What The Dog Perhaps Hears
If an inaudible whistle
blown between our lips
can send him home to us,
then silence is perhaps
the sound of spiders breathing
and roots mining the earth;
it may be asparagus heaving,
headfirst, into the light
and the long brown sound
of cracked cups, when it happens.
We would like to ask the dog
if there is a continuous whir
because the child in the house
keeps growing, if the snake
really stretches full length
without a click and the sun
breaks through clouds without
a decibel of effort,
whether in autumn, when the trees
dry up their wells, there isn't a shudder
too high for us to hear.
What is it like up there
above the shut-off level
of our simple ears?
For us there was no birth cry,
the newborn bird is suddenly here,
the egg broken, the nest alive,
and we heard nothing when the world changed.
poem by Lisel Mueller
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Silent Sound
What is the sound of silence?
-the Colorado Plateau-
-desert alive-
Quietly hear
The color red
Land
The Anasazi southern sun
Native blood
Peace
That surpasses all understanding
Beauty in
Rocks (slick and hushed)
Birds (serene and high)
Plants (sustaining and swaying, quietly)
Sky and clouds (inaudible and covering all)
- Life then, now, always
Soft sweet reassurance
Wind whispers of
Endless, eternal echoes,
Ancient singing.
Silent sound is
Sight
Smell
Sensations- all
Simple and sublime...
The sound of sweet silence is
The removal of distractions,
Is the peacable
SouthWest desert.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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Jack
Did you hear that horrific shrill break the silence of the night?
What made that unearthly sound that gave me such a fright?
I can’t believe you never heard it I thought it echoed out loud,
why even the trees cowered that seconds ago stood so proud.
Listen! There it goes again surely you heard it this time,
it was louder and more piercing like a high-pitched whine?
It was also much closer possibly only a 100 meters or so,
look the grass has turned, as though it wants to up and go.
What could frighten nature this way, I’ve never seen the like before?
It has to be something unnatural it’s the only answer I’m sure.
I wonder if it’s some kind of animal, or a primitive type of man
it can’t possibly be both… at least I don’t think it can.
Jack! Jack, where are you? This is no time for fooling around,
stop playing silly games… I can hear a breathing sound.
Did you hear that branch snap? It sounded like a cracked bone,
I don’t like it here Jack… I think I’m going home.
Please show yourself Jack, I don’t want to go and leave you alone.
I’m sorry; I can’t stay any longer, I can hear a deathly moan.
Why don’t you answer your mobile..? The line seems to be dead.
Jack you’re really frightening me, I’m going home to bed.
poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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IV-TV
Black Sun came and changed our name
Made our lives this simple stain
Drove the children from their chores
Handcrafted housewives into whores
Society snake it ate our brains
Injected poison in our veins
T.V. minds hip swing grinds
Faces cracked and filled with lines
Black sun came and changed our name
Made our lives this simple stain
Introveneous T.V. feeds
Bedroom violence all he sees
Ride the lightning to the sky
Stab the clouds and watch them cry
Black sun came and changed our name
Made our lives this simple stain
All we do is smite
for what we think is right
Sound of mind bereft of sight
Denial taking human life
Clouds go by children run
Gulls do nosedives in the sun
Water falling from a spout
into wanting thirsty mouths
Black sun came and changed out name
Made our lives this simple stain
Made our lives this simple stain
Made our lives this simple stain
All we do is smite
for what we think is right
Sound of mind bereft of sight
Denial taking human life
All we do is smite
for what we think is right
Sound of mind bereft of sight
Endless blinding cathode light
song performed by by Marilyn Manson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early Works - Park
A park full of people
where bird song is only heard
trees shade the sunlight
the sound of bird in flight
heard without straining ear
proves the silence we’ve been searching for
is at hand and very near.
Colours of every shade transforms
this sleepy nest
from just a sanctuary of solitude
to a beauty unmolested.
The domain of silence,
the domain of beauty to,
a fortress for the mind to work with eyes.
