Music,
from strict and logical Baroque,
to whimsical passionate Jazz,
voices,
from screeching streets
to dialogue of thought and hunger,
towns’ breathing
from morning yawns
to electricity of evening laughter,
the wheeze
of changing wind,
the rap of melted snow,
the thunder,
the cries of newborn foxes,
the acorns’ clatter on the forest floor,
the noise
around me when I wake up -
illegible mix of chirping,
snoring, neighbors' chat,
and resonant thud of the past.
I wonder
which one I’ll hear the last
and how attached I will be to that sound.
Comments
sounds keep coming all the time
there is no last
the sounds alone last
all others get marched past
so will you also
no one knows
nor will you
A L S O
Okay
Okay
I think
u did not like my comment so I shall remove it Iriz
I didn't have a chance to
I didn't have a chance to read it. Sorry.
Hi friend IRiz
to me this poem has a reflective tone and is about "where / with whom will I be" ....sound is only an audible/comprehensible link used to connect with the soundless state
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I like your interpretation,
I like your interpretation, at this point the poem is in the hands of redears:):):)
good to know you liked my
good to know you liked my perception...i am sure there would be more from others and will follow them curiously also with an academic interest of a student...
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Thanks again
Thanks again
I like the way you start each
I like the way you start each stanza with just a word, something to frame what comes after. and although it pales in comparison to the whole poem, just the first words can be read as a poem as well. an interesting thought to conclude: "i wonder which one i will hear last and how i'll be attached to that sound." like a good poem, it makes you think about the world through the senses. what sounds do i attach to in my day. it also made me think, hear last? like the last sound before the poet dies? what ushers you out of this life? a little morbid. but we all wonder where we'll be at the time of our death, what the finale will be like. nice poem.
Hi Gregwa8,
Hi Gregwa8,
I really like your comment, thank you so much.
Yes that was exactly my goal and question, only I don't feel it is morbid. It is normal to wonder how we going to take the last moment. Thanks again!
I like the intent...
and certainly, the thought has crossed my mind of and about my last moments on this earth, but never have I thought about what the last sound I might hear might be and how I might be attached to it. This is a thought provoking piece of work. Nice! ~ Geezer.
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I like it very much, it is a
I like it very much, it is a strong and original poem.
I do have some personal observations:
it started static for me. The other stanzas all started with two words which gave a better feel for flow than the single words which started stanzas one and two. Perhaps they do not have to stand alone to stand out.
Line three was of such fluid beauty, "to whimsical passionate Jazz," that line six seemed a poor cousin. From this point I only experienced beauty.
"the acorns’ clatter on the forest floor" this really came with light, I really opened to it!.
the philosophical puzzle at the end is also very nice.
,
Thank you, Tyro.
Thank you, Tyro.
I was shocked to learn that one of my acquaintances is deaf, and I started thinking what is sound to me and then automatically what would be the last one I hear. The straight forward assumption is that I imply the last sound before death but it doesn't have to be.
The sixth line the dialogue of thought and hunger refers to the sonnet 45 of Shakespeare as an antithesis to street noise and small talks. I think it is one of the oldest contemplating topics on the planet. Thank you for your time and for sharing your thoughts