6-25-09**What Soughs Through Me
If you admitted hearing voices
In ancient times they would have calledl you
A shaman a prophet a seer or
Maybe even Moses
In Salem you would have been called
A witch a warlock or
One possessed needing to be
Put to death
Part of the art
Of being a poet
Is to listen to the voices
As they sough through you
The sounds are gentle reminders
To pay attention to a color
A smell a word a sight
Then to remember it in words
As a poet I claim
The words I write are mine
But in truth I have heard them
As they rustled through me
It's like hearing the nouises the wind makes
It's not the wind we hear
It's what the wind blows through
And against
poem by Tom J. Mariani
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Voices
Words and music by rick nielsen
You didnt know what you were looking for
till you heard the voices in your ear.
Hey, its me again.
Plain, you see again.
Please, can I see you evry day?
Im a fool again.
I fell in love with you again.
Please, can I see you evry day?
You didnt know what you were looking for
till you heard the voices in your ear.
You didnt know what you were looking for
till you heard the voices in your ear.
Words dont come out right.
I tried to say it, oh, so right.
I hope you understand my meaning.
Hey, its me again.
Im so in love with you again.
Please, can I see you evry day?
You didnt know what you were looking for
till you heard the voices in your ear.
You didnt know what you were looking for
till you heard the voices in your ear.
I remember evry word you said. (word you said.)
I remember voices in my head. (in my head.)
I remember evry word you said. (word you said.)
Your voices. (I)
Cool voices. (hear)
Warm voices. (your)
It was just what I needed to. (voice.)
Cool voices. (words)
Warm voices. (dont)
Your voices. (seem)
But its just what I needed for. (right.)
Warm voices. (love)
Your voices. (is)
Cool voices. (the)
It was just what I needed to. (word.)
Your voices. (I)
Cool voices. (hear)
Warm voices. (your)
It was just what I needed to. (voice.)
Just what I needed to, just what I needed to,
Just what I needed.
You didnt know what you were looking for
till you heard the voices in your ear.
You didnt know what you were looking for
till you heard the voices in your ear.
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Wind From... Elsewhere
The wind blows here... the wind blows there
The wind seems to blow from... everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair...
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! Can you see its graceful fingers... playing in your hair?
Nay! You cannot see the wind... e'en though you know it's there.
It's flitting... it's flirting... it's prancing everywhere
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE! It blows unexpectedly... with a gentle breeze... it blows...
The Great Hand of Miracles... brings it... then it goes
To greet the early morning sun... to dance to and fro
From the highest, loftiest mountain heights... to valleys... far below. 'Who is He that sitteth upon the circle of the earth...
Who gathereth the winds in his fists—Who maketh a wind to pass over...
Thou hearest the sound thereof...
But canst not tell whence it cometh... and wither it goeth.' The wind blows here... the wind blows there...
The wind seems to blow... from everywhere.
But the wind I love... when it blows... blows fair—
This wind... when it blows... blows from... ELSEWHERE!
poem by Elga Haymon White
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The Only Voices I hear Are On The Inside
I was born not being able to hear
Born not hearing my mother tell me I'm dear
Born never listening to anyone who spoke to me
Born not enjoying music
Born without the ability to gauge sound, unable to hear the clock tick
But since the day I was born
Since before I could talk, I could scorn
There was one thing I always did hate
And that was the thing deepest inside of me,
The thing for which I cursed fate
Worse than deafness or being unable to see
Since the day I was born I heard voices
Not when loved ones talked, but voices that weren't my choice
To hear, voices that were inside my head
Voices that nobody else heard, but I didn't know if they were lying
Because my hearing has always been dead
I'd hear screeching or dying
When none was there
Those voices they'd tell me what to do and how could I deny them?
They were, they are, and they will be the only ones who care
Because they're the only one that speak to me, I can't find the sin
That I committed to be born like this, to be born broken
I've heard more conversations than any other man
And yet I've never heard man utter a word, through my whole lifespan
The only voices I hear are on the inside
And it's the greatest torment that I hide
They'll just tell me I'm crazy, well in writing
But these voices, they accept me, they sing
These voices they know because they've talked to me
These voices are the only I've ever known the
The first voices I've ever heard
Like a mother, I've never listened to a singing bird
But I've listened to a cacophonous symphony of arguing inside my head
These voices are like the woman I did not choose, but wed
I can't separate myself from them
The only time I hear anything, it's torment to condemn
Me, it's funny that I could never speak to anyone but myself
But I guess I've never, ever, been lonely... not ever.
