your blue eyes search my brown, smiling while you read my soul,
i dance for you but your listening instead,
for the rhythm of my heart, the steps of my blood flow……
Listening to her breathe was like dreaming.
It soothed me in hard times and
relaxed men after hard days
It softened the rain on my windows
creating a rhythmic beat
centering me to every thought
Listening is something much of society simply cannot do. Listening is, unfortunately, very underrated in today’s culture. In movies, books, tv shows, etc. it is not listening that is emphasized- rather, just the opposite. Sometimes everyone just needs to stop and take the time to listen. Listening is good for the soul; without it, how could fights be resolved? Ideas be shared? Friends bond? How could people heal? What if the world was suddenly void of listening ears? What if your mother didn’t listen as you tried to tell her about the bully in school? What if your friend didn’t listen when you tried to explain to him why you accidently called him a mean name? Even worse, what if there was no suicide hotline? Who would help the desperate, the needy, the sick, the hurting? Everyone needs to have listening ears. Everyone needs to talk, too. We just need to learn to find a healthy balance between the two.
It seems like sometimes, no one listens to me. It’s strange. I don’t mind it when I’m just babbling on about random nonsense, but when it’s something serious, I would like it for people to listen. Maybe I’m coming in at a bad time, but I do have things I need, too. My parents tend to not listen sometimes when they don’t consider what I have important. College is important, guys. Seriously. 60 seconds up now?
To listen. I simple concept that seems to no longer be apart of out society today. People don’t stop to think about what others say, or even themselves. Open up your minds, your eyes, your hearts. Do more than just hear. It’ll change everything.
I’m listening through the door to my brother’s conversation. I know I’m not supposed to be listening, but what can I say, I’ve never respected people’s personal bubbles. Anyways, this was important. I just so happened to be walking by when I heard my name mentioned.
“No you’re not.” she said indignantly. “You’re staring at me and judging the things I’m saying.”
He said nothing.
“If you want me to follow your rules, you’re going to have to exhibit them yourself; practice what you preach,” she continued.
“I am-”
“Shut up. You’re not. You constantly tell me I’m doing everything wrong but you can do whatever you want.”
“Now look who’s not listening.”
When I listen to her, all I want to do is talk. Talk and cover the terribleness of her words, they pinch and cut and scratch me, words that mean nothing but mean everything, I just want it to end.
My ears are completely open, because to speak would unleash countless insecurities. Self-consciousness. Better to sit still and let someone else be vulnerable, I do the easy part for now, the listening. Silently listening.
sometimes listening is the most powerful of companionship
listening to the windows and the waves,
and to the conversation erupting from the table next to the window
listening to intentions behind the word –
what is said,
and what is not
listening not only with ears wide open –
but with hearts and minds,
both empty
and full
empty of judgement
and full
of love and curiosity
people don’t listen. they avert their eyes and nod in silent agreement, clouds in their minds as they float farther away from me. but that’s ok, I guess I don’t have much to say anyway.
So many people don’t do this. It is what we want from others. We want others to listen and we want to be heard. I think that the term “Easy Listening” is an oxymoron.
She was listening very intently, keeping her breathing as quiet as possible; in order to hear it all clearly. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, although she knew that it was all indeed the truth. But, why would he do such a thing? He wasn’t a murder, at least not as far as she knew. Either way, she loved him. And her feelings would remain the same, forever.
learning to really hear, not just letting the words pass over you, so that you can look more deeply into the person speaking to you. this is how you learn, focus on what you are hearing and not just waiting for your opportunity to speak. the world will open through observation and everything will be richer, and the connections with others will expand. mysteries will be solved.
–to the silence with all of his might, waiting for the slightest rustle to break it. he hadn’t been this far outside the village since he first became a man and his father had taken him to see the edge of the world.
(he wasn’t meant to see it again until he was on his deathbed; if he ever went back to his village, they’d be furious.)
(he would never go back to his village.)
there were no grasses here to whisper at the touch of wind; nothing green at all, in fact. just dirt and dust and stone, and in the distance, becoming clearer with every step, the swirling white clouds that blanketed the abyss.
it was said that a single phoenix feather could endow a man with just enough flight to enable him to walk the clouds above the abyss, as if they were made of solid stone and not mist.
he had reached the world’s edge. against his better judgment, he tried to look down, but it made no difference: the clouds were thick and silky, and he could not catch even a glimpse of the distant ground.
