Best Eavesdropped Poems
Strolling the beach one day, a magnificent shell I happened to see.
I picked it up and held it to my ear - just out of curiosity -
To see if the old wives tale was true that it could speak to me!
Behold! 'Tis true! What fantastic tales it spewed forth from the sea!
I heard waves lapping gently against a sailboat as through the sea it tore,
And the mighty roar of breakers crashing upon a distant shore!
I eavesdropped on a pod of gossiping whales cruising at their leisure,
And I could swear I heard phantom pirates arguing o'er lost treasure!
I heard the battles' roar of mighty armadas in their quest for victory,
And the screams of heroic men slipping 'neath the waves to spend eternity!
I heard the groan of majestic ships breaking apart plunging to the deep.
I even heard the final SOS of the Titanic before it took its tragic leap!
I heard the chanting of old sea dogs as they plied the bounding main,
And their pleas for God's mercy as they sailed his treacherous domain!
I heard the wind shrieking through the rigging of the dashing Cutty Sark,
As she sped through the Roaring Forties, those straits so very startk!
I was startled to hear sergeant major fish count cadence as if on parade,
And the amorous beckoning coo of a charming, yet illusive mermaid!
Could it be that these mysterious things I heard were just an aberration?
Perhaps, but what a change from my boring cell phone communication!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
We used to Communicate, Brainstorm, Debate
but I find you've been quiet and distant, of late.
Just what aren't you Saying? What is the good Word?
To find out, I eavesdropped and here's all that I heard:
You Cheered from the couch for your favorite team,
then Boo-ed twice as loud when they ran out of steam.
You Uttered a curse word with nary a thought,
then you Muttered "I'm sorry" to those in earshot.
You Ordered a drink and took more than a sip,
then Explained to the waiter why there'd be no tip.
You Growled at the dog thinking he'd comprehend,
then you Howled when he bit you, cuz it was pretend.
You Broke the news gently when grandmother died
and Offered condolence when some of us cried.
You Whispered a prayer right before the big game,
then Ranted when they won, cuz they did the same.
You Offered to take the kids out for the day
then Recanted when you found out you'd have to pay.
You Requested a raise and when Boss Man said no,
you Suggested that hell was a place he could go.
You Gossiped about the new guy at the gym,
but Denied it when you were confronted by him.
You have Uttered and Muttered and Whispered and Lied.
You've Lamented, Suggested, Proclaimed and Denied.
You'll talk anyone's ear off with babbling glee,
so I ask - is there something you want to Tell ME?
================
Current Contest: Screwed V
Original Contest: Is There Something You Want to Tell Me
07/05/2015
BLACK,RED and GOLD
Location---SOMEWHERE IN KÖNIGSBERG 1945 APRIL 9
Scene---A Dying German Agent/A Soldier`s thoughts/reflections just before death
On this periphery of life
Let blue jeans of my ice blonde Brenda wear me to marry with death
Fire will be her gown, ashes shall be my girdle, shattered is everything beneath
Smokes so discerned sprawling
Some will say it was a poetic corpse after so deadly the strife
Wrapped in unknown funerary fetes
My blood will be poured in cask of mimicks
A yawn concealing me in semicolon as I saw I was dying,
sickened of the sicks
All the ravens of sorcery lurking the corner in full stops
As if I knew nothing following the wisdom of Socrates
Boots and kilt emphasizing my lost treasure
At last the casket to embrace me from the provocateur
No persuasive argument will be my candy,
a keepsake solidarity in barter
A marked plot spewed by shrewd men
An aftermath velvet and a last squint of Prussia far and near
Death so dear only to see if the lady in red silk I loved has red roses
My dear Soviet plezhvadya
for the wide-brimmed black hat, red bloody eyes hers, a gunshot
,yellow mouthful venom of words oozing out in raucous abuses
Hatred carped in end and unend Olesya, good as gold my Olesya
Now the bastion they called bastards buccaneered before her epithet
Kaliningrad`s cloud full of black so black an obnoxious smoke
Davai! Davai! they shouted and again nemesis eavesdropped
Eagles died I know not if a death of glory as I felt I saw an 1871 gauntlet
That’s my last shot of life before I became death`s forgotten lucky bloke
Vocabulary --1-Plezhvadya(Russian/Czech)- A Soviet dish
2.Davai!(Russian)--Let`s do it, Come on!
