En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Conditional Sanctuary

You may take some comfort here behind my hedge,
But, if you do, I must insist you rarely speak. I do
Not want to hear of what you bought today when
You were shopping, or of the disgusting products,
Churned out on assembly lines, which you decided
You should eat. I do not want to talk about
Celebrities or any of the vile doings of the faceless
Frauds who buzz in legislatures, pulled along by,
As they're pushing on the strings of our colossus,
Run amok from sea to sea. I do not want my peace
Disturbed. If you should speak, then note the
Silence of my guards, the arching trees, and say
You now can hear the birds, whose calls don't
Carry very far, and say you're fine with sitting,
Watching wind upon the grain below, and
Shadows slowly growing longer. Say, in short,
You understand why almost no one is invited
Here behind my hedge.

poem by Lawrence Beck
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Real Property

Tell me about that harvest field.
Oh! Fifty acres of living bread.
The colour has painted itself in my heart;
The form is patterned in my head.

So now I take it everywhere,
See it whenever I look round;
Hear it growing through every sound,
Know exactly the sound it makes —
Remembering, as one must all day,
Under the pavement the live earth aches.

Trees are at the farther end,
Limes all full of the mumbling bee:
So there must be a harvest field
Whenever one thinks of a linden tree.

A hedge is about it, very tall,
Hazy and cool, and breathing sweet.
Round paradise is such a wall,
And all the day, in such a way,
In paradise the wild birds call.

You only need to close your eyes
And go within your secret mind,
And you'll be into paradise:
I've learnt quite easily to find
Some linden trees and drowsy bees,
A tall sweet hedge with the corn behind.

I will not have that harvest mown:
I'll keep the corn and leave the bread.
I've bought that field; it's now my own:
I've fifty acres in my head.
I take it as a dream to bed.
I carry it about all day....

Sometimes when I have found a friend
I give a blade of corn away.

poem by Harold Monro
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Young Poets

You speak for the lakes, the trees and the birds
You say what they'd say if they had the words.
Make PEACE and be proud, choose well every choice
Speak HOPE and speak loud, you are Nature's voice.
Speak with respect now, for jungles and streams,
Speak for all wildlife and dream giant dreams.
Speak with great courage, speak up and speak out,
Write with a whisper or write with a SHOUT!
Stand up young poets for clean air and rivers,
Free verse or lyric; your message delivers...
Truth to the future citizens of earth,
Speak of your freedom your friends and self worth.
Speak for tomorrow and though you're still young,
Speak for the Forest, your pen is her tongue.
The world waits to hear your songs still unsung
Words posses power, you can write the wrongs
Teach us and lead us with Poems and with songs.
Speak now for nature, for trees and for birds,
Defenders of Earth choose carefullly your words!

poem by ToddMichael St. Pierre
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Conversation with God

Dear God,
If I wrote you a letter and mailed it,
Would that help?
Would you understand me better then?
If I light it on fire
Will the smoke not only carry the words but their intent on it's billowing wings?
Will they coil themselves into your ears,
Will you finally hear me then?
I've been screaming for years
I've whispered some
I've cried a deluge of tears.
I've become a raving mad lunatic
I've hurled myself against the iron bars
Of the cage you've put me in.
Come visit
See my tear stained face.
Help me understand how we've created the
Me
I've become.
Do I ask for too much?
You only speak to me in
Yes's
and
No's.
You only show me today
I want to know about tomorrow, but I get the silent treatment.
So,
If I am indeed the master of my fate
If I really were the captain of my soul
Why is it that you pain- stakingly remind me
I really have no control.
This life
This voyage you have sent me on
Seems so solitary at times.
What if I jumped out
In the hopes that the dark blue waters
Of the ocean would fill me up until
I
Sink to the bottom like a heavy stone.
Would you see me then?
Would you save the drowning man?
I am nothing more than a grain of sand
Screaming as loud as I can
Competing with other screaming grains of sand
For
You
To
Hear me.
Hear me, I whisper
Hear me, please
Hear me, I whisper
Hear me, I plead
Talk to me in a language I can comprehend..
All I'm begging for..
Is
You make me whole again.

poem by Rabia Minhas
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Silence Is

Silence is sitting back in the recliner after a day
at work when the radio was too loud.

