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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The Sounds, Within And Without
have you ever listened
to the sounds of
a young boy praying
after his father and mother
have split up
have you heard the sound
a small animal makes when
it's hit by a car?
kinda like the sound a child makes
when it's split open by friendly fire!
have you felt the deep down
sound the young boy makes
when the judge sentences him
to hard time
the sound you cant see on his face
have you heard the sound
of the old man's heart
fighting to hold on
in an empty room
with the curtains pulled
have you ever heard the sound
of the wolf's howl, and
the hawk's scree
buried deep beneath
the layers that cover
your own wildness
are you listening
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Sound Of Silence
Hello darkness, my old friend,
I've come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
'Neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence.
"Fools" said I, "You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you."
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the sign said, "The words of the prophets
are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls."
And whisper'd in the sounds of silence.
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Sound Of Silence
Hello darkness, my old friend,
Ive come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence.
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence.
Fools said i, you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you.
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon God they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the sign said, the words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whisperd in the sounds of silence.
song performed by by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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Sounds Of Silence
=======================================
Simon & Garfunkel - The Sound of Silence
=======================================
(3:06)
P. Simon, 1964
Hello darkness, my old friend
I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
'Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turn my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never shared
No one dared
Disturb the sound of silence
"Fools," said I, "you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you"
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed in the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sound of silence
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel
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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The Perfect Storm
That sound... it falls all around us with such grace... yet you still hear it's cries upon the sand and stone... and when u think tht nothing could b more amazing... the skies light up with different shades of blue and grey.. thunder rumbles in the distance.... that sound... it's precious melody flowing through my heart and for that I feel as though I am at peace... as my minds at ease and my body is still... I lay there listening to the pitter patter of the rain... for it is The Perfect Storm
poem by Adela Myers
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The Sound Of The Rain
do not mislead me with the
point-of-view of the frog
you croak and you say this
is how something beautiful
sounds, how ugliness feigns
i tell you i like the rain and
the frog likes it too, i am
one of those frogs bathing
and jumping on the pond,
but do not mislead me with
your sound, it does not sound
like the hush of the wind,
it has no color of the moon,
i am one of the frogs of this
pond, but i do not wish to
sound like you: i am in love
with the sound of the rain,
and this is the one that makes
me stay. It is not you, your
sound is not gentle, it is
rough like the skin of the
teething toad. I love the
rain, the way it sounds,
and that is enough
for my suffering.
Dripping.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Overnight Angels
(ian hunter)
In the heat of the indian summer
Out along the appalachian way
You can hear the sound of the overnight angels
As they pray
Charged by the light of some mariners lantern
Spitting out a cold but triangular spray
Cant you hear the screams of the overnight angels
As they play
Talking to the spirits through a silver curtain
Reaching out beyond the length of the light
You can catch a glimpse of an overnight angel
As he shines
Dancing through the toys of the dead and the living
Laughing at the poets changing their rhymes
Cant you feel the pulse of the overnight angels
Beating time
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels
Children of the junkies led the revolution
Push yourselves over get yourselves there
Someone throw their arms round the overnight angels
Cause they care
Angels dont need no phony religion
Throw them out along with the ethnic nowheres
They will never speak to the overnight angels
They can only stare
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels
Can you hear us can you hear us
Were talking bout the overnight angels angels angels angels
Angels angels angels angels
Angels angels angels angels
Angels angels angels angels
Overnight angels
Overnight angels
Talking about
The overnight angels
(fade)
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Your Name
The most beautiful sound I've ever heard
is the sound that's contained in just one word,
Your name.
Your name I have said since we were young.
The feel of it as it rolls off my tongue
leaves me to wonder how it can be
that just your name is heaven to me.
It's short and it's sweet and when it's said
images of you are all in my head.
How you look in the morning light,
how you feel in the dark of night,
how you move from day to day,
how you know just what to say.
All of these things do remain.
They're part of all that keeps me sane.
Your name, Your name.
If all other sounds were taken away
and your name was the only sound to stay,
the glories of heaven would shine on my ears
as I heard your name
for the rest of my years.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Saint Cloud
Soft spread the southern sumer night
Her veil of darksome blue;
Ten thousand stars combined to light
The terrace of Saint Cloud.
The evening breezes gently sigh'd,
Like breath of lover true,
Bewailing the deserted pride
And wreck of sweet Saint Cloud.
The drum's deep roll was heard afar,
The bugle wildly blew
Good-night to Hulan and Hussar
That garrison Saint Cloud.
The startled Naiads from the shade
With broken urns withdrew
And silenced was that proud cascade,
The glory of Saint Cloud.
We sate upon its steps of stone,
Nor could its silence rue
When waked, to music of our own,
The echoes of Saint Cloud.
Slow Seine might hear each lovely note
Fall light as summer dew
While through the moonless air they float
Prolong'd from fair Saint Cloud.
And sure a melody more sweet
His waters never knew,
Though music's self was wont to meet
With Princes at Saint Cloud.
Nor then, with more delighted ear,
The circle round her drew,
Than ours, when gather'd round to hear
Our songstress at Saint Cloud.
Few happy hours poor mortals pass-—
Then give those hours their due,
And rank among the foremost class
Our evenings at Saint Cloud.