(it was said that there was no ground, anyway, that the world dropped off into the void of space and if he looked below the cloud-cover he’d see only stars.)
he clutched the searing warm feather in his hand. then he took the deepest breath of his life, and he stepped off the edge of the world.
I was listening to the gentle sound of the wind, caressing my ear in the warm summer wind. I sat that there, in the park, thinking about her. Asking myself where was she now? How was she? I then I realized it didn’t matter. Then all of a sudden, nothing mattered. No more was I graced with the mystery of life, I had come to the awful truth. Nothing mattered and it never did.
Plips and plops… these sounds evoke scenes of scientists and oscilloscopes with chaotic waveforms~ no regularity or harmony, but still a certain ambience. Man had only discovered them in the 20th century and was all too keen to find their source, listening intently for signs of life deep within the cosmos, to satiate curiousity of the universes mysteries and end the loneliness inherent to a race with too much intelligence.
My ears craned with the effort, but barely any coherent sound exercised itself free form her loose lips. The dull hum of a heart monitor could be heard over an archaic air conditioner, doing less to cool the room, and more to circulate the smell of old spice and moth balls.
I was listening to “See Emily Play” by Pink Floyd one Saturday night. It seemed like nothing, just a Saturday night. But it was the conspicuous sound of anger, and laughter, and joy all at one inside of me that seemed to manifest. And suddenly I wasn’t listening anymore.
I wasn’t sure that he was listening. I said his name, and said it again. There was no response, and when I glanced at him I saw that he had fallen asleep. My words stuck in my throat as I thought of all the other times I had found him to not be listening. All the conversations I tried to have, things I wanted to say and to talk about. That was when I knew that I had to leave, and with him still asleep, happy in his own world, I packed my bags and finally listened to my own heart.
listening is the best virtue one can have, it shows that a person is a good friend, reliable. u need to listen to everything around you in order to be in balance with the world and your inner self… listen to the sounds of the ocean..
They waited atop the roof, watching, waiting. It would only be moments before they were discovered, but for now, they would listen. Closer, closer, the footsteps fell upon the pavement. Only moments left. Louder.
i hear the soft sound of breathing. So soft, that if i move i will wake the creature. So soundly that all i can hear is my own heartbeat in my eyes, just listening to the faint song in the backgrounds.
Hey
Are you Listening to me?
Do you even care?
No… I sure you Don’t
Not when you’re sitting all the way up there
So high up on your horse
Your feet could never touch the ground
I’m not surprised your ears dont hear my sounds
Calling to you
I like to listen to music when I’m at home, and when I’m at work and when im walking down the street- song in generaç is to my liking. but i dont listen exclusively yo music. i also listen to people when they talk and birds and the traffic.
Talking when nobody’s listening is the worst thing there is . Pouring out your inner most thoughts and feelings, laying your soul bare only to discover nobody cares enough to hear you is a truly crushing experience.
Ouvindo o teu coração de batida indiferente e distante. Ouvindo todas as palavras que não disse e que me ferem os tímpanos. Ouvindo o silêncio que me devora.
I wasn’t listening. The doctor went on and on about prognosis and expectancy but as soon as he said cancer, I stopped listening. 60 years of health and wellness had come to this. I was about to watch her die of cancer.
listening to the sounds of breathing, to the random motors of passing cars, and sitting by the whoooooooo hi. superman says kapow. surprise. this escalated quickly.
I was always listening to someone else. But all i wanted was for someone to listen to me. To actually understand my fears and desires and loves. But I can never actually articulate them. Why can’t they listen to me the way i listen to them? all i ever did was listen and listen and explain and comfort and listen some more to their aches and pains. I think it
I heard about what the stairs could do to that invention, but I didn’t listen… And look where that landed me- right in the middle of the top of southern mexico, riding a retarded lama down some treadmill-like children.
are you listening to me? like not just hearing what I say but really taking it in? really understanding what I say? next time maybe you should take the time to pick apart each word and decode my thoughts, because right now I need someone to hear me, I need someone to listen, and I would like it to be you, because it is your opinion that means the most. I like you.
your blue eyes search my brown, smiling while you read my soul,
i dance for you but your listening instead,
for the rhythm of my heart, the steps of my blood flow……
I’m listening to the sound of your laughter when you’re miles away.
