0031 Check-off
'Who was listening
when I apologised
for my life? '
I jotted that down
in a moment of regret
over the wasted things
of life, that is, my life..
and thought, that
sounds a bit like dialogue
or rather monologue to audience
stage or stalls
in Chekhov
so if no-one was listening
well, that's that
but suppose that 'everything'
was listening, and made
changes so subtle that
they'll go unnoticed except
that I find I have
nothing to apologise for
even to myself
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Black Bruises II
I can ponder upon the blackness,
the garrulous of silence
placated by benign solitude
I can endure the ostracizing
listening to lulling lullabies,
listening to trembling metals,
listening to enraptured echoes,
listening to a soundless shattering,
listening to nothingness,
listening to guffawing crows,
listening to diffident clocks,
listening to the waning time;
but am I the only one listening
to these black bruised whispers?
poem by Norman Santos
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0008 A Ghazal
I lie awake as the light night-rain falls, listening
to its irregularities, listening
as the breeze blows it now and then
against the window and the curtain flutters; listening
and wondering if I can hear
the rain listening
to itself, as if – I sometimes think I hear this –
there’s a moment just before it stops as if listening
to its own decision to stop, as if it sighs,
thinks, that’s enough; it could be listening
to the gratitude of the closed flowers, the wet earth,
the ecstasy of roots which are themselves listening
to the flowers sleeping, sighing in their sleep.
But do you wonder why I’m listening
instead of sleeping, this warm rainy night?
What’s so important that it needs my listening?
It was the rain that woke me; and as I turned, sighed,
it was the thought of you last night here next to me, listening
not to me, but to your own dreams – which I may never share;
though I may share you in my listening
to your sweet sleep’s breath, felt faintly on my shoulder;
and so, there’s a question in my listening –
did you awake at the same night rain, you so far away,
awake, sigh, and in your half-awakened listening
know that I too, thought of you?
Sighed that sweet thought, of our shared, single listening? …
As the perfume of a rose may be more evocative than the rose,
So sweeter, steadier than thought, dream, memory – the listening!
[A ghazal has a rhyme scheme aa ba ca da >]
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Listening
Listening.
And being there for someone loved...
To do just that!
With a mind willing,
To be receptive and clear...
Of opinions sitting,
On the tip of one's tongue.
With a giving of attention,
And staying mum.
Listening to someone.
Listening is not easily done.
For those who have experienced...
A life in which peace of mind has come.
When a listening ear,
Had not been volunteered by no one.
And some who know this...
Do their best to sit with patience.
Listening with no other reason...
But to be there as is wished.
For someone who has selected you,
Just for this.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Listening Week
This is the listening week of the year
Listening-in.
A-cock and alert is the national ear
Listening-in.
All over the land in the country towns,
From the back of the Leeuwin to Darling Downs,
Layers of 'quids' or the odd half-crowns,
They are listening-in.
On the far-flung farms they are round each set,
Listening-in.
The work and the worry they all forget,
Listening-in.
Wherever an aerial soars in space
To the Cup, or the Oaks or the Steeplechase,
To the roar of the ring and the lure of the race
They are listening-in.
In the far outback there are sun-tanned men,
Listening-in.
Where the woolshed stands by the drafting pen
Listening-in.
Old Dad's come in from the Ninety Mile;
He scored on the Cup and he wears a smile,
And he 'reckons this game is well worth while'
So he's listening in.
To the edge of the desert the sound-waves go;
And, listening-in,
Ned of the Overland, Saltbush Joe
Listening-in
Recall the giants of years long past,
And the loneliness of these spaces vast;
But they reckon that life's worth living at last
With this listening-in.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Listening To Hearts In Need
listening to need in others
listening to need in voices
is a layman's confessional
our listening without comment
without bias prejudice judgement
helps people in need define accept
within themselves
changes life decisions
they need to make
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Dear God, are you listening
With every breath of cigarette smoke
that escapes his lips
the color of her spirit progressively fades
Dear God are you listening?
With every sip of alcohol
that flows through his body
her trust in her once hero weakens
Dear God are you listening?
With every pill
she takes for her escape
her life becomes a blur
Dear God are you listening?
It's me..