I
Have
Never
Been
Alone
W ho could save me from myselves?
poem by David Knox
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Liquid Sky
I aint no romeo. Im just the man for you.
Holding out as secrets travel, they kind of get to you.
Everybody says that it couldve been something.
Never was a smart kid, never knew a good thing.
Always hearing voices swim ... in your liquid sky.
Liquid sky ... always hearing voices, like no more choices in disguise.
I aint no sacred idol or a saint pretending.
Ill build you up. Ill tear you down. turn you wrong side in.
What am I afraid of? everyones listening.
Standing on my soapbox, lost the beginning.
Always hearing voices ... swim ... in your liquid sky.
Liquid sky ... Im always hearing voices, like no more choices, like a lie.
Its just, its just liquid sky.
Im always hearing voices like electric shock waves in disguise.
I dont know what this means. Ill leave it for your interpretation. its just me at the edge ...
Everybody says that it could have been something.
Never was a smart kid, never knew a good thing.
Always hearing voices ... swim in your liquid sky.
Liquid sky ... Im always hearing voices, like no more choices, like a lie.
Its just, its just liquid sky. Im always hearing voices like electric shock waves in disguise.
Always hearing voices swim ...
song performed by by Queensryche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Face The Wind
Face the wind
Feel the pressure
It blows me away
It rushes past to God knows where
When I turn my self to stand in its path
Feel it Almost like
Radiant fingers Invigorating
Strokes energy through my flowing hair
Filling with joy my heart
Soul overflows with passion I feel
I hear nothing but the wind
It is everything in my ears
And when I finally speak
Words leave my mouth
And all leave presence
As wind captures them and
Steals them from the listening
To hoard them in its vast secret place
Far away beyond most imagination
Feel the wind
Speak into it your secrets
Taste, Smell its messages
Hear voices it carries
From animals and trees and
Storms and lovers
See it, watch its patterns
Where it comes from and goes to
Look at its journey, its traveling
But can’t
You can’t see it
But you can feel it
Somewhere it is deep
And its colours would be beautiful
Face the wind
Full-force you feel it and
It blows you away
Feel its soothing power
Breathe in life
Feel
Face the wind.
poem by Zoe MacRae
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Voices Cryin Out
Voices cryin out, voices cryin out
Voices cryin out in the night hear them call
Voices cryin out hear them call
Its a night
Like no other night
Its a day
Almost turning grey
Its a heart
Like a broken heart
Its a wheel
At the end of day
Its the plight
Of a boy whos scared
Of the waves rushing out
And the wind in the air
Its the sight
Of one longing to taste
Of life
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore
Visions that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out hear them call
Its a song
Of a love unsung
Its the pain
Of just being young
Its a cry
Of a voice unheard
Of a face
Speaking silent words
Its the hope
That the time goes by
Take you upon a wing
Teach your soul to fly
Its a wish
That youll live your experience life
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore
Vision that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out hear them call
Oh do you know how it feels to be free
Walking your path of life
Embracing destiny one day at a time
Voices cryin out...oh cant you hear them
Voices cryin out...listen please, listen to the future
Voices cryin out...millions and millions and millions of voices
Voices cryin out...oh oh oh oh
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore
Vision that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices crying out hear them call
Voices crying out in the night hear them call
Voices from some foreign shore
Vision that seem an incredible dream
Echoing for more
Voices cryin out
Voices cryin out
Voices cryin out...
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Writer
Night Writer
Why not write now
No time can be righter
No one to tell you how
To live your life
Or design for you your lies
Does it suffice to have a wife
To tell you when it satisfies?
You've written before
Little at night, more by day
At night write more
You'll discover a way
To make stars into a sun
That will shine for you as gold
But gold is as good as gone
When you get to be this old
Poem writer
Up and write about modesty
It's what everyone talks about
That's you and your honesty
Who cares if the others doubt?
You came in time
But does time know who you are?
You have a claim on rhyme
But rhythm takes the measure by far
Into a new realm
Of words on words on words
They just overwhelm
Can't you hear what they've heard?
