Echoes!
The gossip echoes through the hall with no curtain,
Where the essential furniture are not kept for comfort,
In empty space the silent sound echoes a lot, scary a bit,
The more you whisper the wrong; it echoes the wrong, not the right.
When the knowledge furnishings are done,
When the curtains are hung with decorative tie back,
Foundations of carpets are laid on the floor,
The hall gets humbled, what we speak, can be heard clear.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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Right Track Wrong Train
The train was leaving at 10 after 10
I got to the station just in time to check in
Ive been bumpin my bags all around
Im trying hard to never knock people down
But I can see I left a few on the ground
And as the train pulls away I can hear the conductor say
Right track wrong train (echoes)
Right track wrong train (echoes)
Im not to blame (echo)
Right track wrong train... train
I read my schedule but my train wasnt there
I re-read my ticket, it said going nowhere
Everybody had the same tatooed face
All the women and men dressed in lace
I think I gotta get out of this place
I shouldve got off before the engineer locked the door
Right track wrong train (echoes)
Right track wrong train (echoes)
Im not to blame (echo)
Right track wrong train, train train train hey !
Hey thats a neat tatoo youre wearing. by the way whered you get it ?
Uh huh. say, is this an express train ? uh huh.
Snack bar ? uh huh. uh huh.
Something is happening so familiar to me
Is this the outer limits like on tv ?
Another empty town fading to gray
Another coca-cola sign on the way
Have a cup of coffee, have a nice day
And as the train pushes on,
Were headed for babylon
Oh no...
Right track wrong train (echoes)
Right track wrong train (echoes)
Right track wrong train...
On the wrong train on the right track
We dont know if shell ever come back
(talking) what train is this ?
Something is happening so familiar to me
Is this the outer limits like on tv ?
Have a cup of coffee, have a nice day (talking)
Yeah, yeah Ill be right there yeah. Im gonna get the next train yeah.
song performed by by Cyndi Lauper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Echoes of silence
A silent scream
A bad dream..
nightmare
Wake me up
Some one dare
Spare me.. spare!
Everytime i remember
that touch that smell
The day i experienced hell
my cross to bear
All my life
My death knell
My tortured sigh
someone hear in silence
my helplessness
As i laid that night
Silence echoes my fight
my plight!
Silence echoes
Scot free, he walks away
echoes till this day
Silence echoes
My lost innocence
At nights in dreams..
Night, witness to my pain
Driving me insane
within my heart...
Silence echoes,
My silent scream
my broken dreams..
Silence echoes....
poem by Meena Iyer
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Echoes Of Love
Patrick simmons / willie mitchell / earl randle
I hear your voice everywhere
Its echoes of love
Making me look back over my shoulder
Echoes of love are started all over
Echoes of love
Keeps on haunting
Im out of control
Keeps on burning
Echoes of love are out of control
Bringing back love I used to hold
Darlin, since you went away
Think about you every day
So many memories
Got to get the best of me
Recalling the times
I used to hold you
I just wouldnt do
What I was supposed to
Ive done things
Id like to undo
Now darlin its you
Id like to run to
Echoes of love
Keeps on haunting
Im out of control
Keeps on burning
Echoes of love are out of control
Bringing back love I used to hold
Echoes of love
Echoes of love
Love, echoes of love
Keeps on haunting
Echoes of love, echoes of love
Keeps on burning
Echoes of love
song performed by by Doobie Brothers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Echoes Of Love
(words & music by roberts - bachelor)
Though you are gone, I still wear your ring
Theyre playing the song we used to sing
Echoes of love, echoes of love
Are coming to me out of the past
The letters you wrote I treasure them so
And I hear your voice wherever I go
Echoes of love, echoes of love
Are coming to me out of the past
In the rustle of a breeze; in the patter of the rain
In the rushing of the seas, all I hear is your name
Come back my love and once you are near
Darling I know no more will I hear
Echoes of love, echoes of love
cause youll be with me right in my heart
Echoes of love, echoes of love
cause youll be with me right in my heart
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Future Wash
I quivering quiet voice
crawling through your mind
I quilt quiet voice
crawling creeping midnight mind.
Crawling treacle trash empty
intermittent spaces reeking rime
unease as frost front echoes
empty bubbling boiling brine.
Turbulent night echoes echoes
echoes answer echo endless.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Scattered echoes
To my wonderfull family.
I so very sorry.
Yes I finaly done it.
I took my own life.
But my life was taken long ago.
I heard scattered echoes in the wind.
They told me to go back home.
I listened to the scattered echoes of the wind.
Becuase I'd had enough of pointless pain.
Yes you'll be angry.
I know you'll be sad.
