Posts Tagged ‘sound’

I listen to music with the lights off.

It’s like being asleep,

like lucid dreaming–

aware of the sounds,

but only the sounds, the notes.

I close my eyes

and the music fills me up.

My ears are what hear it;

my heart is what feels it, and pumps

the feeling that is more than just one feeling

throughout my body

and my head is empty,

devoid of probing thoughts,

but quickly filled

with music

and feeling.

Here’s a plank to think.

A response to an oral: an assembly.

Assemble quickly,

silently, or not so.

Better to think than preach, so they say.

So they say there’s a way. Even in.

An even you don’t. You catch.

An assault of lights.

A wink. A thousand brights. Yellow globes of strobe.

Yellow burning white.

Little planets.

Comets. Of whirring and flash

there is no worry.

And so to stick to mind.

And so stick a tongue, so stick a lip;

there are worse, and there are white lights.

And there are purses, there are people.

Where there are purses, there are people.

Mind not the blinding, the light

from up.

Think aloud.

“So they say.”

You say.

And there’s applause.

Bird calls

Morning drum of sun

Bell of the telephone

Sirens for an emergency

Bubbles of thunder that burst

Camera flash of lightning

Flood of wind

The tree that grew at an angle

became one with the house

An assemblage of clouds observes.

Listen. There’s applause

just for you!

A blessing from silver skies

says, “you’re appreciated.”

Let the many small hands

strike the walls and window-glass.

It’s all for you!

The clouds praise with rain,

their way of saying,

“you’re wonderful.”

Disoriented,

drowsy, I hear

the rattle of a plastic bag,

the creak of a door,

the shuffling of shoes on carpet.

Each sound amplified

by my lack of concentration.

Each sound pulls me

into a life that is not mine,

only for the other

to wake me from the daydream,

and set me back into my chair

in front of a laptop

which I stare at blankly.

I had glimpsed the Bird

that flew past my Window,

and heard an infrequent Chirp.

I never suspected, until now,

that bird was Progress-

and I had let it pass.

A Voice is the thing to use-

without Pen at hand.

A Voice will raise the Truth,

a Pen will make It grand.