Maybe hearing loss
Is not the loss of hearing
Maybe it's that distant toss
When you hear the echo before the feeling
Now you're here and now
Now is the time's to write
Now's the time to fulfill every vow
Now's not the time to lose sight
Of what you might lose
If you don't write every night.
poem by Ragy Sandid
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Voices Of The Wind
Wind chimes and tree leaves
Voices of the wind
Bulrushes, birdwings
Rattling roofs of tin
Howling zephyrs, soughing breezes
Atlantic gales, explosive sneezes…
All voices of the wind….
Rattle of windows, Bang of shutters,
Whisper of curtains, puff of summer gusts
Snapping of canvas from towering mastheads
Squeal of windmills as they adjust
Whispered messages from pinions of birds
Flapping of laundered linens
Soft velvety sighs of lover’s words
All voices in languages… of the winds
Childs’ anticipation, breath held deep within
Each inhalation, every exhalation….
Are all voices of the wind
poem by David Whalen
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A Poet To Be
A poet I claim not to be,
For words are never there.
In all the years I've tried to write,
I have no words to share.
I sit and think but nothing comes,
No inspiration here.
I want to write of anything,
But still no words I fear.
I read the works of other poets,
I wish I were like them.
How do they write such beautiful lines,
A poet, I'm not him.
I try to write from the heart,
From deep within my soul.
I try to write of the love I have,
But cannot reach my goal.
But why I ask, why can't I write,
Of love so pure and true.
Why can't I write about her eyes,
A mix of green and blue.
I want to write about her smile,
It brightens up my day.
I try to think of anything,
But words I cannot say.
I wish I knew how to write,
A poem with such bliss.
I wish I knew how to describe,
Her soft but tender kiss.
I cannot even begin to write,
How she holds me tight.
How her arms around me,
Makes everything just right.
A poet does not have to think,
The words flow right out.
When I sit and try to write,
I want to scream and shout.
I mean come on, how hard can it be,
To write about her hair.
Such long beautiful natural blonde,
That flows in the air.
I try to write about her laugh,
The words will not fly.
Time passes and finally,
I say it's soft and high.
It's been an hour and a half,
I'm here on verse twelve.
I had to go to Rhymezone,
To find out the rhyme is shelve.
A poet does not do that,
Go online to find a rhyme.
A poet has it in his head,
And can write at any time.
But a poet I am not,
For I cannot write of love.
How the girl I am with,
Is an angel from up above.
How I love her with all my heart,
And want to spend my life with her.
How her love for me is more,
Than I can ever be for sure.
As I draw near the end,
My mind is not so numb.
I realize I've just written of love,
A poet I have become.
poem by Adam McKim
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What Makes Me Crazy? -Lila's Story
They found me one day
wandering the wilderness,
hearing voices.
They found me one day
saying 'I hear voices
as clearly as you hear my voice
in this room
yet no one else hears
so that makes me crazy?
The voices denigrate me.
They deny me
and what I want is for them to go away.
Yet, when they speak
they mock me
saying
'they can't hear us because we are blocking them'
and they think you are crazy- this is what makes
us strong
and you weak.'
I hear these voices
and have to drown them out
so I don't hear.
So I don't hear
So I can sleep.
What I need is someone
who believes me:
they know if someone does
their power
is gone.
Does that make me crazy?
I don't think so..
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Sonnet: The Wind
What shakes the trees so violently? ’Tis Wind;
What moves the clouds hither/ thither? ’Tis Wind;
What takes the tornado around? ’Tis Wind;
What brings the sandstorm on the earth? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the cool and gentle breeze? ’Tis Wind
What makes the boughs and leaves to dance? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the autumn leaves to fall? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the honey-bees to fly? ’Tis Wind.
What makes pollen reach in showers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the dust to climb towers? ’Tis Wind;
What spreads the perfume of flowers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the rain-clouds advance far? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the Wind to blow? ’Tis God;
What makes a Tempest stop? ’ Tis our Lord.
