Externals....
outside i hear murmurs
of children, shouts of mature men
calling their women,
sweeping the yard of dry leaves
from trees of last night's
storms
i hear screeching sounds of
cars heading to the city
rushing
as though they are always
late for
appointments
the school bus carries the
teeming sounds of
kindergarten kids whose mothers
keep on saying
God bless you all and i
who is supposed to be at work
in my cubicle
just a stone throw away from
where i am seated
still keeps on tracking voices
that cover the inner voice
of my longings
it is frail and fading
and humming and still wanting
to conceal the true notes
of its song
e.e. Cummings, it says,
it wants, the rhythm
of comings, but i must have been
in the wrong direction
for a long while now
i have always focused on the
ambulant sounds
of departures
loud and deep at first
and then
fading and thin
like a needle finally
dropping on the
hay floor.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Love You Out Loud
I sit in my living room thinking of you
And the feelings I fear are coming true
And everything about you is wrong I know it
But I still taste you on my tongue
And I still breathe you in my lungs
And I wish I could stop breaking down
Wish I could love you out loud
Wish I could love you out loud
But I'll just keep it to myself
Wish I could hear how it sounds
To be with you and no one else
Don't make a sound
Don't tell a soul
It's 7:00am and I just want to call you
And tell you I'm falling in love
But, there's someone else inside these four walls
If she smells you on my skin
I can't let her know where I've been
I wish I could be with you now
Wish I could love you out loud
Wish I could love you out loud
But I'll just keep it to myself
Wish I could hear how it sounds
To be with you and no one else
Wish I could love you out loud
Because I'm under your spell
Wish I could tell the whole world
But I'll just keep it to myself
Don't make a sound
Don't tell a soul
Don't tell them anything
And I won't let you go
Don't say a word
Don't tell a soul
And I shiver at the thought of you
I can't believe that you love me too
And we quiver when we touch
I can't believe I love you so much
And I hate it when you walk away
I know we can't go on this way
But there's magic when we touch
I can't believe I love you so much
Wish I could love you out loud
Wish I could hear how it sounds
Wish I could love you out loud
Wish I could hear how it sounds
Wish I could love you out loud
But I'll just keep it to myself
Wish I could hear how it sounds
To be with you and no one else
Wish I could love you out loud
Because I'm under your spell
Wish I could tell the whole world
But I'll just keep it to myself
Don't make a sound
Don't tell a soul
Don't tell them anything
And I won't let you go
Wish I could love you out loud
But I'll just keep it to myself
Wish I could hear how it sounds
To be with you and no one else
Wish I could love you out loud
Because I'm under your spell
Wish I could tell the whole world
But I'll just keep it to myself
Wish I could love you out loud
Wish I could hear how it sounds
Wish I could love you out loud
Wish I could hear how it sounds
Wish I could love you out loud
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why Did You Burn That Boat?
try living in an island
just you and the coconut trees
hear the sounds of birds
migrating
sounds of flocks
fading in a distance
what is left is the
song of this river
the changing hues of the skies
the coldness at night
stories that you repeatedly
tell upon yourself
there is a boat that is ready for your exit
towards the city
what did you burn it?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Long Song Comin
Politician 'bout to make his speech
Signal for attention, please
Then he shuffled his notes
And wiped his sweating brow
I looked at my friend next to me
And we don't dare agree
Before this is over
We'll wish we woulda left right now
'Cause it sounds like a long song comin'
And it looks like he might throw in a little dancin', too
Yes, it sounds like a long song comin'
And buddy, listen buddy
We got better things to listen to
Lady from a church bizarre
Was smiling from her head to her feet
All the way down to her feet
That she couldn't see
She started speeking her piece
I said "Stop, Wait a minute, please
Before you start talkin'
I wish you'd please listen to me."
'Cause it sounds like a long song comin'
And though some of the things you say might be true
It still sounds like a long song comin'
And baby, listen lady, I got better things to listen to
Yes, it sounds like a long song comin'
And it looks like you might throw in a little dancin', too
Yes, it sounds like a long song comin'
And buddy, listen buddy, I got better things to listen to
Say, so it sounds like a long song comin'
And it sounds like some just might be true
Still it sounds like a long song comin'
And buddy, listen buddy, I got better things to listen to
And buddy, listen buddy, we got better things to listen to
song performed by by Bob Seger
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 The Earth
i feel the sounds of the earth,
cant say how or why!
the hurtling swagger of rivers,
the deep bass stillness of mountains.
the whispered longing of the trees,
dancing naked in moonlight.
the hymn of the grasses,
calling forth life.
the groan of the earth,
just turned by the plow!
i hear the reggae beat of the cities,
the hum of movement and work.
the chords of factories and mills,
the horns blown by the shops.
even the hollow beat
of business, of buy and sell.
and the low gutteral moan,
of the homeless, jobless, and lost.
feet without names,
marching without direction.
the cries of young children
afraid and hungry in the night.
the bang of the idol chasers,
the wranglers, and the pimps...
some working the market,
some working the parish.
