"overhears" poems
191
The Skies can’t keep their secret!
They tell it to the Hills—
The Hills just tell the Orchards—
And they—the Daffodils!
A Bird—by chance—that goes that way—
Soft overhears the whole—
If I should bribe the little Bird—
Who knows but she would tell?
I think I won’t—however—
It’s finer—not to know—
If Summer were an Axiom—
What sorcery had Snow?
So keep your secret—Father!
I would not—if I could,
Know what the Sapphire Fellows, do,
In your new-fashioned world!
9.6k
When you are feeling sad and lonely, seeking security,
Lust comes by and gives you a little taste of beautiful gifts
and it says to you,
"Come to me and I will make you feel warm and secure. I will insert butterflies into your stomach. You will smile for no reason and be happy all the time. You won't be able to sleep all night, but when you finally fall asleep, you will fall asleep happy."
You are overjoyed at what lust has to offer, and jump up and down in excitement as a little child would on Christmas Eve.
Suddenly you feel a little tug at your waist from behind.. It's Reality
You turn around and you ask Reality
"May I please go with Lust?"
Reality says with a smile on its face,
"Go on, have fun. But please be careful. Just know that I will always be here waiting for you at the end."
You think to yourself, what does Reality even mean?
You don't need it anymore.. you have Lust now
You're way too excited to embark on this new journey with Lust so you forget all about what Reality had to say
For a while, being with Lust is great
It gave you all the things that it said it would
You finally feel like you're happy and nothing could change that
Right at that moment when you felt like you were secure
Suddenly, things turned evil
Lust is not what you thought it was.
Lust was just a big tactic to take you away from you
Lust was an offering, a sacrifice, to lose your state of mind and routine of everyday life
The inevitable happens and
Just like that,
Lust leaves you
You cry helplessly
You get on your knees and beg lust to stay
That you will do anything, give it anything at all
Just for Lust to stay
But when Lust came to you, it didn't tell you one very important thing
Lust is a *****
Lust was not built for relationships
Lust cannot and will not stay
For anybody
Sure enough, Reality is there
It was waiting for you to come back
Beside Reality stands Life
You confront Reality and say that you're sorry for leaving
Life overhears your cry and says,
"Don't worry moon child, you will get over this because you are a strong individual. You were built for this. You were meant to be on this Earth to make mistakes and learn from them, and grow as a person. You were meant to feel happiness just as you were meant to feel sadness. This is a beautiful cycle. You will be okay again. Please remember to not forget to enjoy this journey. I love you."
© yungwifey
Aug 4, 2015
Aug 4, 2015 at 7:20 PM UTC
I'll never know which way her head turns first when she hears my voice, or what stupid jokes make her start laughing all embarrassed, idk what it feels like to hug her, idk what kinds of foods she likes to snack on, idk what she looks like when she's tired, idk what random moments can make her smile, idk what she shakes her head at when she overhears a conversation, idk if she leans on a desk before she gets up or if she scoots out her chair first, idk if she picks her nails, idk if she lips when she gets an injury from basketball, idk what her hands feel like in mine, idk what shampoo she uses and what her hair smells like and how short she is compared to me so i can kiss her head and- i could go on. But it's the little things, you know? You two have that and I don't and it makes me sad
Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 4:55 AM UTC
as is our wont, she cooks, I clean.
a division of labor, that reflects
skills levels celebrating
les différences vivent!
sink-bent, over the grill pans,
with water thundering,
soap liquid armies/battles concocting
(secret, shh!)
nonetheless overhears her
chilling in bed,
veg TV watching
thunderous interrupted by
what he knows
will be minimum six or
seven sneezes
which is her wont.
one/two won't ever do,
she a veritable sneezing machine gun,
ever alert, the scrubbing man
becomes a danseur fluid,
performing a triple tours en l'aire
from kitchen to bed in three bounds
with swift and mighty leaps to new heights,
he makes his way to her side,
having plucked tissues,
from a nearby, overhanging branch
upon his way.