7-18-2001
poem by John Celes
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Voices Of The Children
how many times will we turn to the wind
and hear the voices of the children?
how many bodies, how many graves,
before we forgive and are forgiven?
who makes the choice?
and who has the voice?
whose hand can stop the killing?
who defines liberty?
brings back community?
brings back the touch and the feeling?
and when will we know
they'll never be tomorrow
unless we live today?
will we find God in each other,
in our sisters and brothers,
in what we do and what we say?
how many times will we turn to the wind
and hear the voices of the children?
how many voices, how many graves?
before we forgive, and are forgiven!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Beyond The End
Beyond the end
By: jimmy buffett, marshall chapman, will jennings
1985
We are a long way from anything, I told him. up ahead turn left and
Were fifteen or twenty minutes from cancun. turn right and youve
Got a batch of sixty miles of nothing. so who are we seeing,
Where is he and how do we get in touch.
- travis mcgee from the lonely silver rain
Mayan moon was burnin
We saw visions
Of the past returnin
On the shore
The band was playin
We all heard
What the moon was sayin
The world keeps closin in
It has before
It will again
A voice beyond the wind
Says we must go
Beyond the end
So follow
Beyond the end
A sea of friends are singin
Vaya con dios [go with god]
Mis amigos [my friends]
We take their hopes and feelins
To some new world
Well be revealin
Old worlds keep closin in
They have before
They will again
Voices call
Beyond the wind
Say we must go
Beyond the end
And follow
Beyond the end
(guitar break)
Old worlds keep closin in
They have before
They will again
Voices call
Beyond the wind
Say we must go
Beyond the end
Old worlds (old worlds) keep closin in (keep closin in)
They have before (they have before)
They will again
Voices call (voices call)
Beyond the wind
Say we must go (say we must go)
Beyond the end (beyond the end)
And follow
Beyond the end
Old worlds (old worlds) keep closin in (keep closin in)
They have before
They will again (oh they will again)
Voices call (voices call)
Beyond the wind (beyond the wind)
Say we must go (say-eeee...)
Beyond the end
Old worlds (old worlds) keep closin in (keep closin in) (=roy orbison)
They have before (they have before)
They will again (they will again)
Voices call (voices call)
Beyond the wind (beyond the wind)
Say we must go (say we must go)
Beyond the end (beyond the end...)
Old worlds keep closin in (keep closin in)
They have before (they have before)
They will again (they will again)
Voices call (voices call)
Beyond the wind (beyond the wind)
Say we must go (say we must go)
Beyond the end ...
- notes:
Featuring josh leo on lead guitar and jonathan edwards and roy orbison who
Take us beyond the end
The ocean almanac singers are: timothy b. schmit, harry stinson, larry lee,
Sam clayton, wendy waldman, pam tillis, val & birdie.
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Words mean - what they do
We throw them to the winds;
like water from a shower;
what wind? what shower? and who throws them to whom?
In 1996, John Bargh, with scrupulous research,
found that, hearing words about the elderly –
even when flashed subliminally on the screen –
makes us walk more slowly…you kidding? No…
and in 1998, Dijksterhuis and Van Knippenberg
showed that if we hear words about ‘professors’
we’re smarter playing Trivial Pursuits;
while hearing words about sports hooligans
makes us dumber…
and this without referring to the images and sounds
of crime, guns, killing, and computer games…
ah well, we identify with those glamorous criminals
and then are shown that justice always prevails –
er, doesn’t it? …but what of those satisfying PC games
where, zap! we always gun them down…
oh, it’s all harmless play; like Shakespeare’s gods,
‘we kill them for our sport’…
words mean what they do;
science has warned us when all else has failed.
Good mortals all, be of fine heart, and hale…
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Wind Horse
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, gentle Wind horse, you were the last of your kind.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you were running wild and free.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, with this freedom you did nothing but give;
When one called for help you carried them to safety,
No enemy did you have.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave your life one day
To a boy with no leg.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you gave him your endless love.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you now run in the Great Hunting Grounds;
Giving joy to those there, as you did here.
Da naho… It is said,
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, your life was not the last gift
You gave the People.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, you prayed for us, you wished a wish for us.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we remember you through your brother Horse.
Wi: yo: h … It is good.
