Voices Network

Presents the Poetry of

Listener

On occasion, we choose a poet who is a regular and talented contributor to our VoicesNet Poetry Forum and offer them a web page for three of their most precious writings. They are also offered the opportunity to choose the illustrations used here on this page. They are not charged for posting their work on this select page, nor are they paid in any spendable currency, although it would be great if they could be, for they certainly should be.

 

Profile of Poet Listener

 

Listener's poetry and postings have a calmness about them and have been around VoicesNet since early in its history in 2002.

Listener (real name Neil though he much prefers his 'nick' to his real name), is 35 and live in Surrey in the United Kingdom (that's just south of London) and has two gorgeous children. They are the most important people in the world to him, and he gets no greater pleasure than sharing simple things with them; a look, a smile, the abandoned joy of a child playing......he tries to emulate their way of seeing the world and its pleasure and simplicity ....it keeps him sane.

Divorced from their mother, he has now found a soul mate in his life.

Music is one of his top passions. Though he can't play or sing, he does get huge amounts of pleasure from listening to all types of music and especially from lyrics.

In 2002, Listener discovered an ability to begin describing his thoughts and feelings in his own words ......in his poetry, and he gets a huge satisfaction from that.

Listener has his own blog site at www.brandnewstart.net where you can follow his online journal and poetry.

Travel is another passion for Listener. He has been to Bangkok, Hong Kong, Tokyo, Zurich, and Mauritius, plus Australia, Cuba, Prague, Thailand, Singapore, the States and Greece. He has also spent several months in both Bangladesh and the Isle of Man.

Listener, due to his technical savvy, is also helping with the VoicesNet Link Exchange program and is currently re-designing the link exchange web pages here at the site. Additionally, in this role, he will be working with our International Poetry Ambassadors in different international outreach ways. He is also a writer and editor on the Visions Literary Journal, and also is a moderator in our Poetry Forums.

Listener, we all appreciate your smooth poetry style and also your efforts here at the site and you very much deserve to become a poet in residence at VoicesNet.com. Congratulations.

Sincerely!

JJ Namcap - Voices Network

Didn't We?

We lit up the sky didn't we?

Like the dawn's caress releasing night's grip
Chasing the fears and whispering of hope
Or distant guns reigning orange-burst fire
Onto out of sight, over the horizon enemies

Sensual and devastating
We were often one or the other
And rarely in between
Too long looking to discover
To care what might have been

We soared for a while didn't we?

Like swallows going south at summer's end
Fleet, graceful, immune to our path's dangers
Or like a firework, rushing headlong high
Before exploding in a brief yet glorious end

Sensual and devastating
We were often one or the other
And rarely in between
Too caught up in a moment
To care what might have been

We burnt brightly didn't we?

Like candlelight intense at point of contact
Yet flickering shadow-soft from afar
Or a raging, wind driven forest fire
Out of control and finally out of ways to turn

Sensual and devastating
We were often one or the other
And too rarely in between
Too close and yet too distant
To care what might have been

Copyright 2003

 

 

 

 

 

U2 Rattle and Hum
U2 Rattle and Hum
Buy This Photo At AllPosters.com

 

 

 

 

A Walk in the Moonlight

Many hours past
The sun had shed its solitary tear
Beyond some distant horizon
The ink black night lays ahead
Moon bereft and soulless
I owned nights like these
I lay claim to these long forsaken streets
Know them for what they were
Abandoned through fares to a better life
Deadends from briefly opened doorways
Havens from dreamtime and living
From the wanting something more
And the having it tomorrow
My shadow less footfall
Like tears ripped from my eyes
Mark out my time and my place
Irregular, unmeasured, staccato
Echoed by the jangle of glass on still air
From milk bottle drunk cats
My night, my streets, my homecoming parade
The ink black night lays ahead
Moon bereft and soulless
Honey, I'm home!

Copyright 2003

I Cast Stones

I cast stones onto the pond of my life
Some skim and skip across its surface
In brief balletic majesty
Their impact of contact diminishing
With each more frequent,
Less fervent caress
Others hit hard and fall fast
Their chaotic impact a disruption
That when all external trace subsides
Leaves change beneath the surface
And then occasionally one slips
Gentle and unbidden
Into the depths of my soul
Its touch ripples out ever wider
Not bounded by time or thought
Or the shores of my limitations

Copyright 2003