Stories
He stomped
his foot to come
self through out of him -
his hand.
His voice
was loud and the
ear was
frightened
Now the
fire has gone
down.
Old stories
told again,
again
and again.
Poems on the topic: voice
Poems on the topic “voice” on Poets.by.
A Hundred Voices at Once
You hear this calling.A bird
again and again.
Again and again. What sign
can I give to myself?
What is the night, to such
a calling bird?
Again and again. I ask
to speak only to myself.
You hear this calling.A bird
again and again.
Again and again, Now I
listen to be hearing.
Again and again, The voice
falls off of me, found dumb.
You hear this calling. You hear
this calling Again and again.
Flat Description
I love you has been said before by somebody else.
Someone else could be me or it could be someone else.
I can speak in my own language without having my own voice.
The human animal recognizes her cry as her own and not her.
This is community.
How rooms are occupied and what is left afterwards
is a proper subject for the imagination.
No one will ever know, first hand,
if the scent spread by the lovers remains in the room
after they have walked away. Guessing is easy
but not knowing. We can't be where we aren't.
My thoughts of you do not produce you. I think they do.
How much of my own voice is my own imagination.
How much do I want to love you. How much do I.
* * *
The tree said
stay.
I stayed.
The tree said
go.
I went.
The tree said
come.
I come.
The tree said
Telephone Conversation
When we talk on the
telephone, we feel our
loss more heavily.
i stare at the
slits, the box that
sells her voice to
me.
i hold the phone
like a live thing, like
part of her. it holds
a sound i love.
yet i hate the
upright coffin, its
pimply walls,
the printed admonitions
lining it, for being
Phone Call
though the mocking wire
slew the greenness of your voice
The vibrant plastic
struck my ear crying
and if only this clay machine
owned me
Next the actual mouth of you
I'd have fled in your breath
frail as dandelion.
open-
They say I'm too closed off but close me off when I try to speak about anything
Mantra
She said
I spoke to you…while
ailing and delirious, and I remember
what I was saying,
but can’t recall hearing
the sound of your voice, nor feeling
an air of your presence – at all, at
the time, except
for a part
of an unfinished sentence, on
an obscure page of a much-unused diary,
where you wrote
that the discovery
of your life
had been
that you were wrong…
The Telephone
‘When I was just as far as I could walk
From here to-day,
There was an hour
All still
When leaning with my head against a flower
I heard you talk.
Don’t say I didn’t, for I heard you say--
You spoke from that flower on the window sill--
Do you remember what it was you said?’
‘First tell me what it was you thought you heard.’
‘Having found the flower and driven a bee away,
I leaned my head,
And holding by the stalk,
I listened and I thought I caught the word--
What was it? Did you call me by my name?
Or did you say--
Hokku 46
Speak not again, Voice!
The silence washes off sins
Come not again, Light!
Hokku 35
Song of sea in rain,
Voice of the sky, earth and men!
List, song of my heart.
One Voice
You were the princess of the fairy tale
Who spoke in emeralds instead of words,
Whose laughter left an exquisite, bright trail
Of sounds as winged and visible as birds.
I never knew until yours went from me,
That any voice could love my name so much,
That just to speak it made it seem to be
A fragrance and a color and a touch.
My days are gestures of bewilderment,
My nights are attitudes of listening.
For fear you may have whispered as you went,
And I shall lose the starlike echoing.
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