Your daughter
But she hears
No reply
No response
just silence
emptiness
and nothing at all
She closes her eyes
in the night
and as her life
is drifting away
she then hears
Yes my daughter
I am listening
I am here with you
I will never leave you alone
Remember my daughter
you are never alone
I would rather do a play because it's instantaneous. You go on the stage, and you know whether it's happening or not. Somebody asked me "what is acting?" And I said, "acting is listening." And if you ain't listening, nobody's listening.
quote by Charles Durning
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In The Meadow
I asked the silver one on one
Tell me who I am
Lines on your finger says
You wouldnt understand
I asked the silver one on one
Tell me whats the score
Lies on your picture says
You wouldnt need much more
In the meadow
I asked oblivion just for fun
Tell me what to say
Climb up the mountain boy
And look the other way
I asked a million questions
Of the world I want to be
And the signs I remember
Whos the one they got to me
In the meadow,
Looking for life in the world
Everythings fine
In the meadow
Ceilings so high
Life might be listening
So we better take our time
We asked a wonder one on one
Please tell me what to be
Call down the miracles
And save yourself for me
We asked a river one on one
Please tell me what you see
I see forever
And it looks like you and me
In the meadow
Looking for life in the world
Everythings fine
In the meadow
Ceilings so high
Life might be listening
So we better take our time
In the meadow
Looking for life in the world
In the meadow
Everythings fine
In the meadow
Ceilings so high
Life might be listening
So we better take our time
In the meadow
In the meadow
Looking for life
In the meadow
Feeling so fine
In the meadow
Seeming so high
Life might be listening
Life might be listening
So we better take our time
In the meadow
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Christening
Yes, yes there's a new world dawning
Get dressed, quit dreaming you're falling
Take notes and I'll tell you when you got it right
No, no you can leave your attitude
You're the only one it seems to matter to Count votes and you'll see it in a
brand new light
Why can't you be a man about it
Let me turn you into someone new
I'm screaming in a fan
I doubt that any of my words will make it through
This is your christening
Find out what you been missing and
I promise it'll make you fell better
This is your christening
The audience is listening
Baby, baby we're a perfect pairing
Walk in the room and they can't stop staring
I've gotten used to it, I've gotten used to you
You'll never, never land another like me
I think you're clever, please don't try to fight me
Take notes and I'll tell you when you got it right
Why can't you be a man about it
Let me turn you onto something new
I'm screaming in a fan
I doubt that any of my words will make it through
This is your christening
Find out what you been missing and
I promise it'll make you fell better
This is your christening
The audience is listening
This is your christening
Find out what you been missing and
I promise it'll make you fell better
This is your christening
The audience is listening
Why can't you be a man about it
(There's a new world dawning)
We're swimming in a painted fountain
(There's a new world dawning)
This is your christening
Find out what you been missing and
I promise it'll make you fell better
This is your christening
The audience is listening...
song performed by by Tiffany
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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0013 And, Friend...
and if you wonder, friend, why I begin
a poem thus – you are to understand
that it’s as if
we have been close friends all our life,
friends, as Kabir defined a friend
as if no-one ever tried to speak of friend before –
friends, who share the silences between their words
as much as sharing their most inward thoughts;
so, our conversation’s just as much
a continuation of our friendship,
wasting no time in speaking passing things,
sharing some new thought in turn
and asking more for listening
than easy agreement for politeness’ sake;
for, we’re listening to the allness of the all -
all that has been said and
all that cannot yet be said
but thought in silences, in pauses between speech,
all that we might say
when we find words in which to say it,
and because
there’s not much time, to say what we would say
and so, we speak of that which time
can never steal; so there is always time
to speak, and hear the silence
out of which speech comes;
listening for the unspoken
bringing miracles
poem by Michael Shepherd
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S.O.S.
Is anybody listening?
Can they hear me when I call?
I'm shooting signals in the air
'Cause I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
So I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening
Listening
I'll be standing here and I'm miles away
Making signals hoping they'd save me
I lock myself inside these walls
'Cause out there I'm always wrong
I don't think I'm gonna make it
So while I'm sitting here
On the eve of my death bed
I'll write this letter and hope it saves me
Is anybody listening?
Can they hear me when I call?
Shooting signals in the air
'Cause I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
So I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening
Listening
I'm stuck in my own head and I'm oceans away
Would anybody notice if I chose to stay?
I'll send and SOS tonight
Wonder if I will survive
How in the hell did I get so far away this time
So now I'm sitting here
The time of my departure's near
I say a prayer
Please someone save me
Is anybody listening?
