Best Overhearing Poems
A hot cup of tea greeting me—
first thing in the morning,
wife smiling unconditionally, xo!
hot water on tap, tsh…
neighbour’s doggy popping in to play,
“yap..yap..”
adding to the warmth,
a nice, steaming breakfast,
finishing the punch line of a poem—for a contest
colleagues in the department patting me on my new shirt,
boss on the phone, “good work, so and so!”
overhearing students chattering merrily—about my latest lecture
a brisk round of tick-tock table tennis,
back home for a sumptuous dinner
and chat with the family, “haha, cacka…packa.. he he”
dozing off while reading a book—zzz...
all these things do happen to me or anyone —
but not on the same day!
Actually, there may be water on tap—not hot
Or while petting, the neighbour’s puppy
pisses on your new shirt…etc!
It is after all my notion of a perfect day—a daydream!
***
Winner, Poetry Contest sponsored by Madison Demetros, December 5, 2017.
He approaches fast
We bump - silly heart beats wildly
Him - lost in thought- No word of apology
We pass each other
He approaches fast
Eyes so blue - elicits soundless sighs
He stares - out into distant skies
We pass each other
He approaches fast
Sensual lips - beg a moonlight kiss
A dropped beat- my heart does miss
We pass each other
He approaches fast
New day dawns - new courage found
Courage flees - from lips no sound
We pass each other
He approaches fast
Gold tipped streaks - on hair of brown
He neither smiles - nor does he frown
We pass each other
He approaches fast
Hint of down - on a manly chin
Imagining stroking it - I hide a grin
We pass each other
He approaches fast
Convinced he’ll smile - eye contact meet
He hurries by - I concede defeat
We pass each other
He approaches fast
Smile he does - chatting on the phone
Pangs of hurt - He’s not alone
We pass each other
He approaches fast
I hurry on - with eyes downcast
A bump I feel - and look aghast
I look into the bluest eyes
My heart it stops
I groan
I die
A quizzical smile plays on his lips
Oh beating heart that soars and dips
And so this moment I shall seize
Forever in my memory freeze
We stand and grin- no words to utter
Still ----We don’t pass each other
Footnote:
School over and kids thronged a mall, where I sat sipping my coffee in a café. I couldn’t help overhearing some high school girls, loudly talking about their teenage crushes which prompted me to write this amusing poem. I’m sure parents of teenage girls the world over will undeniably identify with. Oh!! And of course Taylor Swift was one of their favourite singers.
Music video by Taylor Swift performing ‘You Belong With Me’ (C) 2009 Big Machine Records, LLC
Published on Jun 16, 2009 #VEVOCertified on April 16, 2011.
Last night's Wim Wenders film Wings of Desire, not starring Adam
Sandler,
great in the great tradition of Metropolis, Fellini, Children of Paradise,
Ikiru, Open City.
This is not comedy though it can be funny overhearing people thinking,
the randomness of thought, data dots, circles with dots, sadness and
silliness,
silly sadness, confusion, rarely a clear thought, not one logical
lucid progression. Deep art.
I'd like to do better than my best so far, write something with
hydroxyapatite
that won't gather dust then become dust a neuron of sweetness,
an early morning bicyclist, a lost ghost or fallen angel
any form from which death might abstain or forego appetite.
Appearing to meander from subject to subject is my practice. Looking
for solutions to the equations. Learning the changes then forgetting
them.
The expressions emanating from mortal minds are broken stamens, sticky
stigmas.
Striving for immortality,
some Spanish philosopher (who looks like Don Quixote)
says he understands and it's alright.
I will read what he wrote and probably agree
but is he immortal? Not his body, but his thoughts.
True, I say, but this also: Not his mind, but his thoughts. Unchanging and
finite. Put them in a hatbox and pass them on as heirlooms.
To overhear the secret thoughts of others. Sharing and unsharing
electrons, disrobing
and bathing. That is the purpose of poetry. Gargoyle twice. Did Wim
give each thought its own voice or use the same voice for all thoughts,
every whim.