seven sneezes immobilize,
kinda like being tasered,
snowball-in-the-face stunners,
requires her man to be a her-o-dancer
to be a savior, gift bearing
of relief-aid to her side.
he returns to the kitchen work,
you cannot half wash dishes,
it's an all or none thing,
it's a man self back slap/clap of the hands
when satisfaction of job completed visible.
satisfaction of just rewards
should always be given
to heroes,
danseurs,
dishwashers,
one and all
so when he slips in beside her,
greeted with seven kisses
for seven sneezes
*and this children
is no love poem,
but one of daily stories of
lives well lived in love,
where the mundane,
where the ordinary,
traded up into precious extraordinary
are ever on poems of life,
and ok,
yup,
love
too.*
now slap/clap for jobs well done....
May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 11:10 AM UTC
The cigarette-smoke loops and slides above us,
Dipping and swirling as the waiter passes;
You strike a match and stare upon the flame.
The tiny fire leaps in your eyes a moment,
And dwindles away as silently as it came.
This melody, you say, has certain voices--
They rise like nereids from a river, singing,
Lift white faces, and dive to darkness again.
Wherever you go you bear this river with you:
A leaf falls,--and it flows, and you have pain.
So says the tune to you--but what to me?
What to the waiter, as he pours your coffee,
The violinist who suavely draws his bow?
That man, who folds his paper, overhears it.
A thousand dreams revolve and fall and flow.
Some one there is who sees a ****** stepping
Down marble stairs to a deep tomb of roses:
At the last moment she lifts remembering eyes.
Green leaves blow down. The place is checked with shadows.
A long-drawn murmur of rain goes down the skies.
And oaks are stripped and bare, and smoke with lightning:
And clouds are blown and torn upon high forests,
And the great sea shakes its walls.
And then falls silence . . . And through long silence falls
This melody once more:
'Down endless stairs she goes, as once before.'
So says the tune to him--but what to me?
What are the worlds I see?
What shapes fantastic, terrible dreams? . . .
I go my secret way, down secret alleys;
My errand is not so simple as it seems.
1.2k
I nightly whisper to stars
showing them my heart
they glitter
the moon overhears us
feels jealous
I keep on teasing him
till the night
washes out
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 3:36 AM UTC
Restless eyes batted senselessly keep me awake.
Numbing illusion grabs hold of my feeble mind and I weep at the thought of my own destruction.
"Savior, savior, where art thou?
Hast thou left me to my own devices?"
Trouble, trouble, all around.
Madness wreaks my daunted mind
Shadows leap the unkept room
Dance back to canto ye demons of old!
Ravishing through the harrows of an untidy brain
Checking for sanity, what little remains,
The pace quickens
The plot thickens
It's madness in the mind of a passerby!
I see a helpless fellow,
Whose wings are too heavy to let him fly
And his heart too weary to let him abandon his own mortality.
Fool, I say.
Fool for being so careless, where he puts his love.
Should be kept in a sacred jar
And locked away.
"Nay nay" stranger overhears,
"My heart was right
My heart was just,
I must fight to win what I call mine for love is only given to those who fight for it."
I let him live his fantasy,
Poor boy who committed too many crimes and only wants more chances.
However, I think, persistence is rewarded to those with justice in their hearts.
I think it not too heavy after all.
And then I wake in the treacherous night
To realize that the boy
Was me.
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 11:19 PM UTC
9 YEARS OLD
Daddy told me I'm special, I'm his perfect little girl.