3.Obnoxious-extremely unpleasant
4.Gauntlet-An armored glove of the tectonic Knights
5.Raucous-Harsh,Sharp,Loud
6.Barter-Exchange,Trade,Swap without use of money
7.Buccaneer-Maruader,Plunderer,Raider
Planet of the Grapes
and so the grapes
conspired
met in secret bunches
eavesdropped
on the vintners
during their
wine sipping lunches.
too win we must
subvert their minds
causing loss of focus
torturously tenderize
rendering it “mocus”.
we must accept
our crushing fate
entombment in the
vintners cellar
convince them
their dreams absurd
are absolutely stellar.
we’ll infiltrate
the highest realms
of the intelligentsia
cripple them
in brain cell death
of alcohols dementia.
they will tend
the very vines
that nurture revolution
unknowingly
complicit in
our forty proof solution.
John G. Lawless
10/18/2014
For the “Words – The Heart of Imagination?” – Poetry Contest
Sponsor – Brian Johnston
“It’s the day
God will send His Son”
Overheard the guardian angels say
“It’s the day
The infant king will jump out of the tummy”
Heard the sheep caressing the calf
“It’s the day
The saviour of the universe is coming”
Eavesdropped on the trees murmur
I wonder! What it felt to see him
*************************************
A man with a shepherd’s crook and a woman
Make place for their stay where it meant for me
How dare!
They don’t care
Oh, she is carrying and let it be
I don’t care
I am all busy whining my litany of complaints to mom
Of that black sheep who tried making a meal out of me
******************************************
“Sleep baby, it’s time to bed”
I hear mom whisper
But, why is that woman crying
Loud in pain
*****************************************
“He is coming, our saviour, the infant King
To wipe out the pain
To console the deprived souls
To teach us Love”
Heard the shepherds whisper
Snooping out of bed
Craning my neck
I got a glimpse of the divine delivery
Soft pink fingers, kindness-filled eyes and a sweet smile
All it is
Made at ease
He is all Love
******************************************
“Oh My Lord, How can I be a part of the divine mission”
Being a silly little flower
“Mom, wake up, wake up”
“The Mighty King came; let us make a bed for Him”
Fondling him with my face
Effacing all my sins
I find peace and let it long until I merge in You in the dawn
Poetry contest : Christmas with Christ
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Colures transposed orbits closed whence derive the rains of rose?
Across million mileage magic and magnitude are striding
O'er holistic horizon svelteness and smoothness are sliding
Meridian framed parallax tamed whither swash the rains of rose?
Spray by spray, knuckle down to my mood pensive
From ethereal to real, from sparse to intensive
Soon drenched head o'er heels
I found the root of my romance's route
Under a bracing baptism bringing fine feels
From amazed to aplomb, from something uneasy to nothing moot
Memo peeped murmurs eavesdropped how to diagnose
My long-overdue romance syndrome, rain of rose?
Among infinitesimal traces palpating sentimental palpitations
And probing their pathetic derivations
Throughout infinite engrams pinpointing fugal focuses
And precluding their maudlin metamorphoses
Tender spot perceived hardened navel-gazing detected
Rain of rose, how to track and treat my vulnerable veins well-directed?
Self-moderating little by little
Instilling solace into me trickle by trickle
Yarn by yarn, untangle my yearns intricate
From aggressive to assimilable, from inquisitive to intimate
Rosy, rosy rain
Messenger from ineffable Cockayne
Where comet breeze fondles her finery of frieze
Into my laps leap swaths of her lusty ease
Rosy, rosy rain
Sharp switcher of memory lane
Where murk and melancholia of yore
Transfigure into present horoscopes and kaleidoscopes galore
Rosy,rosy rain
Recoverer from romance drain
Ripple by ripple streams into her likeness, lusciousness lacing limpidity
Alleviating my lovelorn insipidity and rigidity
Rosy, rosy rain
Precise pacesetter of telepathic vane
Wisp by wisp floats familiar fragrance and grace
My well-oriented paces in lockstep with her fairy trace
Rosy, rosy rain
Shuttle through sensorial chain
Calm inside, my premier ego as huddled as a musing esthete
Passion outgoing, the alter ego as loosened as an effusing synesthete
Rosy, rosy rain
Seamless scourer of sour and pain
Inch by inch rinses away blue waves of woes
Rousing the resting redolence of rose
Rosy, rosy rain
Merry melody with voluble refrains
Note by note, elicits dulcet endearments of old years
Fleeing from errant mindscape, destined to attentive ears.
