Posts tagged ‘sounds’

September 12, 2017

pleasant cricket sounds

as beautiful
and pleasant
as cricket’s may sound,
sometimes
they sound like
a broken in car
a few blocks down,
or my alarm clock
after hitting hard
the snooze
button, … so it’s
not so beautiful
or pleasant
or a treasure to take in,
you hear me?
but sometimes.

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March 29, 2016

beat of sound – day break sight

here a morning room
lack of light–
no present moon,
and the trash
man backs in & dumps
our leavings to
the sound of jazz
some bump -kerplunk-
from a warm wooden
floor, the leftovers
we had scouered
from the early night
before, and sure it
is beautiful, and
this now waking up
time is just mine.
all inside and
the just outside…
sound in my ears,
sight in my eyes.

July 3, 2015

new july

such sounds were reserved, ones that would wake you.
laying there in the morning, full day ahead. touching snooze

to gather more sleep, to gather better dreams. a door opens
and a dog begs for attention. little things like the early light,

the sound of soft feet on hardwood, a car coming, then escaping.
such sounds were reserved for you. wake to unfamiliar familiar.

same as always, touch a button. the coffee maker bubbles,
crickets still sing, birds chirping aloud, coming through

a cracked window in a dim room with the shades drawn.
sounds of a day that were reserved, open morning new july.

May 26, 2015

How the Rain Goes

How the rain goes.

The day the morning skies opened up,
rain came down in steady droplet form.

We know that feeling, the coming change,
or at least the animals do.

Around were deeper shades of green,
deep sepia trunks of trees, and veils of standing water.

There was no dry in the air, no dry in the heavens;
precipitation entered, and we are waiting for it to pass.

Bodies came wetted through,
going door to door so far away,
at any destination, at any time—covered.

It happens out of the clouds,
out of miracle,
out of nowhere,
out of thin air, out of life.

Miniature trails come sluiced as streams veined out,
their knotted design along sidewalks spread.

Now it is everywhere, on you dripping, on leaves, on outer matter, and on the ground.

It is soaking, seeping, as it follows gravity down—this life, new and old as one pooled.

Rain went sounding harder and harder,
pouring and pouring,
cats and dogs,
jazz crescendo, percussion,
high hat smashed, pit-pat pit-pat,
drumroll going, please,
brrrump brrrump,
to this bursting waterfall overflow,
busting through,
there was no escaping its element.

The day the morning skies opened up,
rain came down in steady droplet form,
and you were caught in between this transition of wet and dry,
not there, then alive,
then entrenched, then changed, just so.

How the rain goes.

December 23, 2014

Her Morning Alarm

Crickets wake me in the morning,
Even in the middle of white winter.

They chirp and buzz and shake
And vibrate and annoy and call-

Moments later my partner is slapping
Them hard to death, they die direct, -fast.

The next morning they come back to
Life as if nothing has happened at all.