Silence is hearing the birds singing after hearing
neighbors bickering.

Silence is listening to beloved hymns after hearing
yourself complaining about things that cannot be changed.

Silence is reading the words of Rumi after reading news of
rape, murder and molestation.

When one is silent about another's wrongdoings, silence is
the sound of the devil shouting. So speak up, and he will
not be heard!

When one is silent in prayer and rest, silence is the sound
of God talking. So speak up, so He may be heard!

Yes, when God talks to you, let Him talk through you!
Be silent no longer!

poem by Greg Oosterhouse
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Fine

A lovers quarrel
Death by a shotgun barrel
With a cleaning solution the instruments are made sterile.
A hairy situation.
Like a plastic surgeon.
Rewriting the expression.
In both the date and time.

Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in its desperate pleas.

Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in its desperate pleas.

Changing my identity
Becoming that man I never use to be
With all niceties, and pleasantries wrapped in a little bow tie.
I don't even know how I survived.
Some thought I would have committed suicide.
But my drive just wouldn't let me.

Well, Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in its desperate pleas.

Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in its desperate pleas.

A murders escape.
A mind debates.
With shouts of hate.
How can you? Just how can you?
Emotional distress.
In all this I digest the worthiness
Worthless I've been called.

Well, Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in its desperate pleas.

Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in its desperate pleas.

I can still hear you every night I dream.
No sound sleep, not for me.
The way you made it seem.
My fault, the living breathing scapegoat
Is it not real enough?

Well, Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in its desperate pleas.

Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in it desperate pleas.

Now I stand upon the darkness
Ready to leap in.
All for you my friend.
Even though my wounds have yet to mend.
It matters not in the end.

Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in it desperate pleas.

Now its fine
Now its fine.
Fine as fine can be.
I no longer need you and you no longer need me.
Can you hear the anger scream.
Reaching out for mercy in it desperate pleas.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Morning Time

Wind was blowing through the trees
I could hear the rustling of their leaves
The morning sun sneaking through the clouds
Birds singing morning sounds
For i love this time i say
Morning of a new day
I wonder what the day has in store
In the distance i hear the waves crashing the shore
For it is morning time and all is a buzz
From the depths of the oceans
To the skies above
Good morning morning i always say
My your a beautiful day
Maybe you might rain today
Your still beautiful anyway
The sombre breeze that blows around
The birds singing
As i spread my blanket on the ground
So i lay here looking into the sky
Motionless waiting and watching the world pass me by
A few drops of rain speckle my face
I would not give up being here for any place

poem by GJC boyle
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No Time

Saw the folks down below crying
Heard them on the radio lying
Distant bells in the air
Ringing out do they hear?
Do they know its growing very near?
Everybody sitting here
They dont realize
Theyve got no time
Saw the transmitter sway slowly
Saw it crash in the lane coldly
Saw the seas rushing in
To the coast now theyve seen
Now they know its growing very near
Everybody sitting here
They dont realize
Theyve got no time
Saw them gather in slow motion
Setting sail on the tired ocean
Heard the clouds rolling by
Shouting down from the sky
Hear them speak their last goodbye
Everybody sitting here
They dont realize
Theyve got no time
No time

song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do Yiu Listen..Or Do U Hear

s the sun rises, , all is quite no chatter of people no cars goin by
but in this silence i hear

i hear the wind as she sings her song
i hear the birds in the sky as they fly by
this is the best silence of all
no phones ringing, no engines reviing as they race by
i hear everything in nature in its glory
can u hear it too..or can u not silence ur selfs

i hear the clouds as they roll in
its this silence that i take pen in hand
and write
u think as u read but thier is no silence
for u can hear the horses roam
u can hear the thunder off in th distance
but when we are loud we caint hear
the beauty of what surrounds
so as u read this poem silence ur mind
and next time u walk out side
silence you mouth ur mind
and u can see silence of the
of all things
then u can truly hear
as i do
and a beautfull sound to see
greyicewolf