Can they hear me when I call?
Shooting signals in the air
'Cause I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
So I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening
Listening
I'm lost here
I can't make it on my own
I don't wanna die alone
I'm so scared
Drowning now
Reaching out
Holding on to everything I love
Crying out
Dying now
Need some help
Is anybody listening?
Can you hear me when I call?
Shooting signals in the air
I need somebody's help
I can't make it on my own
I'm giving up myself
Is anybody listening?
song performed by by Good Charlotte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not Here To Coddle Those Who Model In A Molded Moaning Done
Your gruffed up stuff,
Has gotten to be over-the-top.
And far too much.
To say I've had enough,
Is an understatement...
From a tongue I 'try' to hush.
Listening how your life is too tough,
Has made it difficult sometimes...
To keep my own mouth shut.
Take this hint from me,
Sympathies are not as freely given...
As they use to be.
And forget about 'empathy'!
'You' will not get that from me at all.
I've had enough of listening,
How your life is too tough.
And the suffering you've done,
With a daily roughness...
You can not overcome!
Why can't you hush up that 'muscle'
And muffle it?
No one 'here' wants to hear,
That continuous 'ssshhhssstuff'!
You've created that rut.
I've got a motto I choose to follow.
I'm not here to coddle those who model,
In a molded moaning of their lives...
That's done a lot!
I've had to stop.
Your gruffed up stuff,
Has gotten to be over-the-top.
And far too much.
To say I've had enough,
Is an understatement...
From a tongue I 'try' to hush.
Listening how your life is too tough,
Has made it difficult sometimes...
To keep my own mouth shut.
But I am learning.
Some lessons taught,
Are not as easy to learn as others!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Jaws
Seven nations stood with their hands on the jaws of death.
It was the first week in August, Nineteen Hundred Fourteen.
I was listening, you were listening, the whole world was listening,
And all of us heard a Voice murmuring:
“I am the way and the light,
He that believeth on me
Shall not perish
But shall have everlasting life.”
Seven nations listening heard the Voice and answered:
“O Hell!”
The jaws of death began clicking and they go on clicking.
“O Hell!”
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Tales of Those Now Listening
Folks now gone.
With advice given ignored but shared...
Surfacing upon once deaf ears,
Suddenly heard...
As if from no where!
Those maturing with a wisdom,
Brought upon by age and reflecting...
Leave some to ask,
'Mama 'why' did I not listen then?
Daddy, we had our differences...
But what you tried to express,
I confess...
Seemed so old fashion and useless.
And when the two of you restricted me,
From doing things that would bring harm...
I thought my world would end.'
And the tales of those now listening...
Are as old although they remain ever so fresh.
And the listening somehow is heard,
Clearer now than it has ever been.
Some are spoken to their hard headed children.
With a hope 'something' learned,
Will sink into their thick and disrespecting skins.
But these tales of those now listening,
And delivered...
Seem to breathe new life,
As each generation applies an innovative affliction.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Turn Off The World
Got to pull it up
Got to pull it out
Got to survive
Got to stay calm
Got to think fast
Dont want to burn
Searching for a door
Searching for a way
Out of this thing
I dont know whats wrong
Dont know what to do
Im out of control
Nothing I can do
Nothing seems to work
Im barely alive
Got to slow it down
Got to do something
Or give in
Watching us fall
Trying everything
Fighting for life
Running out of time
I dont have a choice
Im riding it in
Im inside and Im trying to get out
Im inside and Im screaming for some help
And everythings gone wrong
Im listening to the sound of my own fear
Im listening to the sound of someones tears
Im listening to me
This is the fear
This is nothing like
You could believe
Panic in my heart
Like a cold hand
Pulling at strings
Ill do anything
Even pray to god
Just let me out
Turn off the machine
Turn off all the noise
Turn off the world
Im inside and Im trying to get out
Im inside and Im screaming for some help
And everythings gone wrong
Im listening to the sound of my own fear
Im listening to the sound of someones tears
Im listening to me
Im inside and Im trying to get out
Im inside and Im screaming for some help
And everythings gone wrong
Im listening to the sound of my own fear
Im listening to the sound of someones tears
Im listening to me
You learn fast when everything breaks down
You learn fast when thats all that you can do
You learn fast or nothing
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just there
Between two who are talking;
above two who are silent;
in the listening
after wisdom spoken;
the moment as the pen’s put down;
the moment after the book is lowered;
between two thoughts;
just before speech;
as cup’s put back on saucer;
knife and fork sing plate;
just before the inward breath,
