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Thinking Out Loud
My poems are simply my thoughts stemming from poetic lies, along with the beautiful and sometimes ugly truth. "I am still so naive; I know ...
poems in the clouds
Instagram: @poemsintheclouds

Poems

loud
loud loud loud
loud loud loud loud loud
loud loud loud loud loud loud loud
loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud
loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud
loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud
loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud
loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud
loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud
loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud
loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud             can you even                                                                              
hear yourself                     loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud
over all this
loudness
in your mind
in your dreams?
is it guilt?
do you need space?
loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loud loudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudl­oudloudloudloudloudloud
loudloudloudloudloudloudloudoudloudloudlo­udloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloudloud
Elvie Libby  Jan 2015
Loud
Elvie Libby Jan 2015
We are engulfed by loud noise,
Perpetual loud noise,
The inconsiderate drone of day to day existence,
and equally as inconsiderate voices of the loud people,
in the loud streets,
with their loud lives,
and loud schedules,
concerned with their loud promises,
and loud deadlines,
who never stop to listen to the other voices in the loud streets,
with their loud cars,
and loud crossroads.
The loud world in which we live can be tuned out,
and it is because of these loud voices,
in the loud streets,
of this loud world that we are used to ignoring what noise there is.
I still wish for silence.
However,
Within this bottled loud noise is a thunder,
You,
You being the quiet person you always have been,
You are the loudest noise of all.
You rip into my skull and rattle my ear drums,
You tear needles through my nervous system,
and weave through every fibre I possess until my thread comes undone,
and I'm a loud, de-tangled, empty shell,
in a loud de-tangled full up world.
And before I know it, you're back again,
You and your loud, loud quiet,
and you melt me back together,
and I still wish for silence,
and you tangle your loudness within mine,
and we fill up the bottled noise of this loud world,
with it's loud streets,
and it's loud people,
with loud promises,
and loud deadlines,
and loud schedules,
with their loud lives,
with our inconsiderately loud quiet,
and finally-
It's silent.
This was awful, I know. But my head isn't doing good things at the moment, and I'm sorry if you felt this was a waste of 2 minutes