.

poem by Jeff Greyicewolf
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Love Never Dies

I will love you forever,
Though your lips might speak end.
I will hold you in my heart and soul,
As my everyday slowly begins.
I will see you when my eyes are blinded,
As I feebly walk alone.
And I will feel only you in my soul
When my heart is full of woe.
I will touch you, or I will remember the touch,
When my fingers become cold and numb.
And I will see, and hear only of you,
When the stars in the sky replaces the sun.
I will hear you speak again,
When a breeze gently blows past.
Then I will speak, of love and you,
When my first breath, becomes my last.
And when GOD calls me home again,
I will kneel unto the Lord.
And I will speak so proudly and only of you,
For I will love you more then, than I did before.

Randy L. McClave

poem by Randy McClave
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Body Talk

I can tell
By the way you stare at me
(talk):
Its deep...real deep
Your minds messed up
Words just dont come easily
(talk):
It should be natural
Your invitation...baby
Turned my head around
Quiet conversation
Language without sound
Body talk...work your body
Everybody let your body talk
Body talk...work your body
Everybody needs some body talk
The guy with me
Hes just a friend of mine
(talk)
Its purely platonic
So if youre tuff enuff
Baby step across the line
(talk)
Girlfriend dont bite
My imagination...baby
Bound to blow my mind
Body talk...work your body
Everybody let your body talk
Body talk...work your body
Everybody needs some body talk
Body talk
I can hear your body talk
Speak to me baby
Body talk
I can hear your body talk
Speak to me baby
Body talk
I can hear your body talk
Body talk
I can hear your body, body, body, body
Talk
I get the picture...baby
Come on over here
Your lips aint moving
But I hear you loud and clear
(chorus out)

song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shouts Of The Maddening Crowd

on this day i hear them
the maddening crowd shouting inside
an enclosure of the town
betting on who wins this time
the winner that takes it all
and the loser
who cries alone

it is the same crowd who tells you who you must be
what to do
what to be
to be just like one of them in greed and gamble
they have a thousand eyes and their mouths speak to you
in unison

dare not run against their wishes
lest you be an outcast with all you possess stripped away from you
your name your past and if you stay a little longer

your future

today, it is all over, i am planning my escape
to the place of my silence

where i can speak and hear what i am speaking
where i can be brave where at last i can just be myself

there i am an island that even you cannot touch

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Your Silence

I have spoken long enough
I have spoken well enough
Now let me be silent
And see how Silence speaks
Hear the words unspoken
For you could never speak
And whenever I asked you
All I could ever hear, was:
Your Silence…

Yes, that very Silence of yours
Which sucked all my life out
making me feel miserable
day in and day out
Still I kept holding on,
hoping on and hanging on…
If you could ever speak

Yet you never spoke up
Instead, offered me a challenge
A challenge to a broken heart?
A challenge to a defeated soul?
Oh! How Ruthless you could be…

And still you ever want me
To keep hearing your silence
And make some meaning of it all
I told you long before
Silence never works for me
I am a woman of words…
It might work well for you
So be it, my love…
If that is what you call ‘friendship’

Let you be silent
And me be too
And we can still remain ‘friends’
For if you speak
And I speak too
Who knows, One day
We might become foes…
And I would rather die
A Friend of yours
Than choose to be a Foe.

poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Em 3

about you
what shall i say about you?