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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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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The Beautiful
Theres a bar on my head
Theres a cross for my bed
Theres my heart in my hand
Theres my stick in the sand
Here where the world starts spinning round
take a ride and youll feel what youve never found
Here when the stars start fading out
you hear the angels laughing without a sound
Welcome to the beautiful
She sits here far away
in my breast, in my grace
Shes the best the best of me
She my love, shes my queentalking to me
And when your world starts spinning down
take a ride and youll feel what you never found
When the stars start fading out
You hear the angels laughing without a sound
Welcome to the beautiful
I met myself just today
Came alive in my grave
And Im the best, the best of me
For you my love for you Ill be
When the world starts slowing down
Take a ride and youll feel what you never found
And as the stars are fading out
I hear the angels laughing without a sound
Welcome to the beautifulthe beautiful
song performed by by Five For Fighting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What If
What if sunshine
Perchance, made a sound…
What kind of sound
Wouldst one think It to be?
Would it shriek e’er so loudly…
And pummel the ground…
Or settle like snowflakes
Drifting down… tranquilly
Pray tell, what sound…
Would clouds and haze make
Would they screech and grind
Mayhaps rasp and scrape?
What if…fog made a thoughtful thrum
And mist an insistent hiss…
And rainbows the sound of a blowing nose
What, the sound… of scent of rose… consist?
What if… a look of awe… made noise
And an angry stare could thunder?
What would be the sound of toys
And what the sound of plunder?
What if…one could hear a moonbeam
Or perceive the sound of a shooting star
And what if only fools and idiots could hear them
Would they know how lucky (or cursed) They are?
What if… only a select favored few
Could opt to hear
this other-worldly hymn
And the choice was offered up to you
What if…the sounds ne’er heard
Could be sounds rung loud and true
Ne’er heard in fact or word…except
By fools and idiots…and you!
poem by David Whalen
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Pink Skies Tonight, Shepards Delight
Pink skies tonight
is a shepard's delight
to me its a heart filling sight
swirling colours crack out through sun's light
suffocating clouds coil into a rainbow swirl
brilliant shades of gold turn silver to the world
as stars take their righful places in the sky
a dreamy sight to anyone's eyes
pinker planes turn darker still
with the clouds drinking in their fill
the skies grow darker untill
pink skies vanished, stars to replace
clouds turned invisible, wished away in haste
it had all began and faded far too soon
to replaced with the darkness of a circle
surrounding the moon
poem by Rachel BaByBeAr Anderson
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Anticipation
I sleep in the morn.
I do not wish to rise.
I hear the rain
and I know the skies
are crying big raindrops
and the clouds are gray.
The approaching hours
will begin my day.
Oh how I need to see the sun
come out from the clouds
to burn my skin
and heat up this frame of mind I'm in.
I can't stay put in this tiresome bed.
Too many thoughts will destroy my head.
All I need is one word from you,
then the rain and clouds could not get through.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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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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Sounds
What are the sounds we love to hear,
the sounds that bring us joy?
They are all the sounds we've listened to,
sounds that don't destroy
how you feel or how you react
when they reach your ear.
They touch a certain part of you
that sometimes brings a tear
of joy.
A child's laughter so innocent and pure,
a rolling wave down at the shore,
a sound of comfort from a spoken word,
a sound of wind chimes in the air,
a sound of silence while in prayer,
a sound of white noise when you sleep,
a sound of joyful tears you weep.
These sounds and many, many more
can change a person's mood.
They soothe your body and your mind
so nothing can intrude
upon your joy.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Dawning of God’s Light
As morning breaks a new dawn, the sun above shines upon,
The darker face of the earth, as a new day The Lord will birth.
Now hidden is that lesser light, so evident in the darker night,
Staging another day at hand, to be God’s witness in our land.
Every day is much the same, as we lift up our Savior’s Name,
In praises throughout our day, and talking to Him, as we pray.
It’s not just another day for us, but another day for all to trust,
In God our Savior, Jesus Christ, with every aspect of their life.
It’s in the day, not the night, that God provides for us the light,
To do all that we need to do, as God provides for me and you.
It’s the night when many fall, not worried about God’s will at all,
Men catering to their own needs, and some even darker deeds.
Even those who live not right, can be influenced by God’s light,
This as we live our lives for Him, in a dark world plagued by sin.
Our witness is for all those near, though in God, they don’t fear,
For from the light we impart, God can change the darkest heart.
So when the day turns into night, we can still shine God’s Light,
While even in the darkest place, shining on all His saving Grace,
This to be a witness to all men, so that some will be born again,
Born of God, like you and me, to dwell in God’s Light Eternally.
(Copyright ©01/2009)
As the Edge of the Moon
I have stained my soul with scarlet colors, thus this work
The ballad of merlot and mandolins, the bliss is midnight blue
The deep black is but her hungry delight
Thus I dye her desires a darker scarlet within the foils of my flesh
As the edge of the moon watched over our swallowing dance
Evening had long settled into the wit of the light and slow rain
Distinct in the thought of our lust consuming the blackberry wine
As the bottle overflowed throughout the frolic of our ecstasy
Her heart is but scarlet colored, her kisses are like tight fisted flowers
Her gentle hands in the threshold and the deep suite waters
The sharp love that blots my soul somewhat like her devilish shadow
Thereafter, my emotions are stained with her sweet scarlet
The bare bedroom in the pulp and the deep black music
As I come to bed where she lays sweet and in favor
I have stained my soul with her scarlet color, thus this work
Evening having settled into the song as the edge of the moon
poem by Jason PraTT
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