Posts Tagged ‘whisper’

Why Can’t You Be Quiet: Revolutionary (Napkin) Free Verse Poem

May 7, 2015

I don’t understand
why those who want me to
wear their words
will stand
and talk loud
over my thoughts
that I bled onto
my paper.

Don’t i matter?
Maybe I’m old.
Maybe I was born
In a time
When my daddy
And mamma taught we kids,
Once young, too,
Like you,
To be polite,
To show respect
To others,
To listen
When it’s your turn to hear.

Just as I
Turned my gaze
To you
And listened to your lips
As they caress
The open mic.

I will listen
And did listen
To you
When it was your turn,
To speak your truths.

And now that
Its my voice
That should be heard,
You can hear.
Or u may leave
And converse outside.

Or,
If you’re here,
So others may hear,
U may kindly,
Politely,
Quietly
Shut the f*** up.

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Am I Also Guilty? Revolutionary ConTexting Haiku

April 13, 2014

The two women’s loud/
yacking makes me ask if my/
irreverence disturbs.

Can You Visit Elsewhere? Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku Lament

April 13, 2014

If we come to hear/
sacred music, and adults/
talk loud, should we move?

Talking About Talking: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

April 13, 2014

If I talk about/
Church being noisy, am I/
then also guilty?

Noisy Church Meeting: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku

April 13, 2014

I sat near the front./
It was still noisy. That’s just/
a Church condition.

Poetry In An Art Museum: Revolutionary ImproVerse Haiku

March 26, 2014

People can talk in/
Temples. *They may whisper or/
speak. It’s all worship.

OR
…*They may whisper, speak,/
sing. All is worship.

Music Manners Matter: Revolutionary ConTEXTing Haiku Lament

December 18, 2013

Why doest thou whisper /
when sweet heavenly music/
Demands* all silence?
OR
*commands

Why Whisper During Beautiful Music? Revolutionary Improv Haiku Lament

June 14, 2012

During beautiful/
music, why do folks loudy/
whisper their praises?

What Goes Around … : Revolutionary Poetic Lament

June 23, 2011

As youths,
we would laugh
and loudly whisper,
(when we thought
they couldn’t hear),
about physical oddities:

Mr. M’s errant
and grey
eyebrow hairs.

Mr. C’s gut
that stuck
out so much
you could balance
a martini glass
on it.

Uncle B’s bright white,
bra-less moobs that he showed,
shirtless,
in the summer sun.

Mr. B’s stick legs,
covered to mid-calf with
white socks that matched
his skin.

Mr. P’s back hairs
(we wondered if Mrs. P
brushed or combed them).

Mr. E’s chest hairs,
curling white against his
tan and leathered skin.

They are all dead.

Now I hear,
again,
youthful whispers
and laughs
from behind
my back.

Too Soon? Too Much? Or …? Romantic ConTEXTing Poetry

April 3, 2011

Sweet whispers./
A gentle touch./
Most women claim/
it’s 2 soon, 2 much./

But 2 she/
who dreams/
romantically/
it may seem/
2b/
much more.
It may b/
what she/
is looking 4.