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I can hear
by Jamyah Johnson

I can hear wind blowing at my ears likes it’s trying to tell me a story.

The sound of cars grasping the road like there begging for a hug.

The sound of bees bumbling, and trees blowing while the wind blows threw them.

But the grass the grass is silent.

The radios are screaming like our mothers do when they’re angry.

Car alarms ringing like nuclear waves sounds.

I can hear pens gliding across papers like ice glaciers glide across the ocean.

The sound of my feet holding onto the ground like there begging for comfort.

And that, that sound of fidgeting, nervousness, the curiosity of the ones beside me.

What do you hear?

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Human Race
By Zora Vanderveen

There are always the same people in a marathon
Those who are ahead,
Those who think they’re ahead, and those who don’t care
The ones who wait for things believe they’re ahead
Those who worked until they could stop are ahead
And those who work don’t care
We are doomed,
The marathon is slowly filling with those who think they’re ahead
And those who don’t care are few and far between
And until something changes in people,
Everything will stay the same

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Kenilworth
By Mitchell Vinson Hamlet Spivey

I listen to the broken audio loop of the cross walk station and the repetitive hum of the stationary cars waiting at the light I hear the radio that never seems to stat on the right station with the absurd requests of the talk shows and the screeching of tires is apparent with mad drivers at the wheel  clicking their turn signals clenching their teeth as no one has the curtesy to let them over with their crying child in the back the car makes an illegal turn the wailing of sirens can be heard of the cop car that spotted the illegal turn as it chases the car. 

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Nature
by Ellis Hicks

The wind pushes against my ear as a pillow in comfort

While the breeze makes leaves tiny maracas in the background

Even the balance of wind gave me the vibe of yen & yang

Hearing the scribbles, Crunches, mind waves of scription

The is Earth giving us a description

Seeing the toned down grass wresting against the ants
Best but not least the tree seeds whistle with the breeze

Then there’s the blue wholesome sky

Always the same but sometime the clouds make it pop with surprise

Off on the side there’s ranks, bangs and clinks with clangs

Where sounds too scared to have any good range

Like cars running between sidewalks

And leaves a blasting to softly sounds of its’ grunts

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The entire collection from the spoken word poets

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