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Voice Poem
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Whisper's of October
Whispers in this soup bowl
20 minutes after its muse explodes,
Daylight remains nothing more than a dream
Warding off the howling sound in mid-September's stream
Casting a line about a ginger light,
found in the depths of everything
Engaging from the sitting twilight, numb, tranquilized
Exposing and expressing the emotions found within
An attic lost in the Ancient sky ---awaits
A poetic hand is formed ---reaching out
A hissing whisper out of the darkness,
Listen-in, the echoes of October are calling
A halo, that reconciles a mysterious monarch moon
A mono grip in which summons a mysterious voice
of sweet serenity
Poets posting poems along the midnight page
Each poet can compose a poem and mimic free fallen verses,
One might call it a creative craving curse,
Webmaster's whose words speak for themselves
Voiceless-
They feel, and spills the will of idolized ink,
Blind-handed, splitting day from night
Warm whispers, needing no food to consume
Migraines of ink, feeding the soul
Burning Pages, overused pens
They've forgotten the pretty flowers
Living like lions, who never comes out of their dens
Murmuring and devouring, the enigmas of the unknown
Eyes behind a sieve, close tighter than before,
They hide nothing-
A world created from every sky-scrape the wall
Wanting to belong, a trick -or- treat*er in disguise
No friends, everything is pretend
These poets can’t be described, can't be believed
They are the best in what they do
For all you know this poet might be me,
This poet might be you
9/3/14
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
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Voice Poem
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Dark Knight-tress
Underneath
This gown I feel nothing
Silk less feelings
The odor of intimate apparel lessens
Vanity fare from any sun
Warrior of beauty
Where have you gone?
A fortress of gloom
Not even death wants in
Black nail tips
Brownish plum lips
I close my eyes
I see them all
The Shadows
Climbing over my soul
The darken deepens
The stars dim my view
Irremovable makeup
Land becomes an enemy
I become
The Dark Knight-tress
Scolding my next victim
~S~
Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013
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Voice Poem
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A diamond in the Frost ... I am Emily, gazing through the years,
Like Poe from rancid taste and dark smoke shadows
Florescent waste escaping a decrepit yet dulcet wilderness
Backward capabilities frontal verse, I am her the almighty universe
Ascending from yesterday's fall, literally and visibly
Swore to be everything you loathe most - a felicity of illusions
You will dream of me, a parasite you can't get rid of
Ripped open by paper and pen, rising to a new destination
A Destroyer begging to be free in search of a tender rhapsody
Blind by mediocre poets who tend a false nebulous star
No longer, will I impart into defeat - give in to trophy trust
The time of age, my allies whom I call my friends
You are more than words on any God-Given-Day
To those unworthy of me, can march away from my parade
Crying wolves, backstabbing clones, long gone stones
Each file is forgiven & forgotten, however, still trespassing
Under a microscope, some remain to be a decade of lost words
Grazing a forest grown for old news dripping water on my belly
No matter, after starvation, I found my way back to the same horizon
Finding time and space among a new docile nation
A buried treasure finding face among a fresh myriad generation
With anchors up, I'm headed full force, against every secret endorsed
I am the one you should not fear, I relish this wonderful community
I am she mounted above all years worn rising like a newborn sword
Forged by the earth summon by the pirate's moon political creed
Ascending to a sweet ascension with the best kind of immunity
With paper and pen, I sit to please and prosper my poetry need
To you I leave --- Echoes of snow, numbing you with a poetic soul
Love The Poet Destroyer
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
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Voice Poem
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Hiding here inside my closet, I feel safe in the dark
knowing on a pile of sheets lies my very psyche;
it's only a thought, yet I am unhurt among drawers…
so I curl and stare blank, imbibing bits of gentle
murmurings that whisper on hangers as they
sway with the lint...I strain to listen
but prickly voices rush out of reach
from the sleeves of a night
like a conversation behind closed doors…
I hear yet can't quite grasp
what my heart wants to say in low dips ;
like a tremolo carrying mould of twilight...
it chants all sermons of a Sunday church bell
speaking in tongues I knew once...long ago.
The moon slices the folds around me in black suds
washing a laundry of venting desire, only to find myself
trapped in pins…I feel a stab, a grating chill: perhaps,
I have no language when no one wants to listen.
Maytime Premiere Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014
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Voice Poem
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~ Yolanda was--her name ~ Featuring:) Leonora Galinta
From a hell storm,
A mighty she-devil took on its form
Like a woman scorn ascending from the sea
Haiyan whipped across the central Philippines,
A deadly typhoon, maximum winds of around 315
Terrorizing the fragile mind before making landfall
Hitting with the center eye off from her hostility
A merciless turbulence that came and changed everything
Like a Massive Storm
She comes in as the wise thief of the day and night,
In her notorious gust of rage roars in disguise of thunder,
With the company of her own knight of darkness,
Raze all in a blast of waves wherever her path crosses,
Ruining one of the cities down to a devastation in the land
“Pearl of the Orient Seas.”
A mighty tempest in a woman’s name…. Yet,
A disgrace with more than an immortal man in strength,
Nature devouring nature itself
Including her stewards and stewardesses
An unmerciful encroachment, robbing, killing adults and children.
Yolanda, so cruel in her evil walloping!
A guest left smiling,
Engraving echoes of tears, from every single mourn
Vain, wicked, and colorless -no other air’s compare
The lives she stole, one heart at a time
Pouring down the most nauseating rain,
The pain is dissenting with everyone-- everywhere.
The bully of wind, invading sands of serenity
Unknowingly, far beyond your back----------------------------
Everybody will be summoning up more than your strength-
:)
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
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Voice Poem
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Introducing: Casarah Nance & Poet Destroyer
Scars of empty promises are darkened by your kiss.
Torturous touches are meant to soothe my pain.
It is without gain, without pleasure, beyond measure,
You are the puppet master, strung on dark days, a haze.
Specter of solitude, you confine me with your magnitude,
What purpose do I serve, is slavery what I deserve?
Tell me your intention, sate me with your perfection.
Shed a light into this soul starved sanctuary,
Come, whisper your words in my ear, complete me…
A sweet surrender to your call, a will of solitude
I lead the way, cutting strings attached to the light
Touching every breathing strand stressing yesterday
Giving you room to fall into my designated despair,
Adding, to your creeping gloom, I give and lend pouring pain,
the kind of pain, that begs for blades
Abhorring the taste of life, your flesh empowers my darkness
My intentions are nothing more, than a shadow bearing strength,
Smiling at your tears, caressing your lips,
Taking from the closure your soul seeks tonight
Blind! You will become to the misery, in this barren place
The pain of rigor mortise will blend against your pale skin
A slave without shackles,
I concur with pleasure to feed the hunger, you give
Forever, I am DARKNESS
~A Poet Destroyer collaboration~
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
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Voice Poem
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*GRANDMA WAITS IN THE GARDEN*
Hi, grandpa, it's me again!
Your dentures sit in an open glass above the nightstand
Remember the tears grandma sang before she passed?
The way she looked into your eyes,
Moments before she said her goodbyes
Grandpa, I found a note from grandma,
She waits for you.
Hi grandpa, it’s me again!
The rocking chair is old and dusty
Remember the way grandma sat me on her lap?
Read many stories before I took a nap
How she enjoyed stroking my hair with her hands
I miss the way she rocked me to sleep every night
Hello, grandpa!
I stored your hearing aid away
Remember that special musical box in grandma's drawer?
I opened it last night, to watch the ballerina soar
I wish you could hear the tiny chimes grandma loved
I hope you don’t mind, I’m keeping grandma's favorite scarf
Hello, Grandpa!
I'm caressing grandma’s picture frame
Remember the way she looked in the yellow pretty sundress?
Grandpa, I miss the things grandmother did for you
Like the walking cane, she handcrafted before she left
Hello, grandpa, it's me again!
Here I sit holding your hand
I have no more tears
Soon you will see her again
She will no longer be alone
Say hi to her, give her a kiss
Tell her I miss her so much
Bye, grandpa
~*~
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
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Voice Poem
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Twas a full moon shining on a cool summer night
And hound dogs were howling at its silver shadowed light.
I heard but a whisper on the cool evening breeze,
Twas the voice of a woman I used to chase and tease.
Our love was forever, at least I used to think it so.
Then came the day she left me; I wondered, where’d she go?
If true love lasts forever, was this love not for me?
I heard an answer on the wind - Son, your true love is she.
A true love will always linger in the shadows of your heart
Even when the one you love has chosen to depart.
True love is the love you gave, no matter what the cost
It will return to you again, for it is never lost.
Like a full moon shining on a cool summer night
With placid waters glistening in its silver shadowed light
Love comes like a whisper on a cool evening breeze
A gentle touch, a soft caress, a rustle in the trees.
There is no bitterness in the past, if your love was true
The sweetness in the memory is true love’s gift to you
A rising sun or new full moon is not a memory
And so will love come once again, if you let it be.
Twas a full moon shining on a cool summer night
And hound dogs were howling at its silver shadowed light
I heard but a whisper on the cool evening breeze,
Twas the voice of love’s song...answering my pleas.
11-17-12
*An excellent collab,with
John Wulf & Dan Kearley*
Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2012
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Voice Poem
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When I awoke, a woman I'd become
The spirit of many, contained in one
Strength and beauty, mystical tears
Magical entity, who hated mirrors
Looking at reflection, I seen my flaws
Yet in the background, I heard applause
Others seen me, with much different eyes
I listened too their voices, discarded my lies
The blood of creation, flowing in my veins
A brave warrior, a vision with brains
Nurture and strength, complicated friend
Passion personified, a master of pretend
Layers of lovely, deeper than a well
If you love me, I have a secret to tell
Loyal and fierce, sometimes hiding my face
Push me to far, I'll be gone without a trace
My day has ended, time to go to bed
Still words unspoken need to be said
Yet in the end I turn back into a man
Enriched by women, I am who I am
For Women Only Contest 2
By: Richard Lamoureux
Perhaps you will allow me to be an honorary woman
Either way I enjoyed writing this poem. Thanks for the inspiration.
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014
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Voice Poem
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Security Blanket
No chance of rain tonight,
No bogeyman, when I turn off the lights.
A phrase I found and adore with the warmth of your security.
You are the reason I attain true maturity.
I love when you lay down next to me,
Like the high tide of the sea,
You move all the warm emotions inside.
My arms are the comfort you use to seek and hide.
Your nestle holds a true rhythm that hums its own song~
Nothing comes close to breaking this precious bond~
A sweet cradle-song only I hear,
You play my grin, without the strings of a puppeteer.
My heartbeat needs its fix and drug,
Your sweet, charming smiles and hug,
Is all I need to succeed,
You are, my only creed!
A kiss, I give on your forehead,
Into a poet’s world where your blanket a dulcet lullaby,
my arms are your bed.
“Goodnight Sweet Child, Sweet Child of Mine!”
By; pd
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
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Voice Poem
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Finally
Doctor, it's been 7 months
The MEDs aren't kicking in
My dreams are getting stronger,
The blood remains to run code red
It's getting harder and harder to get out of bed
Dark images keep taking place inside my head
The voices - The voices, are not all right!
I no longer lay laughing
The screaming never stops
In irons, my mind rattles
Theses thoughts are all I got
In slow motion, my mind plans the perfect plot
Finally, I realize the sanity of this is perfect
Counting every single second on the clock
At first, I could not breathe
I felt, I was left alone,
Broken down --- Incomplete
In your eyes, the schizophrenia spoke loud
In my eyes, everything is dark and gray
Doctor, now listen closely, open your eyes
While the walls slowly close in on you
I have my hands around your neck
Finally, I feel my arms, the needles are gone
Finally, I realize the sanity of this is perfect
The tightening of the chest is clearing
Today I possess a little more than yesterday
Knowing exactly what needs to be done.
DOC YOU AREN'T LISTENING!
Was it all for nothing, the bloody wrist?
The faucet constantly dripping every night
The voices I call my friends
Deep, deep down,
I'm still a child, painting bedroom walls
Setting fires after my mother's death
A crazy peril in its most threatening state
Doc, here you are again,
No longer will I allow you to waste my time
With your fetish lies, trying to make me better
The problem is not me, it was always you!
Painting pink butterflies and white skies
Finally, I realize the sanity of this is perfect
Don't you understand she's dead!
Pills aren't going to bring her back
Padded rooms aren't going to help me,
Help myself --- grieve the proper way!
Straitjackets aren't going to restrain me,
--- from wanting to hurt badly!
Psychologically, I'm perfectly sane
Expressing my emotions a different way.
Doctor, you're not saying nothing
You're not moving,
You're just sitting there pretending to care.
Doc, I hope you aren't mad?
The voices explained it had to end this way
How else could I make you listen?
Finally, the impulse is gone
Finally, I'm going to be alright
by: Pd
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
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Voice Poem
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Know Thyself
(one of the two Delphic commands of Apollo)
For years before the narrow windows of my senses
I stood,
Trying to pierce the nebulous world of outer reality,
Hoping to find GOD,
One year was following the other but I was:
Still wondering,
Still inquiring,
Still demanding.
I was lost in the tenebrous world of materiality’s
Phenomena,
While the true essence of things, evasive
As ever,
Persistently escaped the grasp of my confused
Perception,
Unable to see behind the impenetrable veil
Of Isis,
And disappointed with reason’s constant
Failure,
My impatient voice towards the starry heavens I lifted,
Asking aloud:
Where are Thee, oh LORD?
For I have been seeking for Thee so many years now,
But I have found Thee not!
I have kept my eyes wide-open in order to see,
As many colors of Thy creation as possible,
And not even for a moment have I shut them,
For fear I missed Thy resplendent light,
But I saw Thee not!
I have kept my ears wide-open in order to hear
As many sounds of Thy creation as possible,
And not even for a second have I covered them up
For fear I missed Thy sacred voice,
But I heard Thee not!
I have kept my hands extended in order to touch
As many things of Thy creation as possible
And not even for a minute have I held them back,
For fear I missed Thy spiritual touch
But I touched Thee not!
I have kept my nostrils wide-open in order to scent
As many perfumes of Thy creation as possible
And not even for an instant have I held my breath
For fear I missed Thy holy aroma
But I scent Thee not!
I have become a famed gourmet in order to taste
As many delicacies of Thy creation as possible
And not even for an hour have I withheld my appetite
For fear I missed Thy heavenly feast
But I tasted Thee not!
WHY?
Then, the thunderous voice of the Lord,
Coming deep down from the twilight of time,
Tearing the eternal heavens apart
Answered me and said:
Dear innocent child of Mine; hasn’t time taught you,
That I am neither to be seen by eyes
Nor to be heard by ears?
That I am not to be touched by hands
Nor to be scent by nostrils?
That I am not to be tasted by palates
But I am only to be felt by enraptured hearts?
Trembling and puzzled, in a shaky timid voice,
I dared ask:
How could this be done, oh Lord?
For I am so weak and ignorant, I do not know
The way
And the compassionate voice of the Lord answered me
And said:
Don’t call yourself weak and ignorant for
I have endowed you with power and knowledge
So great,
You have only to unearth this incalculable treasure
Hidden deep down in your soul and you will be
In touch with Me, with eternity, with the universal law,
With the light, with the truth and every single existence,
But first you have to listen carefully to what I command:
Close your eyes for they cannot see Me
And cover your ears for they cannot hear Me
Pull back your hands for they cannot touch Me
And hold your breath for it cannot scent Me
Shut your mouth for it cannot taste me
And stand completely still in order for you
To sense Me
At once I rushed to Obey His divine command, so:
I closed my eyes and saw no more
And covered my ears and heard no more
I pull back my hands and touched no more
And held my breath and scent no more
I shut my mouth and tasted no more
And stood dead still for a moment,
Just for a moment alone!
And BEHOLD:
I felt His ethereal presence enveloping my heart
And I saw His celestial light caressing my mind
And I heard His heavenly voice calling to my spirit
And I touched His angelic essence with my elated thought
And I scent His seraphic aroma with my sacred, now, breath
And I tasted His rapturous divinity with my blissful soul.
Then, immendiatly, the gates of revelation opened their
Passages wide
And in a magnificent lofty parade, in front of my soul’s
Dazzled eyes
The mysteries of life, one by one, were unveiled to the last
Thus making everything known.
And now my enraptured self, jubilant before the eternal truth,
In ecstasy exclaims:
Thank you, oh Lord for showing me Thy blessed Essence,
Thank Thee, for I know Thee now!
And the Lord enigmatically smiled at me and with His
Divine thought tenderly declared:
No my loving child, you only know YOURSELF!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2012
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Voice Poem
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The moss clung tightly; making it unbearable to breathe,
and she sealed her lips tighter than a clam’s— not letting the pain take over
As the stars drift silently, like ships on a lost sea of darkness,
she whispers to Hope:
“Swim free and look for the horizon, then come back to me...”
The night; collected on the leaves,
drops fell like Mermaid’s milk onto an already moist floor
Striking the shimmering tearful medium,
it gives birth to a shower of graceful pearls as the dawn awaits
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hear your voice drift upon a cool ocean breeze;
gilded words of adoration
I glide towards it, praying that it guides me,
strengthens me,
nurtures me
like Mermaid’s milk
Touch as I might, my senses are in-different to please, my voice mute!
Be my Siren’s song and sing for me, serenade my senses back to life...
With an inquisitive tongue, I taste an almost scentless flower
It is but a wisp, a whisper, a flick of a ray of sunshine, but it was There.
So much is lost.
The rivulets of time, hear me, see me, like a ghostly apparition...
Capture me in that moment by lovingly painting me.
Sing me a song while you do,
and let the Mermaid’s milk flow again.
*****
Thank you David, for waiting ever so patiently for my long overdue part--
it was a very nice challenge for me to write this :)
Thank you very much for the inspiring lines...
Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2012
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Voice Poem
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The deck of cards
Flies away in the wind
Leaving those alone
Playing solitaire
I see the pain written on faces
I feel humanities disgraces
I can not play this lonely game
I run and hide from solitary fame
In the window, you see me over there?
I am not cold or in despair
I have a meal and more to spare
I hide from musical encounters, beggars too
I feel such pain
I feel the tears
Of that lonely man
He with no teeth, in sleet and rain
Me even worse off, heartless and slain
Solitaire is indeed a lonely game
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016
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Voice Poem
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He is the voice inside your heart
the one that makes you care
the voice that cries at injustices
when life becomes unfair
He is compassion deep within
that stirs and makes you feel
the hurt and pain and helplessness
of the suffering and grieved
He is your comfort in sadness felt
when you try to understand
the senseless emphasis on things
of insignificance to man
He is the love no one can cloak
the tears of joy you shed
the water that connects the souls
of both the living and the dead
He is the force that shielded you
that kept you safe from falling
the guide that won't leave you alone
until you hear his voice that's calling
The voice that says he's engraved inside
your heart and soul and mind
and he'll bring to you remembrances
if you but want to seek, you'll find
He is the voice you know exists
healing wounds of your life's story
The voice determined that you win
And be partaker of his glory
He is the peace who ends despair
the truth in you for cause to say
"My God! My God! I know you're here
for you shine to light the way
and blood once shed has cleansed my sins
my aged old mind has been set free
Father, I do glorify thy name
for grace that reconciles through Christ in me"
And thus it is, the voice of hope
that enables you to stand
His reach is to the very core
His wisdom..the rebirth of the soul of man..
Copyright © Diana Mohammed | Year Posted 2012
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Voice Poem
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The Duck That Lost His Quack
A Duck woke up late one day last week,
And all he could do was to squeak.
He looked everywhere and listened to different things,
Even heard sounds all around, from pings to zings.
For example, he tried many gates, stairs, and barn doors,
Then went and stepped on cracks in nearby creaky floors.
He visited several witches, doctors and some were both,
They prescribed everything from lemons to ginger troth.
In his travels, he came across a quaint woodshop,
Being so tired, he sat down with a solid plop.
A carpenter saw that the Duck was so very sad,
From behind the counter, he came to help the lad.
After hearing of the tale of a missing sound,
The carpenter leapt up with a double bound.
He said, “From within is where it comes,
Not outside, as most would sum.”
“I have made many instruments for music,
And what you need is something acoustic.”
He brought out a short board with a nail,
Then attached several metal strings to a pail.
The carpenter said, “Play away and listen to the sounds in your head.”
The Duck strummed everything from Enya to the Grateful Dead.
After a fashion, the Duck was soon lost in the tunes,
And started to dance and sing like a midnight Lune.
Who knew that this Duck had a knack,
And in the middle of it all started to quack.
So you see, it’s not external to what you seek,
In many cases, its internal and who you meet.
Written by Michael Eastman, 8-25-2015,
This, after listening to Bubbles the Mouse speak,
And hearing a long story composed of squeaks.
Copyright © Michael Eastman | Year Posted 2015
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Voice Poem
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"Please Allow Me to Speak for Him"
by: Eric L. Boddie
Strength is boundless within his words
In the hearts of many, he should be heard
Lent me his pen one time in the past
Even his dark stuff reveals the awesome skill he has
Nothing can destroy a heart that's really pure
The Answer Is Christ, The Only Known Cure
Once He Arrives, everything makes sense
Nothing but his pen can get that intense
Each selection I have read makes me more appreciate what his pen invents
Copyright © eric boddie | Year Posted 2015
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Voice Poem
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Picking up my phone, the voice recalls my memories
Sweet talker across the line, hey... it's been a while
Days running, things change, here we are aloof in our boundaries
Trapped within our history, now we play the role of our guile
The way you speak is like negating the past
Sweet talker across the line, hey... it's been a while
Hurting each other became the story of our last
The lampblack dwell beneath the wounds, torn by the pain that we cost
The way you speak is like negating the past
We tired in our drama, we trapped in our anger loft
Burnt by the old grudge, how can we fix this dust?
The lampblack dwell beneath the wounds, torn by the pain that we cost
Standing limp on the ruin of us
Now we are broken toys if you still want to play, it's up to you
Burnt by the old grudge, how can we fix this dust?
Still in the past memory I flew
Now we are broken toys if you still want to play, it's up to you
Picking up my phone, the voice recalls my memories
Days running, things change, here we are aloof in our boundaries
Copyright © Yanny Widjanarko | Year Posted 2013
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Voice Poem
|
A cold wind blows,
turning hardened walls to sand.
Breaking down the barriers
exposing the emotions that were held inside.
The pain builds,
from hurts buried deep within.
Storm clouds roll in
dark, cold, and threatening.
Thunder rumbles,
roars across the darkened land.
A voice breaking the spirit:
Stupid
Ugly
Hated
Harlot
Die...
the words echo through the ears.
Lightning flashes,
shattering the very heavens.
Words drift through the mind:
Unwanted
Nothing
No-one
Useless
Alone...
casting shadows of doubt through the soul.
The tears fall from the eyes,
from a heart broken and battered.
Rain pours down from above
overflowing, unable to be contained.
Then finally as the rage is spent,
a calm stillness overtakes the cleansed world.
In the arms of a friend
peace is found once again.
And a voice whispers to the night:
"I'm alright..."
Copyright © Jennifer King | Year Posted 2010
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Voice Poem
|
He is the voice inside your heart
the one that makes you care
the voice that cries at injustices
when life becomes unfair
He is compassion deep within
that stirs and makes you feel
the hurt and pain and helplessness
of the suffering and grieved
He is your comfort in sadness felt
when you try to understand
the senseless emphasis on things
of insignificance to man
He is the love no one can cloak
the tears of joy you shed
the water that connects the souls
of both the living and the dead
He is the force that shielded you
that kept you safe from falling
the guide that won't leave you alone
until you hear his voice that's calling
The voice that says he's engraved inside
your heart and soul and mind
and he'll bring to you remembrances
if you but want to seek, you'll find
He is the voice you know exists
healing wounds of your life's story
The voice determined that you win
And be partaker of his glory
He is the peace who ends despair
the truth in you for cause to say
"My God! My God! I know you're here
for you shine to light the way
and blood once shed has cleansed my sins
My aged old mind has been set free
Father I do glorify thy name
for grace that reconciles through Christ in me"
And thus it is..the voice of hope
that enables you to stand
His reach is to the very core
His wisdom..the rebirth of the soul of man...
Copyright © Diana Mohammed | Year Posted 2012
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Details |
Voice Poem
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I am sitting in the dark, silently.
Sipping a drink as I did many times in the past.
Only now I am blushing, for my skin
has never been caressed with such deep voice before.
Those gentle vibes are dancing all over my body
and I cannot help but shiver.
Finally I surrender and let that sound please me.
Your warm whisper floating across the room
stops at my table and rests on my ears.
A muffled groan comes out of my mouth.
Suddenly I feel speechless, naked…
Covered only with your words,
which suit me perfectly.
The room is fulfilled with applause,
brighten by lights escaping through the window
as I walk away.
I left my glass slipper on the table
with a bitter- sweet lipstick mark on it.
Copyright © Danka Sikorska | Year Posted 2014
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Voice Poem
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Your eyes flame of fascination
and I feel unworthy to be looked upon
by a goddess. Then your lips twirl as your voice
begins to play “Good Morning.” A beloved song, always composing
a smile to my mornings and reminding me that I’m truly blessed.
After the record fades we lay comfortably in its evanescence.
Awaiting nothing, simply lost in the presence of love. My fingers leisurely
trace tender curves and turns of God’s greatest works as your warmth welcomes
me closer. Your hands blindly search for mine and the fissures are filled as our hands
fasten. Then your voice begins to play, “I Love You” and I repeat trying my best to
stay in tune. We whisper acapella as our bodies begin to compose a beat through passion.
A tenor soprano duo at its best. You’re my favorite song.
Copyright © james faulkner | Year Posted 2009
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Voice Poem
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It took on a life of its own,
the writing.
Wanting a voice to speak
of the way it had been,
was and would be,
all the yesterdays,
the now and tomorrow.
Like nature,
like god eternal.
A voice so powerful
the world would listen
and talk of this writing.
The sublime craft of it
discussed by all
who knew such things.
But, in the end,
no one read that he was dead,
the writing ended,
the voice stilled
in a forever place ... and fame,
that fleeting human need ... ?
Words remembered, written on a page
with a life of their own, its all
the lasting fame ever known.
Copyright © Sue Mason | Year Posted 2010
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Voice Poem
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DESOLATION
The orange dusk of light comes to me into the night
Oh, how it gives me so much fright
but I still stand up for what is right
where old idea come back to my mind
I gaze to see what is in front of me,
Oh, how the memories kept flowing
while I write out on many pages of dreams
I know things are never what they seem
I see a messenger walking in the mist of the light
the announcement was very swift
the invisible always is,
the stories are told and the words gone old
but I still stood bold to a world that is cold,
I looked evil in the eyes
where the lies tell its own stories
I seen the lost running in the heat of the night
on this month of July
crying out I don't want to be found
while they danced around,
I see how they danced on bones that clutched at their feet
where their hateful words sound out through the darkness
I see a small church burn down
where railroad where once busy
but now things are desolated
I see a a rose burn to dust
where the dead lay,
Oh, how the dawn breaks
and now I wake on my bed
Now my mind is clear holding no fear
the prophets of my dreams sunk in deep
my words are written in a world of the forbidden.
Poetic Judy Emery (c) 2017 7.10.2017
Copyright © Judy Emery | Year Posted 2017
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Voice Poem
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Dear men,
Explain to me why I stand alone.
Women are quick to uplift their father, sons, and brothers
Quick to maintain the home,
But when she needs support,
A woman stands alone
Explain to me why a woman has to stay in her “place”
Is there no room for a woman who is more than a pretty face?
Is there no room for a woman who can stimulate you intellectually
Or is it a woman’s only duty to please you sexually?
Explain to me why beating a woman gives you power
It gives you strength
Is masculinity so fragile
That you can’t maintain?
Without getting pleasure from pain
Explain to me why your brother goes scott free
When he takes advantage of a woman
While she is left to be ridiculed, blamed
As society throws dirt on her name
And she falls victim to her own demise.
I despise
The men who are so oblivious to their own privilege
That they think patriarchy is normal
Excuse my language
As I speak a bit informal
For you to understand
That you cannot catcall me as I walk down the street
It’s disgusting and demeaning
No I am not obligated to give you my number
Just because you ask and think you are getting a pass at me
No I don’t need you to hold the door open or carry my groceries
I am a strong, independent woman and your belief that I am weak
Is insulting
No I do not have to give you my body just because you bought me a drink
My body belongs to me
No matter what you tell yourself or think
Dear men,
You can no longer say that you are ignorant to my issues or my demands
Because I have clearly listed it for you to see.
Now only a real man
Will know, that women deserve equity
Copyright © Kapree Tripp | Year Posted 2017
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