I guess you'll grieve for a while
But soon you will see this was meant to be.
Things have worked out for the best.
In the scattered echoes of the wind.
If you listen carefully you'll hear my cries.
My cries to you on earth below.
I'm sorry
My echoes in the scattered wind are crying to you.
I'm sorry really I am.
Go get on with your life.
Live for each other.
Live your dream.
The scattered echoes of the wind shout out to you.
Now the time has come let her go.
Move on with your life.
She wouldnt want you to live this way
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Laughter echoes
Laughter echoes
Giggles, chuckles, snigger's
He's in hysterics
Laughter echoes
Blood trickles
Oozing, seeping, gushing
His beautiful broken skull
Laughter echoes
Cold voice whispers
Mutters, murmurs, mumbles
He won't stop laughing
Laughter echoes
poem by Fedora Wearing Biggins
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Silent
I hear no voices inside my head.
I hear no echoes in the wind.
Everything is silent.
I now know how the deaf must feel.
A world with no sound.
Words that don't speak.
Silent.
Well I guess it's wrong of me
to compare my writer's block
to the deaf, but that how I
feel.
Lost, and frustrated.
Seeing lips move but unable hear the words.
I'm a poet who wants to speak but no sound
do I hear.
Silent!
Love Echoes
Love echoes
Through the halls of death
To stand alone and catch its breath.
And blaze anew.
Someone's waiting
As the earth's rotating
In another life
To welcome you.
Love echoes
When a heartbeat is stilled.
Will her word that so thrilled
Ring silent bells.
Trapped in this rhyme
Will there still be time
For our lips to touch
As ebb tide swells.
Love echoes
And that mute lonely scream
To starless night
Hails a new moonbeam
Into the light.
Love echoes
Kissing rainbows with bitter tears
Pining through sunsets and fruitless years.
I only ask
That you believe
In our tapestry that love did weave.
We'll fly our dream
With coloured kite.
Escape the theme of black and white.
Our songbird now
Rises and soars.
Love always echoes
From behind closed doors.
poem by Kevin East
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Most people read poetry listening for echoes because the echoes are familiar to them. They wade through it the way a boy wades through water, feeling with his toes for the bottom: The echoes are the bottom.
quote by Wallace Stevens
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forgiving The Unforgivable.
I held my peace and sung a song,
that echoed through the righteous hall,
my right, my truth, all put to wrong!
As judgment fine had met the pall.
How can there be a better way,
to tell the world of foul play,
than those, your words, that captivate,
and that, my looks, you separate;
your lies, your tricks, my punishment!
In years to come a sure lament;
but life shall only last its days,
until the sun these men does gaze;
then deeds shall bind our spirits such,
would implore it the heaven's touch,
so again shall meet face to face,
when shattered is the time and space,
there I shall pardon and forgive,
as not in this dimension live,
and from this burden be relieved,
that had a trusting friend deceived,
and yes, I have just this to say,
that friends and foes alike decay,
but on that day, you I shall see,
as an error of mortality.
I hold my peace and sing this song,
That echoes through the righteous hall,
My right, my truth, all put to wrong!
as judgment fine has met the pall.
R.N.Khan, © 2012
poem by Raja Nosherwan
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Blow, Bugle, Blow
THE splendour falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O sweet and far from cliff and scar
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.
O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow for ever and for ever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Splendor Falls
The splendor falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes dying, dying, dying.
O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O sweet and far from cliff and scar
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes dying, dying, dying.
O love they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field, or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow forever and forever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Through The Veil for Dave Walker
there's a light
in the window
of the house
forgotten by time;
a book on the table,
unopened.
footprints on the floor
covered with dust.
a cup in the sink
half-empty.
the wind blows
curtains grey with time....
whispering, whispering....
names that cannot
be heard.
voices, echoes,
creaking the floor.
a book of photographs
on the closet floor.
walking through the mist,
the fog and the shadows,
touching small particles
of being left like gifts....
lives unwrapped into mine!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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After the Hunt
Underneath the windy mountain walls
Forth we rode, an eager band,
By the surges and the verges and the gorges,
Till the night was on the land—
On the hazy, mazy land!
Far away the bounding prey
Leapt across the ruts and logs,
But we galloped, galloped, galloped on,
Till we heard the yapping of the dogs—
The yapping and the yelping of the dogs.
Oh, it was a madly merry day
We shall not so soon forget,
And the edges and the ledges and the ridges
Haunt us with their echoes yet—
Echoes, echoes, echoes yet!