14 May 1979
poem by David Harris
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The Sadness of The Empty Home
The light flickers on
Illuminates the empty hallway
The thud, click of a door in closing
Brings a silence to the room
A heavy sigh escapes
A look to the mirror sees only
Tired eyes looking back
A bag lain upon the small table
The light turned back off
On route to yet another room
Light creeps through the window
Allowing enough to see
The sound of a running tap
Filling the kettle for a final drink
Keys thrown upon a side
The clatter of cups and spoons
Then further silence
Now the creaking of a staircase
Another door opened
Another light flicked on
The curtains drawn to the world
Drink set beside the bed
The silence of the empty home
Fills the heart with loneliness
A television switched into life
Nothing worth watching
Just a sound there to fill
The silence and the sadness
Of the empty home
poem by Matthew Holloway
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To Be Alive
Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
Not a lot is missing
Every ounce of treasure found
And i believe that everyone should get what
They're allowed
Suspected of belief that comes suspended
In a sound
And everybody wants some
It's the sound they make in heaven
It's a sound for here on earth
I've heard it in the whispering
Of the wonders that we search
We've waited far too long
To hear the healing of the stars
'n' everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - does it get much better than this
Oh - does it get much better, much better
Oh - does it get much better than this, than this
There's the sound that keeps you trying
There's the sound that makes you smile
There's a sound in every corner
Of the world that we survive
Your temple is the harmony
You feel the sacred ground
Just wishing for the secret
To appear within the sound
Watching for the morning star
The rhythm of the sun
I hear it in my waking dreams
The singing has begun
The passion that we walk upon
The passion that we bring
Is written for the mountains
They love to hear us sing
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - doesn't get much better than this
Oh - doesn't get much better than this, than this
Who made me make believe
I'm alive i'm living
Never underestimate
The signals coming to you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, yes it shakes you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, let it shake you
Hep yadda
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Be Alive
Anderson/squire/howe/white/sherwood/khoroshev
Not a lot is missing
Every ounce of treasure found
And i believe that everyone should get what
They're allowed
Suspected of belief that comes suspended
In a sound
And everybody wants some
It's the sound they make in heaven
It's a sound for here on earth
I've heard it in the whispering
Of the wonders that we search
We've waited far too long
To hear the healing of the stars
'n' everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - does it get much better than this
Oh - does it get much better, much better
Oh - does it get much better than this, than this
There's the sound that keeps you trying
There's the sound that makes you smile
There's a sound in every corner
Of the world that we survive
Your temple is the harmony
You feel the sacred ground
Just wishing for the secret
To appear within the sound
Watching for the morning star
The rhythm of the sun
I hear it in my waking dreams
The singing has begun
The passion that we walk upon
The passion that we bring
Is written for the mountains
They love to hear us sing
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
Everybody wants some
To feel alive
Oh - doesn't get much better than this
Oh - doesn't get much better than this, than this
Who made me make believe
I'm alive i'm living
Never underestimate
The signals coming to you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, yes it shakes you
Oh
The sounding of the earth
It shakes you, let it shake you
Hep yadda
song performed by by Yes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silence
I got a feeling
Everything's gonna be alright
And I still find my way
And I heard
It's always darkest before the storm
So come on let it rain
Everything was different when I was seventeen
The world was so much brighter
Now I finally found the truth
Of what they hid for me
That world was so much kinder
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Is what it is
By my own choice
I believe
That we were meant to learn from our mistakes
And stumble along the way
Now I know
That people are gonna grap what they can take
Then just turn away
Everybody's searching
But no one really knows the truth
The world is upside down
What it's all about right now
Will soon turn to gray
Their promises have faded
Silence
Silence
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Is what it is
By my own choice
All my little merry friends
Have turned their backs on me
Excuse me if I'm jaded
I'm so tired of people telling me
How it should be
Their promises have faded
Silence
Silence
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Don't hear a sound
But my own voice
Silence
Is what it is
By my own choice
Silence
song performed by by Tiffany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To a Sleeping Child
Lips, lips, open!
Up comes a little bird that lives inside
Up comes a little bird, and peeps, and out he flies.
All the day he sits inside, and sometimes he sings,
Up he comes, and out he goes at night to spread his wings.
Little bird, little bird, whither will you go?
Round about the world, while nobody can know.
Little bird, little bird, whither do you flee?
Far away around the world, while nobody can see.
Little bird, little bird, how long will you roam?
All round the world and around again home;
Round the round world, and back through the air,
When the morning comes, the little bird is there.
Back comes the little bird and looks and in he flies,
Up wakes the little boy, and opens both his eyes.
Sleep, sleep, little boy, little bird’s away,
Little bird will come again, by the peep of day;
Sleep, little boy, the little bird must go
Round about the world, while nobody can know.