ah, i prefer my
silence

this is my cure about
you
yes, my silence

it shall speak about
you my silence

my very own silence
to speak about your
long silence

now we are at peace
in our silence

both shall speak about
us yes our silence

our marital silence in
the silence of our bed

the root of all our
troubles freud say is in

the silence of our beds
two beds now

four meters apart
speaking in silence

the silence of the house
and the chairs

and the staircases
and the carpets and

the ticks and the
empty glasses or those

cold coffee and
frozen butter.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet XV. On The Grasshopper And Cricket

The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper's -- he takes the lead
In summer luxury, -- he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills.

poem by John Keats
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On the Grasshopper and Cricket

The poetry of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper's--he takes the lead
In summer luxury,--he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshopper's among some grassy hills.

poem by John Keats
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A Mackworth Village Garden

Sitting alone in the country garden of number 82
on this July day with the sun shining through.
Watching the dandelion seeds being wafted up high
and just observing nature as the day passes by.

A magpie jumps onto the neighbour’s weather beaten roof
while a horse can be heard by the sound of its hoof.
The bees are as usual busy visiting all the flowers in bloom
as a dragonfly flits by on this Friday afternoon.

The sun’s gradual movement is taking the shade away
and shadows are growing, as afternoon tea comes my way.
A light wind refreshes as it kisses my uncovered knees,
and the trees respond by dancing along with the breeze.

The crows have decided to disturb the peace and quiet
squabbling over who gets first choice with their diet.
A woodpigeon calls out from next door’s chestnut tree,
then two more arrive, and coo in harmony.

poem by Orlando Belo
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I Talk with My Hands

Just because my voice doesn’t speak
don’t mean I don’t say a word.

I talk with my hand
when I want to be heard.

I speak fast for those who know me.
I slow down for the ones who stop
to hear me. I talk with my hand.

I have preached sermons
and I have told jokes
With my hand I have spoke.

Now, as for those who don’t
want to hear me no matter
what I say or do.

I’ll still talk with my hands
I’ll fold them and pray for you.

I talk with my hand

poem by Lore Me34
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Piece by piece

peace by peace i loose
becuz you talked ur shit
we are no longer friends
you let our friendship go
by talkin ur ship
you unlinked the chain to our friendship
dont call dont speak
dont speak to me
there for we no longer friends
our friendship is gone
in lil peaces my heart is broken
becuz you decided to talk ur shit

poem by Heather Noble
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They Did The Best They Could

Those who say,
They can not understand...
Why their children lack respect and discipline,
Will always say they did the best they could...
To raise them to be good children.

But the teaching to them to be responsble men,
And women accountable for their actions?
Well...many with children are too busy,
Wanting their children to see them as their friends.
And not examples of adults to set for them.

'And...
How many children do you have? '

None.

'OH?
And you think you can speak on this,
From a position of authority? '

No.
I speak from a position of having peace of mind.
I will never be envious of those emotionally manipulated,
For the rest of their lives.
However...
I have often wanted grandchildren.

'But...
Wouldn't you have to have children FIRST? '

And that one 'detail' alone...
Is the reason why,
I chose to keep my peace of mind.

'It's never too late you know? '

Didn't you just hear me say,
I chose to keep my peace of mind,
Over sitting in a prison cell for the rest of my life?

'No.
I didn't hear that last statement.'

It came to me quickly as a vision.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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I Like It Here (part Two)

i like it here
i speak my lines i deliver them and there is no one to listen

how do i know you listening?
but even if i know you are there
it does not really matter

i am here only to speak
and i do not want to hear you talking back

i like it here
this place is simply perfect
for my circumlocution
my monologue
the way i speak to the moon
when the stars are so silent and unminding

the way i talk to the river when it simply passes by its banks
the way i talk to a stone, a tree, a pole, a cloud,

the way i talk to a glass one day whose water i have all drank
the way i talk to a horse, a dog, a cat,

or even to a pillow all wet with my tears.

i like this monologue.
i burst and then i live anew
for another day
tomorrow.

yes, i like it too
talking to your picture that i keep many years ago.
black and white and scented
with moth balls.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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