The howling winds of March
Furious gusts of air
mightily blow bestirring anchored poet
sitting comfortably numb
securely strapped in his hard to maneuver
easy bath chair
while all around him debris
strewn helter skelter everywhere
heavy objects unmoored
pirouetting topsy turvy
defying laws of physics
cue Adam Smith
courtesy his invisible hand
eulogizing, kickstarting, and regulating
unseen cogs and gear
in order to avoid being plucked up
analogous to whirling dervish
ye dear reader best don
top of the line name brand ironware
to fend off soundcloud
analogous to webbed
whirled wide rooky banshee
hounding kingly bishopric
inducing royal knightmare
whereat pawns called play
as damage control representatives
ultimately linkedin to medicare
for bodily harm suffered
and property destruction
doled out courtesy Nationwide Insurance,
nevertheless yours truly
experienced heightened anxiety
cuz I accidentally, casually, easily,
et cetera eavesdropped,
though a polite gentleman (boot no scholar)
loud talking policyholder
anyone could easily overhear
their strident vocalizations
and they owned chutzpah to *****
re: me for listening to conversation
threatening with abominable language to scare
living daylights, which nearly caused
writer of these words
to soil his underwear
such vociferous threats
wrought quick thinking defense posture,
whereby my ordinary shy demeanor
empowered after downing
powder milk biscuits
(cuz heaven's their tasty)
and declaring warfare
against being bullied
versus suffering as token scapegoat
most every year
from boyhood until emerging adulthood.
After crafting above lines
current generated via whoosh;
I sat mine hind quarters
(otherwise referred to the tush),
which signalled to Doctor Quackenbush,
(id est Groucho Marx)
not deficient with quick wit
whose hook, line and sinker
word of the day namaycush
helped one environmental seaman
high (fish) tail to Hindu Kush
where removal from madding crowd
spiritually inoculated one
with a profound hush.
hopeless
this
i am sad
tell me why is that so bad
i guess i don't know
no
good words
i did not go to school
i didn't wear clothes
listen to music
or study
feel cool
how do i get into this world
with a ged
and a criminal record
now that
you say i am free
down
i am
why so much
tell me why is everything
so close to the touch
so
far away
stars they say
am i doomed
or dubbed
is this real
tangible
something i can
place in my pocket and steal
i guess happiness
such a simple word
and we all want the same thing
love didn't give me no
stinking diamond ring
it was a cop out
a fix
a second home
too scared to put myself out there
in the unknown
i guess this thing i dream
is too much to bear
so i sleep
and i dream
i display no care
so all i learned
take it as you will
is an ignorant crude
and cruel survival
a mixture of things i've
eavesdropped
and words i thought
i'd known
oh well we all want the same thing
to say
feel the same
i wish and dream
in my sleep
that i can
without aching
without thinking
without shooting up, smoking
boozing, drinking
that calm that peace that sweet release
can i get a little
stinking
ease
please god
oh please
If you've ever seen Ca' Rezzonico
seeming quite to float
upon the Grand Canal
as you bob in a boat,
or if you've ever eavesdropped
in some Trastevere alley
some golden afternoon
on some tenor's voice a-sobbing
beneath an early moon,
or in Andrea della Valle
breathed in Puccini's subtle chords,
you'll know that life affords
no more sacred boon.
Recondita armonia, literally.
