Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com - Read, Rate, Comment on, or Submit Poetry. Browse Poetry Forums, or just enjoy other parts of our poetic community.
One of the largest databases of poetry on the net, now over 198,500+ poems!
Welcome to Your Poetry Dot Com    Poems On Site: 198,500+   Comments On Poems: 427,000+   Forum Posts: 105,000+
Custom Search
  Welcome ! Home  ·  FAQ  ·  Topics  ·  Web Links  ·  Your Account  ·  Submit Poetry  ·  Top 30  ·  OldSite Link 02-June 11:39:26 AEST  
  Menu
  Home
· Micks Shop
· Our eBay Store· Error Submit
 Poetry
· Submit Poetry
· Least Read Poems
· Topics
· Members Listing
· Old Site Post 2001
· Old Site Pre 2001
· Poetry Archive
· Public Domain Poetry
 Stories
· Stories (NEW ! )
· Submit Story
· Story Topics
· Stories Archive
· Story Search
  Community
· Our Poetry Forums
· Our Arcade
100's of Games !

  Site Help
· FAQ
· Feedback

  Members Areas
· Your Account
· Members Journals
· Premium Sign-Up
  Premium Section
· Special Section
· Premium Poems
· Premium Submit
· Premium Search
· Premium Top
· Premium Archive
· Premium Topics
 Fun & Games

· Jokes
· Bubble Puzzle
· ConnectN
· Cross Word
· Cross Word Easy
· Drag Puzzle
· Word Hunt
 Reference
· Dictionary
· Dictionary (Rhyming)
· Site Updates
· Content
· Special Content
 Search
· Search
· Web Links
· All Links
 Top
· Top 30
  Help This Site
· Donations
 Others
· Recipes
· Moderators
Our Other Sites
· Embroidery Design Store
· Your Jokes
· Special Urls
· JM Embroideries
· Public Domain Poetry and Stories
· Diamond Dotz
· Cooking Info and Recipes
· Quoof - Australian Story

  Social

Array ( [sid] => 158996 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => STILL I LISTENED [time] => 2010-04-17 20:00:53 [hometext] => [bodytext] => One would not imagine a ringtone could instigate a divergence of emotions.

Peace and panic,
joy and jitters.

It was her, my novel love.

Limpid brown eyes, silken lips, sheening burnt umber skin, hourglass frame,
emcompassing her urban attitude.

She phoned to reminiscence our evening together.
Before long, we were conveying our lives' stories.
Joys and pains, mental annals of past relationships,
and narratives of family and friends.
We indulged each other as if the night would never end.

After some time, the pace of our conversation began to slow.
As I noticed, that in and out she would go.
For sleep had beseiged her, yet she tried to press.
Until finally, I heard the currents of air enter and exit her chest.

I thought to wake her and bid her goodnight.
Yet her steady, shallow, rhythmic breathing sang beguilingly,
compelling me to refrain.

Hence, still I listened.

Her breathing possessed a voice of it's own, speaking of her in an unconventional way.
As it whispered into my ear, it brought to mind her delivery day.
The first of countless breathes, filling and saturating her lungs.
Her first taste of, as well, her first stride toward independence had begun.
A replicated accomplishment, laboring itself,
awaiting to birth the essence of her being.

Inhaling, exhaling.
Inhaling, exhaling.
Persisting it's tale.

The sole provider of oxygen, which nourished each of her cells.
The true nucleus of her existence.
Manufacturing from within, all that she would be outwardly.
Contour, skin, hair, eyes, lips.
For the canvas would not illustrate the stroke of the artist's brush,
without the paint which was upon it's tip.

Affording her every occurrence and encounter,
likewise fueling the memory of,
fostering her nature through their interpretations.

Bearing witness to whom she was, and all she could be.
Assisting her in enduring her sorrow and tears.
Rejoicing with her in her laughter and happiness.
A constant companion,
until that day when they both would depart.

I thought to wake her and bid her goodnight.
Yet, still I listened. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 201 [topic] => 2 [informant] => DrcGaimer [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LovePoetry )
STILL I LISTENED

Contributed by DrcGaimer on Saturday, 17th April 2010 @ 08:00:53 PM in AEST
Topic: LovePoetry



One would not imagine a ringtone could instigate a divergence of emotions.