i hear the sounds of the demons,
that cry war in the night.
that bang the bloody drums
of patriotism and fear.
i hear the sounds of the guns,
the thunder of the bombs.
the last prayers of young men,
dying alone in their fear.
i hear the shuffle of the money,
the boots beneath the table.
i hear the sound of the shovels,
digging grave after grave.
i hear the pen on the page,
as history is written,
in a book that not even
hell could contain!
i hear the churning of stomachs,
the grating of bones.
the tremble beneath
paper thin flesh.
i hear bare feet on the road,
the poor seeking refuge.
i hear the women weeping
as child after child dies.
and i hear the clank of glasses,
food shoveled on plates.
the shallow laughter,
the hypnotic hum of excess.
the condemning guilt,
food thrown in the trash.
the restless panting of the dogs,
just outside the door.
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Broken Sleep
Broken sleep comes to me
sometimes when I think of thee.
The shadows of the night falls
eerily on my bedroom walls
as I hear your nightly sounds.
I listen an am content to hear
these sounds I've heard for so many a night.
My broken sleep is quite alright.
You do not know I lay awake
alert to all the sounds you make.
My one pointless wish is that I could be
where your dreams have gone.
And who knows? Maybe I'm there
for you may have taken me along.
But will you remember where?
I'll ask you in the morning dear
and see if you can let it appear?
And if you can't I will not weep
as long as I have my broken sleep
to hear your nightly sounds.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Night Song
Listen
The city is singin' its night song
A city of shadows and fading starlight
Mixed with bar light
Listen
The empty streets echo the right song
A melody I used to think was only for the
Lonely
Night song
I hear you
Now as the night disappears
But this time
Your blues
Is music to my ears
The rumble of the train
The rustle of the wind
The rhythm of the footsteps
The blarin' of a horn
The murmur of a voice
The echo of a siren
Night song!
You used to find me cryin' in my beer
Now you remind me tomorrow she'll be here
She'll be here!
Oh, night song
You sing of a train from New Orleans
And deep in the music I hear her hummin'
Now she's coming home!
The city is singin' its night song
Listen
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vestige
"This is the reality I need, the vestige of God in His creatures." Thomas Merton, When the Trees Say Nothing: Writings on Nature
Bright day,
seaward breezes
clearing the sky,
Can you feel the chill?
Can you hear sounds of
rushing trees,
of mockingbirds
calling
cawing crows?
Behind life's song
can you hear the beat,
the steady
basso continuo?
Oh, just gaze
hard enough
into the
living blue,
and be it!
You'll climb the
bright back of night
and enter into
the song -
the song
in the mind
of God.
poem by Steven Federle
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The Scent Of The Rhythm
When the birds would chirp
and fill the air with joy
When the owls would cry
and send the thrills of terror and sorrow
When the drums would sound
and lift the cold hearts to the dance floor
But now voices crying
and tears streaming
i hear the sounds so demanding
the bowels of living
Life: the depths of searching
with no scent of healing
but a stench of ailing
The scent of the rhythm keeps fading
poem by Timothy muggaga
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You Hear Nature's Voice
You hear Nature's voice in the river that ever flows on towards the sea
A voice destined to live forever that has lived for untold centuries
From the foothills of the high country it babbles downhill night and day
By groves and by ditches and hedgerows to saltwater it winds it's way.
You hear Nature's voice in her birdsong their music carrying in the breeze
The sounds that the freshening winds make rustling in the leaves of the trees
Some of the happier sounds of Nature though to Nature there's another side
When Nature she shouts out her anger all others from her seek a safe place to hide.
When Nature she grows very angry the fear of the World is in her cry
She shakes the Earth flattens great buildings she roars and her lightning flashes in the sky
She crackles when her forests burn leaving blackness and smoke everywhere
With the power of Nature in a fury none other can hope to compare.
You hear Nature's voice in all Seasons Winter, Spring and Summer and Fall
And you hear Nature's voice in the night-time when her nocturnal creatures do call
Nature's voice will live on forever 'tis something not destined to die
As Nature herself does not have a time span as such are for mortals such as I.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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Summer Return
the sounds of summer
starting up
in the revving, humming engines
of lawnmowers thawing out
from the long winter’s freeze
the voices of children
carried on the evening distances,
reveling in
sunlight after dinner,
homework laid aside for now
until late-night sunset beckons
the insistent birds and crickets
who cheer the warming air
as night’s cool breath
lets go and offers day,
one step closer
to the sounds of summer
starting up again
(Summer,2005, Los Lunas, New Mexico)
poem by Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson
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Noise
Dads stuck in the factory, machines are banging all around.
Mommas in the kitchen, she got the radio on all the time.
My little sisters screaming, and stamping on the ground.
And the radio keeps pumping out the same old boring sound.
All I hear is noise.
Cant get away from the noise.
Can you hear me above the noise?
Can you, can you, can you, can you, can you, can you hear me?
Can you hear the noise? (noise)
Cant get away from the noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
Can you, can you, can you, can you, can you, can you hear me?