Wind Horse, Wind Horse, we see you still.
poem by Tolly Rebeka Christian BlackWolf Hawk
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Eternal Words
I want to write a poem
Maybe it will be forever on paper
But time makes it fragile
And flame could burn it
Or hands of the world tear it first
I want to carve a pledge
Maybe it will be long lasting on rocks
But water becomes erosive
And mosses cover it
Or hands of the world crush it down
I want to shout a plea
Maybe it will be heard in the sky
But wind blows it away
And stars don’t want to remember
Or voices of the world merciless laugh
I want to keep a word
Maybe it will be safe in the heart
But memories fade it
And emotion doesn’t understand anymore
Or voices of the world coldly taint
I want to say my thought
Try every way to make it eternal
But without someone takes a notice
Still won’t be understood
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Wind Words
WHILST THE WIND BLOWS
THOUGHT-LOSING WORDS BLEW ALONG
REFLECTING ON THEIR OWN MONOLOGUES
KNOWING MORE THAN THEY SAY
WOULD STAY SILENT
IF WORDS UNDERSTAND
WHAT THEIR CONTENTS IS
BUT WHO KNOWS WHAT WORDS KNOW
WOULD THEY SHARE
WHAT WORDS UNDERSTAND
WHISPERING THEIR KNOWLEDGE
THOUGHT-LOSING AND SILENT
TO THE WIND
OH, WIND - WHAT WOULD HAPPEN
WHEN YOU KNOW
WHAT WORDS UNDERSTAND
ALL THEIR MEANINGS
SPOKEN INTO YOU
AND BEEN HEARD
READY FOR A NEW VOICE
PUTTING THOUGHTS SOFTLY
BETWEEN YOUR LETTERS
OH, LOVELY WIND
WOULD YOU CARRY YOUR WISDOM
ABOUT SPOKEN WORDS CONFIDENTIAL
TO THE WAITING ONES
AND GIVE BACK ALL YOUR KNOWLEDGE
TO SENDERS IN RETURN
WHAT WOULD THE WORLD KNOW
WHEN WINDS SHARE THEIR WISDOM
WHILST THE WIND BLOWS
(C) All Rights Reserved
Floy Dy Ra,29/09/2012
poem by Floyd Floydson
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Voices Inherit The Wind
The lingering shadows of those
who are gone from our grasp
bring comfort to those
who had to say behind.
Their voices inherit the wind
on cold and lonely nights.
Their voices can be heard
telling us everything is all right
when the shadows of loneliness
fall across our sight.
Our weeping call to come back
is answered in the wind
and the shaking branches
touched by a breeze.
Candles were lit to show us the way
when the clouds of darkness surround
and the voices inheriting the wind compound.
We walk with eyes blinded
into an eternal light
to be consumed within.
No one knows our boundaries
when angels take flight
and we only go when we are ready
to face the eternal night.
Those we left have no fear
we maybe gone, but we are still here.
Our voices inherit the wind on dark blustery nights.
We are those fleeting shadows
you catch from the corner of your eye.
We seek not to alarm you,
just to guide you along,
we are your past nudging you
into the future where you belong.
28 March 2010
poem by David Harris
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The Winds Of Wyoming
Have you ever heard the wind
blowing across the plains?
Moving and stacking snow
in drifts across the lane
Have you heard the wind howling
like a wolf baying at the moon?
It's an eerie and unnerving feeling
making up its melodious tune
Have you ever watched the trees
bending to and fro in the wind?
Leaves blow off and scatter around
it's mother nature who has sinned
Have you heard the windows rattle
as the wind blows through the cracks?
The draft blows under each of the doors
it's coming in from the back
The wind is part of our landscape
and it's with us most everyday
But we love Wyoming wind that's true
it's ours and we're here to stay
poem by Louise Davis
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Who says I'm a poet
Yes I write lines
And rhyme rhymes
I write puns
Simile alliteration
And all figures of speech
But who says I’m a poet
In some cases I write and scratch
Sometimes I think crack
Voice out loud dah
Making speeches like damn
Combining words
Building sentences
But who says I’m a poet
I maybe great and brave
Embracing grave
Like person reading a Braille
Showing how strong I dare
But still at night I stare
Thinking who says I’m a poet
I may speak with sticks
Throwing ink turned into voices
Beat with lips
To defend my choices
That might be pointless, thoughtless
Maybe fair-less
Because no one says I’m a poet
They say;
Self recommendation has no justification
Practice makes perfect
But I say;
If you can’t recommend yourself who will
Why practise if no one is perfect
Because I’M A POET I say
poem by Zama Ashley Helebe
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