It was just another ordinary day
Scattered notes are all over the place
Drums trying to maintain a certain beat
Guitars either strumming or singing
Violins studying their scales and arpeggios
The piano pouring out its player’s soul
Clarinets and flutes blowing out harmonies
A mesmerizing vocal cuts through
A white butterfly flutters freely
Basking in the building’s flowing melodies
Students rushing in and out of the cafeteria
Sheet music in their hands while eating
Leaves of variant colors fall from the trees
The wind blows in one direction
Compensating for the scorching hot sun
Taking turns as nature takes its usual course
Old friends reconcile and greet each other
Re-living past memories and narrating the present
Speaking of profound concepts within their discourse
Anyone overhearing may be left confused
It was just another ordinary day
Scattered notes are all over the place
Many things happening all at once
Yet the resonant music remained unnerved
Overhearing a whispered conversation
It caused her a bit of consternation
She learned she was to be terminated
Her teaching job, she thought, might be eliminated
But an angry suitor she had rebuked
And mockingly called him a messed up kook
So when he first told a friend to “take her out”
She thought his matchmaking she could do without
The friend, aka “eraser,” she had never met
And she never realized her ex beau’s threat
Meant more than a simple ill-conceived date
And walking home one night, eraser lay in wait
But she needn’t have feared, schools would continue
They had just taken her to another venue
Eraser saw to it that she swam with the fishes
And now she’s one of Jaw’s favorite dishes
Overhearing her shriek
At the trees, he
Keeps gardening, whispering
Soothing sounds to the soil
for andrea's acrostic contest
8/27/13
Stepping into an unfamiliar view
The room, the faces, everything is new
You've done what you're asked but no one's around
Barely quiet but hard to make a sound
Nothing left to do but sit and just wait
Watching the hours go by until it's late
Hoping a familiar face would drop by
Otherwise I'll just play with my wifi
Something new is what I really do hope
In learning things that's within my field's scope
For now, I think, that would still have to wait
Well it's just the first day, more things await
Surrounded by many professionals
Overhearing stuff educational
But here I am, a fish out of water
Whether there or not, it wouldn't matter
Such is the life of an only intern
Who's hoping that things would take a good turn
Letting time slip by, by writing this poem
Oh look it's almost five. Yay! I go home.
It's like overhearing whispers
Above the rustle of fallen leaves and twigs
Breaking under two pairs of feet apiece
Of bachelors and spinsters
And remembering, it's the dead of winter
A mixing of elements. Go figure
You turn a pillow and sleep some more
But the beauty of it is that you lived
And dreams would have come before
People sitting under the shade of a tree
In the front yard, steadying hands
Over the flames of a sputtering fire
Swapping silent reminiscences
Over good times that could have been
But lost over wisps of nonsensical chatter
Brethren like thieves in the streets
In verbal subterfuge, flashing daggers
And hissing Judas pursing lips to make a kiss
Currents of had-I-knowns running deep
In the rivers of memories about the departed
When a log splits and makes a flare
You dare think it's because you stared
Unlike you, I wasn't there too, in the cabin
Not standing over a pan
But like you, I could also spin yarn
Tell the story of two mountain trout in the grease
Developing a crispy gold tan
And the girl, followed by the lugs
And, of course, hook nose
That hefty door of a man with a Greek name
And a sinister mane
Saying you should have stayed in your lane
A fly on the wall,
overhearing a parent
chastise their teenage child
Shut up, when you hear me
laying down the law
No back talking ...
keep it quiet, yo
Don't wanna hear no squawking
When the riot act is being read,
silence must prevail I'm afraid
Don't wanna hear a peep ...
hold your tongue, yo
Say nothing, unless I say speak
Zip your mouth
Give me the sign:
two fingers running across your lips
Nod your head
north to south
Written words I don't mind
But be careful, you're only getting this one tip ---
When I'm righting your wrong,
keep your mouth zipped
No verbal pardon forthcoming this time,
so zip your mouth ...
unless you're willing to confess to your crime
Balance
In the middle
Between two people, equally needy
Thinking to satisfy both
Win-win, no loss
As a hen does for her chicks,
Or a fair judge in the courts
A case between the servant and boss
The contrast between night and day
Was it not meant to be this way?
If there was no night
The moonlight would have to join the day
Or find another place to display
But then, nature has its way
Which after we violate,
Open our mouths and
Loosen our tongues
Then utter complaints
The seasons as if overhearing, decide to change
From summer to winter, sunshine to rain
Right after releasing our last scoff, begin to miss again
Ah, men will always be men
As I ponder over why he complains
I understood the need for balance and coherence
Imagine if every force, energy and action
Every thought and maybe every passion
Was in perfect balance
If there was equality, yielding peace and tranquility
No highs and lows but all leveled
Unlike a turbulent flow, all settled
Imagine if all needs were in balance
None so selfish and none so jealous
None so greedy, leaving none overly needy
Imagine if nothing was so easy nor so tough
If the sun shone bright enough
Yet not too strong to cause a wilt
If it were only so, so we wish..
Imagine
If the weather wasn’t harshly cold nor extremely hot
If the air was unpolluted, for Mother Nature wept
Clean and pure, causing no one to suffocate
If there were light showers in the place of hurricanes
Moderate, yet enough for the Farmer’s gain
If a thin line replaced the wide gap between rich and poor
Maybe then,
Men’s heart would fill up with joy,
Leaving no room for complaints.
Death calling
Very few are talented; gifted to discern the undetected sleeping peacefully, Whispering tightly sworn secrecy. Few are specially hand-pick curse to detect.
Numb wind- gentle breeze, cold air breathing salty rusty slightly decayed; mask in air intakes; provides disguised to skeletal fingers velvet faint touches
Rested underneath wet fresh green grass lay dead plant, surrounded by nourishing fertilizers. Eyes blind to nature signs channelling its impressions.