Sleep, sleep sound, little bird goes round,
Round and round he goes; sleep, sleep sound.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sound
In this world
You might have heard
So many sound words
As there was a poet
Non -serious
Using only them
Without any sense
A complete nonsense
But have you ever heard
The sound of a breaking heart
It breaks like a mirror
And the images of memories
Are sent to the cosmos
Have you ever heard the sound of Recycle Bin
No reconciliation is possible
As it produces the sound of breaking friendship
Have you ever dream of breaking faith
It breaks with a cracking sound
When tablets of cyanides are spread in the wind.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Broken Silence
It is strange how sound can travel
on a quiet day;
you can hear someone mowing their lawn
from more than a mile away.
It breaks the silence of where only nature can be heard.
All you hear is the whine of its motor everywhere;
it drowns out the gentle sounds
that are relaxing to the ear.
You will be happy when they finish
and silence returns once more
and your ears are again massaged
by the gentle sounds of the flowing water of a stream
and the twitterings of a small bird’s song.
19 September 2008
poem by David Harris
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On That Day
on that day the color of the sun
shall be as scarlet, as red as drying blood
the clouds shall all be gray
and the sea is darker than blue
the air is humid and the sounds of
rocks grinding themselves to sand
shall be heard. You will not be there
to witness the birth of a new sun
the moons as round as the halo of light
on the head of saint
the silence as deep as the sea
the murkiness you must condemn
but only for a while. The light in your eyes
comes out. The angels sound their trumpet.
The skies split into two.
You shall hear the sound of the rain.
The sky is not empty.
And the stars shall stay.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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My Childless Home
i have a home, not just a house,
you may disagree, but it is a home to me.
my heart longs for it
and my body likes to sleep with it.
i have this home and you may see it
and feel it, like it is your home,
but then you may complain,
there is no sound of a child yawning,
or a kid playing with his toys,
there is none in my home, but it is the sweetest home
i ever had, a simple home, with windows and doors,
a wife serving me dinner, only for the two of us
a table, two plates, two cups,
a set of spoons, a hot soup, and a happy
conversation.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In The Grass.
'Tis as if I saw it all — sat now in the grass, and heard
The soft warm wind in my ears like the lilt of a lonely bird;
Sat now in the grasses so — saw, but said never a word.
The two of them in the wood, below me there by the rill;
He with the light on his brow, she in the shadow still;
And a cloud so white goes over the blue on the gleaming hill.
My nest in the grass was good: they deemed that none might see —
Ah God in heaven! my eyes looked out of the hell in me,
As his arm went round her waist, and his lips where mine might be —
Touched hers, as her face drew up like a flower in the light to his —
Touched hers, as I felt her soul shine out in a dream of bliss;
While mine with the pangs of hell was alive in a world like this!
I dared not move, nor could I shut my eyes to it all;
And still they clung and kissed: I heard the waterfall,
I heard the warm wind sing till the day began to pall.
And then they rose, the twain who had taken my life from me;
I did not rise, but lay where none might hear or see,
In the grass in the dark and sobbed, 'Would God that the end might be!'
The years have come since then, and the years have gone but I,
Though the fever of death was strong upon me, did not die;
And though I am old and weak as upon my couch I lie,
'Tis as if I saw it all — sat still in the grass, and heard
The soft warm wind in my ears like the lilt of a lonely bird;
Sat still in the grasses so — saw, but said never a word.
poem by Robert Crawford
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A Child's Laughter
ALL the bells of heaven may ring,
All the birds of heaven may sing,
All the wells on earth may spring,
All the winds on earth may bring
All sweet sounds together---
Sweeter far than all things heard,
Hand of harper, tone of bird,
Sound of woods at sundawn stirred,
Welling water's winsome word,
Wind in warm wan weather,
One thing yet there is, that none
Hearing ere its chime be done
Knows not well the sweetest one
Heard of man beneath the sun,
Hoped in heaven hereafter;
Soft and strong and loud and light,
Very sound of very light
Heard from morning's rosiest height,
When the soul of all delight
Fills a child's clear laughter.
Golden bells of welcome rolled
Never forth such notes, nor told
Hours so blithe in tones so bold,
As the radiant mouth of gold
Here that rings forth heaven.