If you've taken in
Albinoni's Adaggio
or gnocchi con formaggio
in a loggia on the Arno
or the slopes of Montepulciano,
or walked in misty thunder
the olive groves of Cennina,
or sat in wordless wonder
in the theater of Taormina,
or witnessed Piero's frescoes
in San Francesco of Arezzo,
or breathed the morning sunlight
or Mascagni's Intermezzo,
seen summer rain in torrents
come laughing down the street,
then you'll know why
or looked down upon fair Florence
like a carpet at your feet,
Italians set at variance
themselves and us,
and call us The Barbarians.
Have you ever wished you could mind read?
Let me save you some trouble my friend,
When those weird thoughts seem to pop in your head
The best plan, simply turn them on end
Consider if things were reverse that
And she could read your mind at will
Knowing what you are dreaming of later
Do you think she'd let you pay the bill?
Reading minds can really be tricky,
Her favorite word's sticky wicket
You can never be sure of the context
Could it be she's not thinking cricket?
A woman's own thoughts need translation
It's important that she gets to speak
The sweet sound of her voice can be pretty
But the words in her head are still Greek!
If you could read her mind, well what then,
Just what are you hoping to find out,
That her brother is really a slob,
Or that all her best friend does is pout?
Have you ever eavesdropped on someone?
They know others have ears, they're aware,
But a brain you covertly check out,
Dollars to donuts, nobody's there.
Take my advice and don't sell your soul
For something you just think you want,
Else a wish to play great piano
Might just make you a brain dead savant.
Oh sure there are times it might be fun,
Truly know what goes on deep inside
But the best moment of a lifetime?
The moment she takes you for a ride!
Brian Johnston
August 1 2014
Seeking a shred of purpose
to pass the remaining time
or play with dark spots
and flashes of thunder
and dreams of vespers?
Tenderly rummaging through memories of bones
and promises of fragile enchantments.
Who awaits us in the elder's shadow?
Who awaits us, winged spirits with swollen faces
after we have consumed the last refuge
of weary scribblers?
Once upon a time there was a wise seeker of sincere glances,
who eavesdropped on the wind, trail of voices of
sleepless bankers and spied the metal-coloured auroras,
to unearth the treasures of the caravans
of eager young people, never attentive
to the fate of the objects of memory.
He found no joy, but fell asleep
on the bankers' doorstep
with the complicit gaze of the young
My sweet baby sister (AKA the traitor)
Has radars for ears and the mind of a spy,
She eavesdrops, twists facts, and then tattletales,
And proudly serves mom an elaborate lie.
I sweet talked, I begged, I bribed then I threatened,
Locked her in the bathroom and turned off the light,
I secretly hoped that she would get better:
It got better indeed, not sis, but her spite!
She listened in to the private confession
About the boy crush that I shared with a friend,
She posted it promptly on-line, no discretion
No mercy, no sisterhood! Viral it went!
That sure was the last camel back-breaking straw!
Eavesdropped and Exposed!!!- an egregious offence!
Should be charged, prosecuted and punished by law,
With no chance of parole, appeal or defense!
December, 14, 2019
Wicked whispers, like hisses,
slithered throughout the office
when the disliked departed for the day.
Rotten hysteria blared
like beastly blasts.
Louder their voices leaped
as they could see that she was gone.
Like following lost sheep,
on and on they'd bleep
about her crazy ways,
her annoying voice,
her ogre odor,
her misfit outfits and
a myriad of mindless ramblings.
My conscience wanted to stop them,
to stomp on their every word,
but my speech was stilled
in impactful silence.
Suddenly she scampered back,
secretly weaving toward
her forgotten sweatshirt,
draped upon her rolling chair
where whispers
gnawed like moths.
She grabbed it with a snap
then whisked away.
I wondered, with
empathic embarrassment,
how much damaging slander
she had overheard.
12-13-19
There once was a young lady from Merced
Who eavesdropped on what other people said
Ears did ring
News did bring
What some people said about her she heard
We went on a boat ride
on the Ohio.
The river boat
paddled almost to the Mississippi
then it turned
ever so slowly into the night.
The dark steps of the waves
drowned our words.
We eavesdropped
on a language put together
from the splashed glances
of the moon.
It was all so barely concealed
a part submerged affair
we were having
with the shadowy heat
the slow churning depths.