That washed away like evidence in sinking sand; fermenting fruits stored in olive brown wood containers stock shelves untouched by elves chanting for solid goals,
That fell and died, alone in the wilderness wild uproar sensation vibrates castle bells signaling preparation for battle that rang hollow almost undetected combing un-defensive ears, which sleep harmoniously with hidden danger.
Mind scratches away symptoms; deem forgotten but he’s still their lurking; like a tiger snares approaching his pray in fear, but dared to kill growl softly
Disguised itself in thick bushy deep grass advancing like a young cub learning to feed, sheath teeth slowly unsheathed; watching patiently for opportunity to strike
First it killed mood then pinch joy. Attacking peace while planting seeds, which sprang discomfort, leaves hosting buds of confusing flower, eradicated concentration draining essence thirsty; deplete my life source.
I feel it coming standing firmed leg shaking waiting to collapse. Defenselessly overhearing whispers organizing Leisurely, slaying my alliance; paralyzed functions fade.
I heard his voice but helpless to null my silent screams Cocked ears and listened to my death calling.
What makes you break into a smile
And makes your heart blissfully happy?
Sunshine after showers
A candle lit while thinking of a loved one
Lighting an incense stick in a moment of gratitude
A good book by the fireplace
Your hands wrapped around a hot bowl of soup
The cozy blanket over your legs on the couch
The aroma of baking cookies filling the air?
What makes your heart want to explode with joy
The fragrance of wild blossoms in the air
While walking along a garden path
A carefree butterfly fluttering from one flower to the next
Or overhearing a toddler’s infectious laughter?
Locking yourself away for a moment of absolute silence
Listening to an old favorite tune that touches your very soul
Holding something dear that reminds you of that loved one
Touching something soft and amazing that feels like a caress
Looking up at the sky to gaze at the moon and count the stars?
Let's you and I enjoy each other
Let's you and I not waste a day ~
Read on air by invitation ~ May 29, 2022 'POETS HARBOUR'
AP: 2nd place 2022
Submitted on February 17, 2018 for contest SUNSHINE AND SHOWERS sponsored by ROBERT HAIGH - HONORABLE MENTION
I can’t tell you.
I can’t say it out loud.
I’ll whisper in the night,
when the wind is high.
I’ll write it into
every poem I breathe.
but I can’t admit this -
this thing
to you.
The truth is,
it’s hard to face.
This realization I’ve made.
And it tears me apart,
but I can’t tell you.
Because I am not worthy.
I’ll tell it in halves
to those I trust,
but never in full.
Because I can’t say it,
can’t risk you overhearing.
I turn it into
a work of fiction,
in the hopes that
someday it’ll fix it.
Because I’m sitting here,
pen to paper,
with an ever-growing list
of pathetic poetry.
I can’t tell you.
Can’t say it out loud.
Because I can’t lose you.
I’ll tell the bird,
nestled in the tree for winter,
everything I’ve had
hidden away.
Everything bursting
at the shoddy seams of my heart.
And I’ll smile at you,
tell you I hate you,
tell everyone I dislike you,
tell myself I don’t love you.
Because I can’t admit it.
Not to you.
Not to our friends.
Not even to myself.
Because I can’t face
that rejection.
The only one that knows the truth,
wakes me each morning
with it’s song.
But come July,
she’ll be gone.
And all I’ll have left,
is my denial,
my tears,
and a stack of poems,
that you’ll never see.
the crowd amassed ‘round —
HE gave orders to cast off
who would follow HIM?
“wherever YOU go,”
a scribe attempts to follow
HIM into the boat
regrettably quick —
for the SON OF MAN’s homeless
and now rocks the boat
overhearing, one
decides he must go bury
— he stalls the SAVIOR
the writer pauses
‘would she make excuses too?”
stops reading — ponders
“come, follow ME,” says
the ONE who walks on water,
steps into the boat
suddenly the sea
shakes violently, pouring forth
buckets of water
unstable footing
thunder and lightning spurs on
tired hands, wrinkled brows
in peace HE slept
awoken not by the storm
but by those afraid
PEACE but stilled the storm
afraid and amazed, they ask,
“what kind of man is this?”
2/4/2018
At times I wonder,
haven't we ever met before?
The thin ribbon of wind that once passed by,
kissing your chiseled bearded jaw,
hadn't it ever stopped for a bite of a second
on the nest of my fist to kiss my bony fingers?
Were we never together yet apart in the same movie hall
when Jack's canvas was seeking sanctuary in Rose's curves?
The lighthouse that stands still between our valleys,
were we never together witnessing its gorged rays?
Were we never together reminiscing the circles of past seasons
of the sunflower garden,
absorbing the perfume of the raw clay pots drying by the dusty road,
listening to the warble of the pigeons on the pavement of city square
and also overhearing each other's voices
while crossing the crossroads?
Maybe we were, maybe weren't
Or maybe we were always there filling in
Each other's moments of solitaire.