Peace and panic,
joy and jitters.

It was her, my novel love.

Limpid brown eyes, silken lips, sheening burnt umber skin, hourglass frame,
emcompassing her urban attitude.

She phoned to reminiscence our evening together.
Before long, we were conveying our lives' stories.
Joys and pains, mental annals of past relationships,
and narratives of family and friends.
We indulged each other as if the night would never end.

After some time, the pace of our conversation began to slow.
As I noticed, that in and out she would go.
For sleep had beseiged her, yet she tried to press.
Until finally, I heard the currents of air enter and exit her chest.

I thought to wake her and bid her goodnight.
Yet her steady, shallow, rhythmic breathing sang beguilingly,
compelling me to refrain.

Hence, still I listened.

Her breathing possessed a voice of it's own, speaking of her in an unconventional way.
As it whispered into my ear, it brought to mind her delivery day.
The first of countless breathes, filling and saturating her lungs.
Her first taste of, as well, her first stride toward independence had begun.
A replicated accomplishment, laboring itself,
awaiting to birth the essence of her being.

Inhaling, exhaling.
Inhaling, exhaling.
Persisting it's tale.

The sole provider of oxygen, which nourished each of her cells.
The true nucleus of her existence.
Manufacturing from within, all that she would be outwardly.
Contour, skin, hair, eyes, lips.
For the canvas would not illustrate the stroke of the artist's brush,
without the paint which was upon it's tip.

Affording her every occurrence and encounter,
likewise fueling the memory of,
fostering her nature through their interpretations.

Bearing witness to whom she was, and all she could be.
Assisting her in enduring her sorrow and tears.
Rejoicing with her in her laughter and happiness.
A constant companion,
until that day when they both would depart.

I thought to wake her and bid her goodnight.
Yet, still I listened.




Copyright © DrcGaimer ... [ 2010-04-17 20:00:53]
(Date/Time posted on site)





Advertisments:






Previous Posted Poem         | |         Next Posted Poem


 
Sorry, comments are no longer allowed for anonymous, please register for a free membership to access this feature and more
All comments are owned by the poster. Your Poetry Dot Com is not responsible for the content of any comment.
That said, if you find an offensive comment, please contact via the FeedBack Form with details, including poem title etc.
Re: STILL I LISTENED (User Rating: 1 )
by northernlights on Saturday, 17th April 2010 @ 10:30:31 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
A unique and original write,listening to and being reminded of that which we vitally need to stay alive, the detailed and meaningful life personal and warm that it has sustained, then the melancholy of when that no longer sustains that life,beautiful last two lines with so much depth of love and meaning


Re: STILL I LISTENED (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Sunday, 18th April 2010 @ 01:43:55 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
This poem and your experience brought back fond memories of times like this for me.

I used to love to hear her ringtone!!! Then, yes, we'd talk for hours until she usually pooped out and I would listen to her softly breathe as she slept on the other end and then I would eventually hang up or fall asleep too.

This is definitely one of those poems that I wished I had written. Goodness, gracious...love it!!!!

"I thought to wake her and bid her goodnight.
Yet, still I listened."


Yeah, no kidding. Perfectly done...at least in my opinion.

Thank you for sharing and thank you for bringing back a very similar memory for me.

Tim




While every care is taken to ensure the general sites content is family safe, our moderators cannot be in all places; all the time. Please report poetry and or comments that are in breach of our site rules HERE (Please include poem title or url). Parents also please ensure that you supervise your children well when they are on the internet; regardless of what a site says about being, or being considered, child-safe.

Poetry is much like a great photo, a single "moment in time" capturing many feelings and emotions. Yet, they are very alive; creating stirrings within the readers who form visual "pictures" of the expressed emotions within the Poem. ©

Opinions expressed in the poetry, comments, forums etc. on this site are not necessarily those of this site, its owners and/or operators; but of the individuals who post items to this site.
Frequently Asked Questions | | | Privacy Policy | | | Contact Webmaster

All submitted items are Copyright © to their submitter. All the rest Copyright © 2002-2050 by Your Poetry Dot Com

All logos and trademarks in this site are property of their respective owners.

Script Generation Time: 0.052 Seconds. - View our Site Map | .© your-poetry.com