Daddy leaves bruises on my body
Daddy doesn't hit me he says
"it was only a smack"
10 YEARS OLD
Daddy told me that i am slow
If I carry on this way i will never get a job
He moves me to another school
I don't care, at least here they wont make fun of my mum,
11 YEARS OLD
I cant keep up with my school work
the class moves to fast
my father hits, punches and slaps
my father breaks my pencil
i tell my friend that he snapped my pencil
Daddy overhears he says
"don't tell people what happens at home or daddy will go to jail"
I didn't think that what he was doing was wrong
I thought that everyone got this too
12 YEARS OLD
I'm in a school and having lots of fun
Daddy says to make no friends
that i shouldn't trust anyone
he doesn't hit anymore
he threatens me at home
15 YEARS OLD
I have few friends that know nothing about my home
My parents are no longer together
and i feel completely alone
I have no trust
no family
nothing at all
Daddy tells me i can tell him everything
I tell him how i feel
He hits my wall, i see his eyes turn red
Daddy says
"If you were my son i would his the crap out of you"
because he thinks that its ok
to his a boy but not a girl
and that is not ok.
i want to die
i cant go on
I look him in the
eye this is not my Daddy
this is a man, who i have never known
He thinks im going to **** myself
so he leaves me with with one thing
The man says
"If you **** yourself, i Will **** myself"
to try to make me feel guilty
it only makes me think that
If my death will result in his
then the world is better off without me
May 13, 2017
May 13, 2017 at 6:18 AM UTC
she sits there in the corner.
Gazing upon the bottom of her glass.
The smell a menthol fills the air.
cognac that's her drink, no ice.
he's almost too scared to approach her.
not quite to sure what to say.
not knowing if the time is right.
he lites his Jade.
the smell almond the lite flickers.
her eyes hazel.
the barkeep says to him.
what do you want?
He replies, clearly something I can't afford.
she overhears over the noise.
her smile lights up the room, as she laughs.
what can he afford, in between her sweet giggles.
feels like a rock at the pit of the stomach.
paralyzed, startled at a loss of words.
he starts to feel like one of them Disney characters.
***** or somebody can't quite call it.
he can't quite look her in the eyes.
he orders the same thing.
cognac no chaser.
in the background there is a song playing.
sorta nostalgic yeah unfamiliar to average ears.
The base jumps, the strings hit the g cord.
her hair, cascades over her face.
she approaches the band.
he walks up to her, ever so gently upon her shoulder.
They lock eyes, he opens his mouth as if saw love.
before the first word come out of his mouth.
the lights come on, the clock strikes.
Tick.
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
Sorry for the delay. I was busy.
I'm still alone. U?
**********************************
zealotry yawping within un
pretentious sporty, quirky,
oddly, manly, kooky, impisly, gummy,
edgy, dorky, cocky, belly airs
to disseminate, a quick
literary flourishing brushstroke
no on nest to dog lie 'n, tie gears
(tigers) boot this chap bears,
who copped, dropped,
plopped out of college devoid of any careers,
and wandered the globe after
searching classifieds for reign leaderless deers,
this buck rogers wannabe could be doe ting,
and assist sleigh get off the ground
on account of his Dumbo ears,
despite abomination, hesitation, and trepidation
to push comfort zone and exposure therapy skyward
in order to over nervousness about being in high places
plus countless other fears,
and an extreme intervention measure considered,
would be brain transplanat with that of another,
whose mental cogs and gears
and a canine like audibility acute as a hares
means to sprint at light speed if senses
being caught in the cross hairs of a gun barrel,
whose fate doomed demise almost insnares,
yet PETA type person would loathe any jeers
if any animal alluded to characterized
heading toward harm
and in reality, this heir,
who favors knitwears
with pink frilly (“I HATE BOYS”) *******
would put his measly life on the line,
cuz aye believe every creature own right to live,
whether they dwell in **** trees or underground lairs,
oh..., or kept in stable condition
of ca horse hi mean mares,
a barn strewn with hay during the day
to fend off pitch black ominous sounds
Equus ferus caballus (Hardy
as a mountain Laurel),
but quite susceptible to nightmares
thus some veteranarians strongly suggest
cloth eye elastic lined ocular shades,
but please make sure Mister Ed,
or his ilk doth newt overhears.
