Hannah Mary
Hannah Mary
Jun 20, 2014

you hear the waves of the ocean, right?
That sound is water smashing water.

You hear the clapping of hands, right?
That sound is hands slapping together.

You hear the cries of a girl, right?
That is the sound of her heart being shattered by her virtues.

You can hear various sounds
If you just ponder
About your universe.

Not my best but I like the idea of all the different noises created in the world
#poetry   #sounds  
Some Person
Some Person
Jan 15, 2015

A sound is comprised of a range of frequencies forming a wave
I ride just ahead of the crest of that wave
As your music carries me along

Alastur Berit
Alastur Berit
Nov 20, 2013

Her poems are like
sound waves
they can't help the shape they make
arcing, cresting, jagging scores into the sky then
into smaller crescendos and puddles
refusing to stay still
adamantly holding their shape then
suddenly relenting
into smaller
Then it HITS, her thoughts
They rip through the message finally clear
not even sure how my brain processes
these tiny wave forms not really sure
how these shapes make me feel
not sure how the words
can drift into my head
and make me feel

This is just an idea I had as I was leaving the house. Definitely needs more work.
Apr 3, 2013

music becomes mucus, leftover remnants
of bacterial infections that refuse to vacate
my brain no matter how many decongestants
i consume, those sound waves reverberate back
and forth and back and forth within my thick
ass skull and i am driven mad by memories

how to cut tender wires intricately woven into
the most simple mass of a mess you will ever see

i find myself muttering solutions in my sleep and
when i reach conclusions i'm already half awake
pen in hand, paper on chest, but ahh, it's gone, it's gone

my dream world holds more clarity than my walking
daze and i can only find the words for poetry, my
tongue and throat are revolting, refusing to take part
in walks down memory lane, fingers soon to follow suit

Krusty Aranda
Krusty Aranda
Jun 17, 2013

Baby, you and I are like sound waves
coming from opposite directions.
We modulate at the same frequency.
We both are building up our whole spectrum.
But, baby, when we meet...
When we meet we nullify a part of each other.
No matter how much we try,
if we don't change a bit of ourselves
we will never know the beautiful melodies we can create

Product of exam week as an aspiring sound technician. It's all I can think of right now.
Apr 4, 2014

There are moments.
I want to scream
Your name
Out loud
Not so everyone could
But so I could
Loud and clear
To let it surround me
To remind me of
Your eyes
Your smile
The awkward
The lovely
You are
All these things
To me
You are
Who you are
I would drown in
Your ocean
Just to breathe
Your air
To bask in
Your sunshine
I would scream
Your name
Out loud
So I might feel,
You could


For moments I wish you were near.

it's simple really, nostalgia is buried in a melody
the same way humans are put in coffins--
deliberately heart-wrenching, a science.
an old transistor radio climbs lazily in the background,
buzzing, humming but then hear it--
blank stares as the road carries on, gradually,
slow mascara rivulets kiss cheeks like the intimacy long forgotten only to come rushing back--
songs that we said were ours were never ours to have,
an old familiar lyric that we claimed to spell destiny,
auditory memories that taunt and torture:
the chorus only instigates barbed thorns to lonesome hearts,
major chords aren't happy,
but cause discordance--
clenched fists on the steering wheel, you must pullover--
you can't pause or rewind, you can't stop--
yes, change the channel--
but the music still plays, and the riffs hang in your head,
remembered and reminisced over static--
but nothing is white noise when the final notes linger on your auditory palette,
the taste like the stare of a cold gravestone...

but even colder still,
the empty seat next to you.

#hurt   #remember   #thought   #nostalgia   #song   #memory   #radio   #ours  
Brandy C Zoch
Brandy C Zoch
Jun 20, 2016

I dragged the heavy barrel across my throat.  Cold metal scraped the anger from my flesh, leaving delicate raised hairs on my pale, freckled skin. Paused for a moment to consider but decided against it and brushed my cheek tenderly with the slide.  My eyelids fluttered slowly and a pleasure stirred between my fatty thighs.

The last time.  I sighed in serenity and surrendered myself to my ego for the last time.  I briefly let myself believe that what I was going to do, meant something.  Though, a little deeper inside I knew the truth.  I knew it wasn’t going to mean shit.  

The muzzle now rested on my lips.  My tongue slipped between them and played a muscle memory of lust.  I wanted it like I had wanted nothing before… because I had wanted nothing before.  This world offered nothing.  


The last thing I heard was a single breath, one slow inhalation.

Sept. 26, 2013
#suicide   #gun   #depression   #depressed   #guns   #fat  
chryselle g
chryselle g
Sep 6, 2013

did you know sound waves
travel faster in warm air?

that night we stayed up,
the temperature was up there.

you must have heard my
heart straining against my ribs

because you leaned in and
silenced it with your lips

did you know sound waves
travel faster in warm air?

you must have.

thank god for physics.

To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment