Long Music to my ears Poems
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my first trip to Nevada
drove a car out of town
destination Avi in the Mojave
just the sound of it was music to my ears
I remembered a movie I loved
and that’s where it was set
Mojave… Mojave…
sign showing powwow underway
what incredible luck
the car had barely stopped
I was out and gone
drawn by the drumming afar
making my way through the sand
part way there at my feet
as if beckoning
just there like an offering
a big sandwashed oval stone
perfectly soft
breathtakingly beautiful
incredibly… there waiting for me
nothing like it anywhere in sight
nothing anywhere
bar drumming in the distance
and this one lone treasure
so I picked it
like a lovely ripe fruit
fresh from the Mojave desert
AP: 2nd place, Honorable Mention 2021
After sharing a bed for over fifty years
I've grown accustomed to sleeping by your side,
together, we've shared both smiles and tears.
You're my soulmate, with exclusive access to my heart,
and I'm at my happiest, just lying next to you,
we've never slept apart.
The best part of my day is sleeping with you at night,
yet, there are times when your breathing gets so shallow
I fear you've died, and I discreetly check if you're all right.
I'll reach over and ever so gently poke you
until you react, and when you do, I'm so relieved;
for my greatest fear hasn't come true.
Love has kept us together, for many happy years,
and every night before I sleep, I listen for your snore,
a reassuring purring; that's like music to my ears.
My love, you have got me on the tip of your fingers,
I'm hanging from your cobwebs.
Your giggle is a music to my ears as your legs pierce my skin tearing from bone to bone, limb to limb.
I'm just one of your devotees, yet I don't stop to wonder how many more are there.
I let you puppeteer as that was your wish.
I have not even one regret, I don't need to think twice before selling my soul to your gaze.
You control better than I do my own life.
I need not to think twice as I am a good devote, I beg for your feather light touch despite it burning like acid through my skin and scorching my flesh for the next meal.
I do not fret, it hurts and burns yet if it means I get to hold your gaze for a second longer, feel your touch for a moment.
I am in hell, yet it is my heaven that's what being a devotee to you means afterall.
I shall carry it with pride...
The snow patches are seen
They are spread out everywhere
I see the brown grass that has appears
All buds on the trees ready to grow
Everything is being reborn again
This is a welcomesite to see
All the birds that flew away
Have returned from the south
Home once again rebuilding nests
For the little ones to nestle in
And they will soon be born
In the early morning dawn
The mother bird will fly
Searching for their food
Filling their bellies full Then they will sleep
To be hungry in the dawn
Chirpy loudly to be fed
That is the sign of Spring
All the birds are singing songs
It happens at the crack of dawn
What a joyu it is to hear
It is music to my ears
To the songs of all the birds
To listen to the songs of birds
Over the years watching Deborah bake cookies with our children and grandchildren
has always been a treat…
because after they do all the work…I get all the cookies I can eat.
Her cookies have been eaten in our house and on the beginning of many a trip
and I think I speak for the family when I say our favorite cookie is chocolate chip.
They’re made with peanut butter, chocolate chips, a cake mix
and on a cookie sheet are formed
and they melt in your mouth if you’re lucky enough to eat them when they’re warm.
Cooking with Nana is easy…there’s no pressure…no strain…no stress
In Nana’s kitchen you’re supposed to have fun…and it’s okay to make a mess.
The other day I appreciated all the baking lessons Nana ever taught her
when I had occasion to bake chocolate chip cookies with Ava…our granddaughter.
Somewhere in the baking process…while watching Ava working with the dough
I began to understand why Nana loves it so.
When I saw our smiles mirrored in the oven window
while her chocolate chip cookies were baking
I realized the cookies weren’t as important as the memory we were making.
The cookies, although essential to the process, are actually secondary
The time we spent together is the memory we’ll carry.
When Ava said, “These taste just like Nana’s.” It was music to my ears…
and if I was a sentimental fellow I might have shed some tears…
Thinking how Ava learned Nana’s lessons well
She made sure we had fun
she was messy…not very neat…
and most importantly…
she did all the work
and I got all the cookies I could to eat.
Yes…I would have shed a few tears thinking how this memory turned out great…
If I wasn’t so busy eating cookies…I stopped counting…after eight.
buddy holly oh boy could sing he penned lyrics fit for a king
elvis pelvis drew a crowd thats alright mama would be proud
johnny cash spent his time learning how to walk the line
and the beatles needed no help writing songs they felt about
the rolling stones still in action dealing out some satisfaction
the beegees knew how to leave ya with there saturday night fever
then the clash they want to know should you stay or should you go
because abbas hear and without a fuss they will sing to one of us
then the jacksons with there hair everyone knows they got to be there
as shawaddywaddy plays there stuff underneath the moon of love
the pistols there causing a seen down with society but god save the queen
now its all comming back to me filling my ears with a bohemian rhapsody
memories fading as you look back it could of been magic i guess your take that
There is nothing quite like receiving
Much needed good news. Any good news
Such sweet music to my ears!
We all know how good news feel...
Words can't describe the effect it has
On my spirit. It's infinitely liberating
Any good news does the trick for me
I feel like jumping for joy
Jumping high enough to touch the sky
It sounds good indeed...
Especially when doubtful
Of a favorable outcome
Plaguing worries swiftly drift away
Giving me some peace of mind
Suddenly, a bad day isn't so bad anymore
Good news; sweet music to my ears!
Music To My Ears Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Silent One (Winner: 2nd Place)
Date written and posted: 02/14/2019
2025.4.20
I was so excited. I was going on a trip,
All the way to New South Wales, Sydney.
Where I last visited in 2006.
This time, I wanted to climb,
On the Australia icon "Sydney Harbour bridge",
Stamped my feet around the Rocks square,
Then on the Sydney Opera House's steps.
I had a choice either up north
To Newcastle and Lake Macquarie,
Or down south to Jervis Bay.
I really longed for a holiday,
A relaxing and appointment free day.
Away from home Victoria, Melbourne,
Away from certain people and sad memories.
I just wanted to be free, even just a few day.
I was so happy with the news.
I danced around and fell down.
I woke up from my dream.
What even worse was there were realality promises,
To travel with me to Sydney by somebody,
Whom I thought I could trust,
After stood meup in the past.
The promises were, the Sydney's trip,
If it could not be during Easter Holidays,
Then it would be sometime in May.
Promised promises were made
Only for music to my ears.
They were never made to be fulfilled.
I could really see the true color of your face.
What amazed me was,
It did not take long at all,
Everything had come out in the wash.
It came out much early than I thought.
There was another saying in my language,
Paper can't cover fire.
You may pull the wools over my eyes,
But my brain still be able to decide.
What sort of person you were really like.
You did not stand the test of time.
I had wasted some much energy,
Dreaming of being with you as a travel companion.
No. You lied all these time,
Made me believe I could build my dream.
Sweet dream but not in reality.
I was in the park sitting on the bench reading a book when I was approached by an old man carrying a newspaper, he asked me if he could sit by my side to which I replied ''of course". After seconds of silence, he started blabbering on and on about random things in life, I started getting annoyed. I was clearly reading a book and didn't want to be disturbed and I couldn't muster the courage to tell him that.
So I just kept nodding my head and agreeing with whatever he had to say, to be honest, I wasn't paying attention to anything he was saying his words were in and out of focus,
I wondered how many hours can he talk without stop I wondered how many times did he brush his teeth I wondered if he had any other suit other than the one he was wearing. I wondered about his children about his family and his youth and how he spent it. I dared not to ask me such questions I respected his privacy and he violated mine, repeatedly.
I was enjoying the words flying out in the air, the sun, the trees, I was enjoying the view and nature, He was nothing but white noise in a symphony; a beautiful one I might add.
He noticed how silent I was then told me I need to be in therapy. Aghast by his comment I didn't understand why he said it, but I realized he wanted me to share something about myself, and when I refused to he got offended.
After a while, I excused myself to leave for brief moments and entrusted him with my backpack.
I walked few miles, I thought about how short life is, and how fleeting is the happiness we feel when we’re in love. I looked back at the old man; I took a deep breath then pressed the button on the remote control.
The sound of the explosion is music to my ears.
Oniape Fort. My dear, my beloved
Your voice is music to my ears
And your touch reaches into my very soul
When you sorrow I weep with bitter regret
When you are of good cheer I celebrate for all I know
So, with your beguiling song I am yours as sure as you are mine
For I know that I alone wield the keys to your heart
And thus together our loves does unite
My dear. My Oniape Fort.
When we present our love to the world
Our actions are in perfect harmony
Our heartstrings are tied as if one
Thrumming as to the rhythm of your melodious voice
And when the weather turns and you lose your hope
I right the wrongs and transform your sobs into song
My beloved. My Oniape Fort.