Music I heard with you was more than music,
And bread I broke with you was more than bread;
Now that I am without you, all is desolate;
All that was once so beautiful is dead.

Your hands once touched this table and this silver,
And I have seen your fingers hold this glass.
These things do not remember you, beloved,--
And yet your touch upon them will not pass.

For it was in my heart you moved among them,
And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes;
And in my heart they will remember always,--
They knew you once, O beautiful and wise.
Rockie Nov 2014
Party for One;
Yes that's right;
One, not two;
Not even three!
You heard me,
Party for One,
People are a ton
To handle
In groups
All claustrophobic
And bustling
And so,
This is it,
Party for One.
465

I heard a Fly buzz—when I died—
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air—
Between the Heaves of Storm—

The Eyes around—had wrung them dry—
And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset—when the King
Be witnessed—in the Room—

I willed my Keepsakes—Signed away
What portion of me be
Assignable—and then it was
There interposed a Fly—

With Blue—uncertain stumbling Buzz—
Between the light—and me—
And then the Windows failed—and then
I could not see to see—
J M Surgent Aug 2014
I didn't
tell you
to go.

You heard
that on
your own.
rk May 2015
lungs closing off
heart aching, bursting with flames
hearing whispers around me,
with words sharpened like knives
glancing around me,
eyes dancing with different gleams,
but won't be able to forget what's seen
swallowing letters inside of me,
was like adding a gas to the fire within me.
what we say, hear, say or not say is mostly our source of pain
Jon York Sep 2016
The tragedy of life is not death, but
what we let die inside of us while we
are here and know that people who
don't understand your silence will
never understand your words and
the only time you should look back
is to see how far you have come.

Sometimes it is okay if the only
thing you did today was breathe
and sometimes you want to just
disappear but in reality you just
want to be found because the
worst part about being strong is
that no one ever asks if you're okay.

Often in life we forget the things
we should remember and remember
the things we should forget and
sometimes we have problems in
our lives because of two reasons;
we act without thinking or we keep
thinking without acting and the
beauty of life does not depend on
how happy we are, but how happy
others can be because of you.

You can....end of story, so remember
to keep the ones who heard you when
you never said a word and what is
meant to be will always find a way
so be patient, the best things
happen unexpectedly.                                      
             ­                                               Jon York       2016
PoetryJournal May 2016
Our words are fated to mean
what the listener hears.
Lucy Power Mar 2012
Clear, serene, crystal pool of collected calm
naked to the eye, deceiver of the deceived.
I see myself in you.
And so much i hate.

For you spectators are sport;
To be picked and plowed, ticked and crossed.
Making old wrongs new.
Fooling all.

You lie to my face, I see how you
bend and twist your shape.
Contorting my view. Calling me untrue.
Nothing is upfront.

My hands are tied behind, a foot above
hovers the dagger.
It hangs, yellow, brittle, jagged canine.
Reminds me of your smile.

Villains smile. One day I will rap a knuckle,
crack your rattling skull.
I will open that box and set evil upon the world.
All I have ever known.

Seven years bad luck;
better than a life time.
david badgerow Jan 2014
shot of whiskey
i shot my mouth off at a bible salesman
shot a man with a glass eye on a street corner
he shot me a mean streak
shot out a candy cane window
a king in a powder blue sedan shot down the turnpike
never had a shot with her in a red flannel shirt
shot a broke down dog at a fire hydrant in birmingham
he shot out of a lawn mower
shot towards some handshaking stranger
shot down some train tracks
shadows shot with arms upraised
being shot at by electric trains
i shot a mirror at the stars
they shot back with a voiceless gesture
she shot right through my heart
her hair shot gold to kingdom come
When I heard the learn’d astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
Willard Wells Feb 2016
It's expected that the level of
medication needed to maintain
the level of sanity found in writing.
Would be found to be cost prohibitive to sustain.

Going forward, the prescription that
will be prescribed first,
will be for pen and paper
or any source at hand.

Find you voice, speak out,
sharing what is fun for you.
What drives you, your passion.
Then move on to the next project.

Be your own force,
Even if just a voice of one,
you were meant to be heard.
Solaces Jul 2016
The storm is moving in on the horizon.
Its been a very long time since we had a storm out here..
The winds where picking up and all of my windchimes rang..
When I heard the wind chimes it flashed all before me.  
On where I was the night before and many nights before that..
Chimes and vibrations where the first to greet me..
Followed by lights directly shined into my eyes..
I could now remember sleeping with my eyes open..
Everything around me was made of a shiny lustrous metal.
Shadows would pass over my eyes from time to time.
To my horror I then realised what was going on..
They were studying what I was.
Looking inside me to see what makes me alive.
They spoke to eachother in strange clicks and hisses..
As they returned me home, my windchimes started to sing..
I awoke in my bed..
Was this just a bad dream?
They come from above and look inside..
Drew Osmond Nov 2010
I am a sheep,
Just one in a herd of many,
For once it would be nice to be heard
But as usual I am afraid to speak up.

Just following along like a sheep in the farm
Doing as I am told, not doing as I wish.
Just step up and think for myself.
I wish it were that easy for me…

I will fall back in line to get lost with the clones.

Slowly the field gets smaller and smaller,
Where is everyone going?
Left nothing behind, no memories, no stories.
They were never heard…

Speak up now, or forever remain silent,
I wish to be heard, but I have no idea what to say.
Would anyone even listen?
I don’t think so….

Just a Sheep…

I tried so hard to have my voice heard,
But once again nothing comes out,
It happens time and time again.
I cant break this curse.
Think for myself!
I want to think….

Just continue to follow and follow….
Until I break,
I cant stay silent,
I WILL speak up!
I am done following the sheep in this herd.

I Will be Heard
Will you listen?...
Please listen
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