While the moon is on the hill
Gleaming through the streaming fogs,
Don’t you hear the yapping of the dogs—
The yapping and the yelping of the dogs?
poem by Henry Kendall
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To Faneuil Hall
MEN! if manhood still ye claim,
If the Northern pulse can thrill,
Roused by wrong or stung by shame,
Freely, strongly still;
Let the sounds of traffic die:
Shut the mill-gate, leave the stall,
Fling the axe and hammer by;
Throng to Faneuil Hall!
Wrongs which freemen never brooked,
Dangers grim and fierce as they,
Which, like couching lions, looked
On your fathers' way;
These your instant zeal demand,
Shaking with their earthquake-call
Every rood of Pilgrim land,
Ho, to Faneuil Hall!
From your capes and sandy bars,
From your mountain-ridges cold,
Through whose pines the westering stars
Stoop their crowns of gold;
Come, and with your footsteps wake
Echoes from that holy wall;
Once again, for Freedom's sake,
Rock your fathers' hall!
Up, and tread beneath your feet
Every cord by party spun:
Let your hearts together beat
As the heart of one.
Banks and tarrifs, stocks and trade,
Let them rise or let them fall:
Freedom asks your common aid, —
Up, to Faneuil Hall!
Up, and let each voice that speaks
Ring from thence to Southern plains,
Sharply as the blow which breaks
Prison-bolts and chains!
Speak as well becomes the free:
Dreaded more than steel or ball,
Shall your calmest utterance be,
Heard from Faneuil Hall!
Have they wronged us? Let us then
Render back nor threats nor prayers;
Have they chained our free-born men?
Let us unchain theirs!
Up, your banner leads the van,
Blazoned, 'Liberty for all!'
Finish what your sires began!
Up, to Faneuil Hall!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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An Echoing Truth
In a world of right and wrong, we have Truth, that echoes strong,
And from the world’s ancient past, God’s Truth shall forever last,
To be for men a guide and light, for discerning wrong from right;
God’s Guiding Truth for every need, when souls choose to heed.
God’s Word echoes loud and clear, as men of true wisdom fear,
God who reigns above the earth, who gives The Word true worth,
God, Who spoke this world in place, opens hearts by His Grace,
And with that Grace He will impart, Eternal Truth into man’s heart.
A Book, that many seldom read, has the Truth that all men need,
While others never even heard, the Eternal Truths in God’s Word;
Eternal Truths that man can trust, which were written for all of us,
Truth revealed to all the world, which all believers need to herald.
This truth’s more than knowledge of, The One who reigns above,
But what He had did for everyone, sending Christ, His Only Son,
His Truth, revealed to every nation, leads a soul to His Salvation,
When they come to Jesus Christ, that soul, receives Eternal Life.
Open The Word and you will see, Truth about our present reality,
And you will see through history, others pointing men to eternity,
How Godly men of old would tell, others about Heaven and Hell,
Knowing all are just one breath, away from Eternal Life or Death.
(Copyright ©06/2010)
Echoes in the Night
Echoes in the lonely night
leave me in the morn.
For then the noisy hours
once again are born.
And all the voices that I hear
I wish would go away.
So the echoes that still me
would also fill my day.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Echoes of Sadness
Outside is a grave yard of leaves,
the trees are skeletal and bare.
My heart is overflowing with sorrow
since you left without a care.
I live in a distressed house of memories,
which once echoed with love throughout,
but now it’s filled with echoes of sadness
and like my happiness it’s moved out.
The rooms have a thick carpet of misery
and the furnishings wreak with despair.
The curtains are depressed and shaded
and unhappiness festers in there.
poem by Orlando Belo
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The house that died
An Empty house
An era bygone
Fragrant shadows
Echoes mourn
Smiles and tears
Joyous... morbid
Swift emotions
Of hues myriad
They say we bury
Our emotions alive
And forget in a hurry
But they live and thrive
This house... it lives
Through Echoes and smells
Stored memories behind its walls
Mystic house... story unfurls
A memory for every one who lived
Every single sigh they heaved
A voice whispers to tell the tale
Every memory has a smell
A ball room...under keys and lock
Wooden floor
Smells of rose and holy hock
Symphony rings
True to the core
Dining room
With its sounds
Clatter of spoons
“Cheers”...doing rounds
Nursery room
Giggling smiles
Whispering winds
On broken tiles
A chimney stands
Gathering soot
Smell of fire
Burning wood
And the kitchen
The lover’s nook
For the butler and the cook
Echoes of ladle
Hitting the pan
Boiling pot
And smoking can
A bed room smells of
Shadow and light
Echoes of love talks
Of the passionate lusty nights
The house that died
To live once more
Through smell’s portal and echoes door
Is calling out to you!
poem by Saurabh Som
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