and just after the outward breath,
between the warm memory
and the fond association;
just before the smile is smiled;
when the last tear has dropped;
just as silence forgets sound;
just as stillness forgets movement;
as all thought surpasses thought
as if no thought had ever been;
the moment before music starts;
the moment after music ceases;
the moment before words come;
just before the poem speaks;
between the listening
and the hearing;
all these gathered in your heart
just before you give it name.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Bouncing Off The Walls
She's ecstatic
She can't help it
She's bouncing off the walls again
Listening to her favorite love songs
Chatting with her man
Recalling old times
Bring up old memories
Listening to her favorite love songs
Shes bouncing off the walls again
Cause her love maybe coming back into her life
While listening to her favorite love songs
I think she has a permanent smile on her face
She's bouncing off the walls again
Drinking English Breakfast tea and listening to her favorite love songs
(5-1-05)
poem by Brandi Young
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Rest Stop
Just three miles from the rest stop
And she slams on the breaks
She said I tried to be but Im not
And could you please collect your things
I dont wanna be cold
I dont wanna be cruel
But I gotta find more
Than whats happening with you
If youd - open up the door
She said - while you were sleeping
I was listening to the radio
And wondering what youre dreaming when
It came to mind that I didnt care
So I thought - hell if its over
I had better end it quick
Or I could lose my nerve
Are you listening - can you hear me
Have you forgotten
Just three miles from the rest stop
And my mouths too dry to rage
The light was shining from the radio
I could barely see her face
But she knew all the words that I never had said
She knew the crumpled-up promise of this
Broken down man - and as I opened up the door
She said - while you were sleeping
I was listening to the radio
And wondering what youre dreaming when
It came to mind that I didnt care
So I thought - hell if its over
I had better end it quick
Or I could lose my nerve
Are you listening - can you hear me
Have you forgotten
She said - while you were sleeping
I was listening to the radio
And wondering what youre dreaming when
It came to mind that I didnt care
So I thought - hell if its over
I had better end it quick
Or I could lose my nerve
Are you listening - can you hear me
While you were sleeping
I was listening to the radio
And wondering what youre dreaming when
It came to mind that I didnt care
So I thought - hell if its over
I had better end it quick
Or I could lose all my nerve
Are you listening - can you hear me
song performed by by Matchbox Twenty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nobody's Listening
I have a heart full of pain,
I tried to give you everything,
But I noticed that nobody’s listening,
I tried to warn you,
I told you everything I know,
But nobody’s listening,
Thank you for ignoring me,
Giving me this heartache,
You caused me to see what was unknown from the start,
I want hear you say those words,
That you don’t love me no more,
Want to hear you say you hate me,
I knew this was never real,
I have so much pain that can not understand,
But nobody’s listening to me,
Ignore me, hate me, punch me,
Just let me know that you weren’t listening to me from the start.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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0406 The Summer Evening Music That Never Ended
It was such a warm summer evening
that the music that was promised us
after the evening meal, called to meet
the open air. I wondered, would it work,
would the delicacy of the music’s fine woven tapestry,
the shaped fine wood of instruments,
fine sounds from strings, flute, clarinet,
find themselves, or lose themselves,
on the mown front lawn before the house,
under the heavens’ curve?
Chairs, music stands, cello’s spike
were settled in the grassy earth; skirts arranged;
stillness as the group began to hear
each other’s silence and the music
not yet played; not far away; but almost here.
Something complete, it seemed,
was in the air.
Music began; acquired attitudes of listening
settled on the audience; and then, unannounced,
magic descended. Someone
who knew life so intimately, so completely,
who had passed through it even while
they lived it, was telling me in my inner ear
what life was, is, all about; in detail –
it’s like this; and this; this sweetness,
that sweetness; this sadness, that sadness;
sweetness that’s sad, sadness that is sweet;
all held like a gentle fountain - bubbling continuous,
yet gloriously and joyously, ever fresh;
to be welcomed, not to be judged or resisted,
(the hearing of it was way beyond such things)
for it held - listening to it now afresh, it holds -
all that may be known, that may be lived; this is life itself;
this, this is simply, how it is...
The sound is with me now; music told me;
this is how it is.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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