw flaming words at her
and the guy behind me
with the black pee pot on his head
driving a Hardly Davidson
almost ran right into her
and said the words instead
sounding like “you unreal foolish woman”
but realistic it was something much worse
while a car carrying truck
changed lanes cutting us off
and I still smell the rubber
from my motorbike’s braking wheels
and both of our motorcycles
narrowly avoided hitting that truck
but fortunately rows of cars parted
to let us through and the freezing wind,
some heavy fog and light drizzle
was with me the rest of the way home.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In Hilly-Wood
How sweet to be thus nestling deep in boughs,
Upon an ashen stoven pillowing me;
Faintly are heard the ploughmen at their ploughs,
But not an eye can find its way to see.
The sunbeams scarce molest me with a smile,
So thick the leafy armies gather round;
And where they do, the breeze blows cool the while,
Their leafy shadows dancing on the ground.
Full many a flower, too, wishing to be seen,
Perks up its head the hiding grass between.-
In mid-wood silence, thus, how sweet to be;
Where all the noises, that on peace intrude,
Come from the chittering cricket, bird, and bee,
Whose songs have charms to sweeten solitude.
poem by John Clare
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Animal Boy
Gonna kill and destroy
I'm not an Animal Boy
Why don't they understand
I'm not an ape man
Don't have brain damage
I'm not an a wild savage
Don't push me around
Don't bring my head down
Animal Boy
Animal Boy
Animal Boy
I'm not an imbecile
Don't treat me like an animal
I'm not a creature in the zoo
Don't tell me what to do
Animal Boy
Animal Boy
Animal Boy
You don't know what it's like
You don't know how I feel
I don't have a monkey's brain
I'm not an animal
You can't lock me in a cage
This ain't the Stoneage
Better get out of my way
Someone's gonna have to pay
Animal boy
Animal boy
Animal boy
Animal boy
song performed by by Ramones from Animal Boy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Streets
The gaudy glow of neon lights
dispels the darkness of the nights
on city streets.
They pop and fizzle noisily
creating a cacophony
on city streets.
The sober folks walk warily
and drunks stagger uncaringly
on city streets.
The ladies of the night parade
for there is money to be made
on city streets.
Drug dealers ready to retreat
if they should hear a coppers feet
on city streets.
The night shift workers wend their way
towards their work to start their day
on city streets.
The noisy revellers thin out
as one by one the signs go out
on city streets.
The gradually noises abate
and ghostly shadow congregate
on city streets.
For some few hours peace will reign
before the noise will start again
on city streets.
The early morning traffic sounds
start with the milkmen on their rounds
on city streets.
This builds up to an angry roar
as cars and lorries inward pour
on city streets
then when at last rush hour has passed
noise levels will subside at last
on city streets
I thank the lord that I am free
to leave this noise far behind me
on city streets.
I walked my beat the whole night
through exactly as I’m paid to do
on city streets.
I choose to live outside the town
where constant noise won’t get me down
on city streets.
My village is a quiet place
A haven where I need not face
the noisy streets.
8-Jun-07
poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Noises
(ian hunter/tommy morrongiello)
Noises are taking away my freedom.
Noises seem to rob me of myself.
Noises are the sound of mediocrity.
Noises ... to take that ... from out of myself.
Noises are taking away my casualness.
Noises are making me scared.
Big noises are made by big shots.
Some noises should never be heard.
Noises,
Noises,
Noises,
Noises,
Give me noises!
Noises are looking over my shoulder.
Noises are the sound of the herd.
Noises make the planet colder.
Noises are noises that should never be heard.
Noises,
Noises,
Noises,
Noises will destroy me.
Noises ...
Why not join some junky jewels, who wreck the clines on canvas fools
Who take the vapours from the mind. neo nothing. shallow kind.
A ritzy nazi owns the game, he plays at God but that was fame
And music masturbates his mind, and stones get rolled up in the slime
A new york butch becomes a blond, while changing gears while from beyond
Agree to consecrate the music makers have gotta take
Owls with trowels as big as spades, dig down among those sequined graves.
Work out their ages, turn the pages, caught in cages, locked in ages
Media momenta, who can prevent her.
Noises, noises, noises, noises
Did you find a certain street, theyre looking for thoughtless thoughts to preach
The street, the street, theyre not your drain, while waiting in the pouring rain
For your old lady out of work, brought the baby, bet your shirt
Waiting for godot did it, then whats happening the other end - rewards
And gallant knights with blunted swords
Locked away in isolation, trying to figure out why they wanna die
And thats the state of the nation.
Noises,
Noises,
Noises,
Noises, oh, oh, oh.
I love noises!
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Detroit
(ian hunter)
(transcribed by nicole apostola)
He used to ride through the streets, crying through the alleyway
Freezing cold in the early morning light
Out to get a salary
Detroit, detroit
Tv image ain't gonna pay the bills
Big big cars
Detroit, detroit
The fan
Detroit, detroit
Big big shots
Got their heads in the sand
The usual
(buzzing cars noises from ian)
You're late
Detroit, detroit
He's a working man
Ghost town
Ghost town
(indistinguishable sounds, laughs)
The loneliest man in the world
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is Silence a Good Noise
Silence is Golden
Be silent when you can
If you know nothing best to be silent
If you know something be humble
At the end of day it is silence that matters
Feeling tired and lethargy
A calm surrounding helps
Rather than busy noises
I could use a silence or two
To rejuvenate my soul
In the still of night silence brings peace
To remain in the quietness
Seems like a pleasant noise
Hush my soul
Sshhhhhh
Copyrighted @ Jeline Loh
poem by Jeline Loh
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Cars
Cars
Almost everybody has one, but what little thought we give them.
We drive our cars to work and school but even then we don't give our cars much thought.
You go from one exteme to the other, one guy might pay about $20,000 for a car, while another may pay $150,000 for a car.
Cars are an earthly object, yet we all see people that go overboard with their cars.
poem by Sean Bitikofer
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Detroit (Out Take 5 - Vocal)
(ian hunter)
(transcribed by nicole apostola)
He used to ride through the streets, crying through the alleyway
Freezing cold in the early morning light
Out to get a salary
Detroit, detroit
Tv image aint gonna pay the bills
Big big cars
Detroit, detroit
The fan
Detroit, detroit
Big big shots
Got their heads in the sand
The usual
(buzzing cars noises from ian)
Youre late
Detroit, detroit
Hes a working man
Ghost town
Ghost town
(indistinguishable sounds, laughs)
The loneliest man in the world
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silence Too Sounds
In a world where sound reigns,
And an era where sound adorns,
Seldom silence too sounds,
Even without a single wave formed,
Conveying everything even untold,
One among the unlimited expressions of nature,
A reliable expression for every creature,
Silence of breeze a matter of exaggeration for poets,
Even silence of the Last Prophet makes a solid statement for the believers,
Statue of Buddha in silence revealing peace and non violence,
Prayers to the God revivifying it into spirits in silence,
Tajmahal unveiling its majesty and magnificence,
While alone on a full moon night, in silence,
So at times silence angelic,
Sometimes terrific,
While in a graveyard or on the Day of Judgment,
At times tragic, when kept mum against,
the evils and vicious around by…
Doesn’t silence sound well….? Reciprocate at least in a sigh.
poem by Mohammed Suhail
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