If the golden-crested wren
Were a nightingale---why, then,
Something seen and heard of men
Might be half as sweet as when
Laughs a child of seven.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Not A Dry Eye In The House
Not a dry eye in the house
After loves curtain comes down
Listen and youll hear the sound
Hear the sound of a heart breaking
I can still see you standing there
Midnight wind blowing through your hair
Kisses sweet in the salty air
When love was forever
Turn the page and we fade to blue
The scene has changed now Im without you
Walked away when the act was through
And the dream was over
It was almost like a movie - the way you said goodbye
You must have a lot of time rehearsing each and every line
Now theres not a dry eye in the house
After loves curtain comes down
Listen and youll hear the sound
Hear the sound of a heart breaking
Not a smile left on my face
The endings just too sad to take
And theres not a dry eye
Not a dry eye in the house
The greatest story was you and me
Had it all we had everything, but now the
Storys done its just history
The last act is over
You every line had the sweetest sound
Your every touch turned my world around
But the light came up and my world crashed down
End of show - its over
It was almost like a movie
Those nights we touched the stars
Time stood still for you and i
Now its sad enough to make you cry
Now theres not a dry eye in the house
After loves curtain comes down
Listen and youll hear the sound
Hear the sound of a heart breaking
Not a smile left on my face
The endings just too sad to take
And theres not a dry eye
Not a dry eye in the house
Act one - the storys just begun
Act two - I fell in love with you
Act three - knew it was meant to be
Act four - you dont love me no more
And theres not a dry eye in the house
After loves curtain comes down
Listen and youll hear the sound
Hear the sound of a heart breaking
Not a smile left on my face
The endings just too sad to take
And theres not a dry eye
Not a dry eye
Not a dry eye in the house
After loves curtain comes down
Listen and youll hear the sound
Hear the sound of a heart breaking
Not a dry eye in the house (3x)
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Women trees
The hidden flowers of the trees
In their bud breasts
Waiting their colored blooming
In cups
On their old branches
The moss growing on the trunk
Like green thighs
On their very thin old cracked crust
With swelling whitish scattered areolae,
Buzzing bee in their tree honeycomb
Like a voice of the heart letting out its sorrow
Aerating their roots with softer mysteries
Growing up above the ground
Their knee roots allowing the inflow of life
To the fibres
Those trees
Like wooden women statues.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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238
i teach my child by G. Abad
I.
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
They are hardest to learn.
Words like home,
Or friend, or to forgive.
These words are relations.
They are difficult to bear;
Their fruits are unseen.
Or words that promise
Or dream.
Words like honor, or certainty,
Or cheer.
Rarest of sound,
Their roots run deep;
These are words that aspire,
They cast no shade.
These are not words
To speak.
These are the words
Of which we consist,
Indefinite,
Without other ground.
II.
My child
Is without syllables
To utter him,
Captive yet to his origin
In silence.
By every word
To rule his space,
He is released;
He is shaped by his speech.
Every act, too,
Is first without words.
There's no rehearsal
To adjust your deed
From direction of its words.
The words are given,
But there's no script.
Their play is hidden,
We are their stage.
These are the words
That offer to our care
Both sky and earth,
These same words
That may elude our acts.
If we speak them
But cannot meet their sound,
They strand us still
In our void,
Blank like the child
With the uphill silence
Of his words' climb.
And so,
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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i teach my child by G. Abad
I.
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
They are hardest to learn.
Words like home,
Or friend, or to forgive.
These words are relations.
They are difficult to bear;
Their fruits are unseen.
Or words that promise
Or dream.
Words like honor, or certainty,
Or cheer.
Rarest of sound,
Their roots run deep;
These are words that aspire,
They cast no shade.
These are not words
To speak.
These are the words
Of which we consist,
Indefinite,
Without other ground.
II.
My child
Is without syllables
To utter him,
Captive yet to his origin
In silence.
By every word
To rule his space,
He is released;
He is shaped by his speech.
Every act, too,
Is first without words.
There's no rehearsal
To adjust your deed
From direction of its words.
The words are given,
But there's no script.
Their play is hidden,
We are their stage.
These are the words
That offer to our care
Both sky and earth,
These same words
That may elude our acts.
If we speak them
But cannot meet their sound,
They strand us still
In our void,
Blank like the child
With the uphill silence
Of his words' climb.
And so,
I teach my child
To survive.
I begin with our words,
The simple words first
And last.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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