Banging in my ears, in every direction.
Listen to the roar, hear that city[? ], poundin, poundin.
There oughta be a law, hey buddy, turn that radio down.
Sometimes I get used to it and I forget that its around.
But all I hear is noise. (noise)
Cant get away from noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
All of this confusion is ruining my day.
Let the noise be like the sunset, and slowly fade away.
Fading, fade.
Girl, I want to build a better world for me and you.
I wanna pull out all the plugs before I finally blow my fuse.
Wish all the confusion would slowly fade away.
Id tell you that I love you, but you dont hear what I way.
All you hear is noise. (noise)
Cant get away from noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
Can you, can you, can you, can you, can you, can you hear me?
Noise in the street, theyre digging up the pavement.
Noise in the air, those traffic jams are everywhere.
Noise on noise, to cover up the noise.
The pressures building up because theres no way to avoid,
All the noise. (noise)
Cant get away from noise. (noise)
Can you hear me above the noise? (noise)
All of this confusion is ruining my day.
Let the noise be like the sunset, and slowly fade away.
Fading, fading.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whores of life
There's a lady in his room screaming
and this is the night of healing
where passion is the king of the setting
There's a bone in his flesh screeching
and that is the name of the soul fading
But i'll ask you...
do you see the sky falling
whenever you think you are flying
do you hear the music fading
whenever your passion is calling
Don't cheat life just like that
cause death will catch up with you
Don't punish the innocent children
cause every man's got a half rib
don't flirt with deception you whores!
poem by Timothy muggaga
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The Sounds
I can hear her heart beat
It seams a little strong
I can hear the things I did wrong
I can hear her thoughts
By looking in her eyes
I can hear her all the times she cried
I can hear the memories
As they echo off the wall
Falling from the pictures down the hall
I can hear regret
Building up in side of me
And I can hear all the things
I could not see
Those are the sounds of a woman leaving
Stronger then the wind in a willow tree
Those are the sounds of a heart breaking
You can't hear it
But the noise is killing me
I should of heard it coming
But I chose to pretend
I should of recognizes that sound
Way back then
But I just wouldn't listen didn't want to all those years
Now the truth is ringing clear
In my ears
Those are the sounds of a woman leaving
Stronger then the wind in willow tree
Those are the sounds of a heart breaking
You can't hear it
But the noise is killing me
Those are the sounds of a heart breaking
You can't hear it
But the noise is killing me
I can hear it
And the silent is killing me
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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An Ode To Poetry
i am buried in these noise
the demands shout like
market vendors
sometimes one is confused
where to start
seemingly there is no end
to all these bickering
spaces expand
distances travel like fading sounds of the day
there are storms
i am frightened but you
are there
that comforting whisper
to my ear
sweet sounds of sorrow
gentle groans of gypsy
ohh, poetry pampered...
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Darkness
In darkness
Where my dreams are all too clear
Darkness, darkness
Filled with all the sounds of fear
I hear voices (dont turn out the light)
Calling faraway
I see shadows (dont turn out the light)
Moving, changing shape
And the clock stops
As darkness closes in
I hesitate but its too late
I scream and scream again
I hear colours black and red
I see sounds that fill my head
Ill never read those books again
In darkness
Where my dreams are all too clear
Darkness, darkness
Filled with all the sounds of fear
I hear voices (dont turn out the light)
Calling faraway
I see shadows (dont turn out the light)
Moving, changing shape
Dont turn out the light (dont turn out the light)
Or Ill go over the edge
Dont turn out the light (dont turn out the light)
Or Ill go over the edge
In darkness
Where my dreams are all too clear
Darkness, darkness
Filled with all the sounds of fear
I hear voices (dont turn out the light)
Calling faraway
I see shadows (dont turn out the light)
Moving, changing shape
I hear voices (dont turn out the light)
Calling faraway
I see shadows (dont turn out the light)
Moving, changing shape
song performed by by Human League
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elliot's Oak
Thou ancient oak! whose myriad leaves are loud
With sounds of unintelligible speech,
Sounds as of surges on a shingly beach,
Or multitudinous murmurs of a crowd;
With some mysterious gift of tongues endowed,
Thou speakest a different dialect to each;
To me a language that no man can teach,
Of a lost race, long vanished like a cloud.
For underneath thy shade, in days remote,
Seated like Abraham at eventide
Beneath the oaks of Mamre, the unknown
Apostle of the Indians, Eliot, wrote
His Bible in a language that hath died
And is forgotten, save by thee alone.
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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And Then
Outside I hear the sounds of children,
the sounds do not get louder or softer,
just a small stone in the hand of a morning,
legs splayed and weak obscurely in cotton,
falling asleep again I scramble up a nightslope,
dirt and gravel shoot from underneath my bare feet
and then
I dream of my first day at school, the smell of
stale milk and wet raincoats, the crying of lost children.
This is an unexpected return, as if I will never wake again
to the sound of the paperboy opening the creaky gate.
poem by Leslie Philibert
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