------------------------------------
addy ewe - matthew scott harris
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 12:40 AM UTC
I remember my rides
With high speeds ..
The thrills, the adventure in rain, hail and shine..
I remember my days spent wandering...
In countryside and beyond..
I remember heavy rains..
Made sudden urge for drive...
The unplanned long drives,
The eating out was always a norm..
And junk food was so much fun...
The speed kills, never detested my love to ride back then,
And
Life was so much fun...
The adventure is all changed now,
Since my daughter came along,
I started to watch my speed,
And 30-40km/hr became a check point in my life,
Rain became a slippery mess,
And I became a careful rider..
Where,
I cannot meet an accident,
Getting injured or sick is out of question,
Being healthy is a compulsion..
And life cannot be taken for granted,
Cause I have to take care of my little one.
I cannot be a careless mess,
I cannot eat burger for lunch..
My daughter demands pizza and fries,
I serve her baked veggies topped with sunshine..(fried egg)..
She give me a harsh look to ****
I give back her a smile..
She knows her gaze did not ****
She attack her food with no fun...
All my ABC's start with veggies and fruits..
Cautious me is always in a fret..
A bit cold makes me a nurse,
I wrap my daughter in coat doubled of woolen.
When she overhears my adventure days,
She can't believe her ears and feels all untrue..
One day she saw my album of old pics..
Questioning eyes, accusing eyes all was on her face..
The pic had me..
Riding fast..ending on a pizza joint, with spirits in my hands ..
And now,
I have a sheepish smile to hide my fear.
Trying time of explaining stuff that had been a distant past..
Next thing on my list was,
To hide the album deep,
For never to be found again till she becomes a parent, a mom....!
The adventure of being a mom are too high...
Mom can't have a drink and sleep carefree...
But with sleepless nights, she become a zombie.
Mom can't go for long drive , can't spend night- outs with her friends,
And she ends up with tension high degree, When daughter doesn't return from her friend's birthday celebration.
Mom can't spend time on the foolish talks with her friends on phone ...
For the energy drains with arguments with daughter for rights and wrongs
And for the now that's wrongs, which was once right .
Being a Mom is toughest thing...
To live a life with example is the adventure in itself.
Sparkle In Wisdom
31/7/2019
Aug 1, 2019
Aug 1, 2019 at 10:15 AM UTC
Kneeling cold in the corner he taps his head against the wall
Nose running with tears the same he has no strength to wipe away
Just ten years old he’s doing his best on waiting for the call
Something happened with mom, she wouldn’t stop crying all day
He wants mommy to be ok, he starts to pray so that she won’t be hurt
He says he’ll give his toys away just to see her smiling face once more
Hours go by as he shivers to sleep he opens his eyes to pain and dirt
He fell from a swing with his dad walking up saying he had gone to the store
Another vision flashes in his mind of daddy hitting mommy across the face
He tries to help her but is struck down too with so much pain in his soul
He snaps awake to noise in the room people rushing around out of place
His mom rushing past him like he wasn’t there he felt like a half torn from a whole
He tries to run after her crying her name but it’s as if she disappeared down the hall
Sobbing on the floor confused he is crying for help but no one hears his screams
He tries to stand but the floors are warped, he heads towards the room at a crawl
Wanting to know why his mom couldn’t stop crying he feels trapped in one of his dreams
Getting closer and closer to the room he’s struggling to see whose lying on the bed
Giving it all his strength he stands as tall as he can to see something he never thought he would
Lying there still and cold was himself he finally realized that he was the one who was dead
Stunned and cold as the darkness falls he looked for answers after doing nothing but good
He overhears the doctor say the cause of death was drowned by the dad
The wretchedness drowns him down and the stark cloudiness begins to instill
Before he has time to say goodbye to the world he vanishes away alone and sad
Fading with the wind he gently whispers that he loved his mom and he always will
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 7:21 PM UTC