Listening to her breathe was like dreaming.
It soothed me in hard times and
relaxed men after hard days
It softened the rain on my windows
creating a rhythmic beat
centering me to every thought
Listening is something much of society simply cannot do. Listening is, unfortunately, very underrated in today’s culture. In movies, books, tv shows, etc. it is not listening that is emphasized- rather, just the opposite. Sometimes everyone just needs to stop and take the time to listen. Listening is good for the soul; without it, how could fights be resolved? Ideas be shared? Friends bond? How could people heal? What if the world was suddenly void of listening ears? What if your mother didn’t listen as you tried to tell her about the bully in school? What if your friend didn’t listen when you tried to explain to him why you accidently called him a mean name? Even worse, what if there was no suicide hotline? Who would help the desperate, the needy, the sick, the hurting? Everyone needs to have listening ears. Everyone needs to talk, too. We just need to learn to find a healthy balance between the two.
It seems like sometimes, no one listens to me. It’s strange. I don’t mind it when I’m just babbling on about random nonsense, but when it’s something serious, I would like it for people to listen. Maybe I’m coming in at a bad time, but I do have things I need, too. My parents tend to not listen sometimes when they don’t consider what I have important. College is important, guys. Seriously. 60 seconds up now?
To listen. I simple concept that seems to no longer be apart of out society today. People don’t stop to think about what others say, or even themselves. Open up your minds, your eyes, your hearts. Do more than just hear. It’ll change everything.
hearing. absorbing what you hear. learning. attempting. trying. important. memory. difficult.
I’m listening through the door to my brother’s conversation. I know I’m not supposed to be listening, but what can I say, I’ve never respected people’s personal bubbles. Anyways, this was important. I just so happened to be walking by when I heard my name mentioned.
“No you’re not.” she said indignantly. “You’re staring at me and judging the things I’m saying.”
He said nothing.
“If you want me to follow your rules, you’re going to have to exhibit them yourself; practice what you preach,” she continued.
“I am-”
“Shut up. You’re not. You constantly tell me I’m doing everything wrong but you can do whatever you want.”
“Now look who’s not listening.”
When I listen to her, all I want to do is talk. Talk and cover the terribleness of her words, they pinch and cut and scratch me, words that mean nothing but mean everything, I just want it to end.
My ears are completely open, because to speak would unleash countless insecurities. Self-consciousness. Better to sit still and let someone else be vulnerable, I do the easy part for now, the listening. Silently listening.
sometimes listening is the most powerful of companionship
listening to the windows and the waves,
and to the conversation erupting from the table next to the window
listening to intentions behind the word –
what is said,
and what is not
listening not only with ears wide open –
but with hearts and minds,
both empty
and full
empty of judgement
and full
of love and curiosity
people don’t listen. they avert their eyes and nod in silent agreement, clouds in their minds as they float farther away from me. but that’s ok, I guess I don’t have much to say anyway.
So many people don’t do this. It is what we want from others. We want others to listen and we want to be heard. I think that the term “Easy Listening” is an oxymoron.
She was listening very intently, keeping her breathing as quiet as possible; in order to hear it all clearly. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, although she knew that it was all indeed the truth. But, why would he do such a thing? He wasn’t a murder, at least not as far as she knew. Either way, she loved him. And her feelings would remain the same, forever.
learning to really hear, not just letting the words pass over you, so that you can look more deeply into the person speaking to you. this is how you learn, focus on what you are hearing and not just waiting for your opportunity to speak. the world will open through observation and everything will be richer, and the connections with others will expand. mysteries will be solved.
–to the silence with all of his might, waiting for the slightest rustle to break it. he hadn’t been this far outside the village since he first became a man and his father had taken him to see the edge of the world.
(he wasn’t meant to see it again until he was on his deathbed; if he ever went back to his village, they’d be furious.)
(he would never go back to his village.)
there were no grasses here to whisper at the touch of wind; nothing green at all, in fact. just dirt and dust and stone, and in the distance, becoming clearer with every step, the swirling white clouds that blanketed the abyss.
it was said that a single phoenix feather could endow a man with just enough flight to enable him to walk the clouds above the abyss, as if they were made of solid stone and not mist.
he had reached the world’s edge. against his better judgment, he tried to look down, but it made no difference: the clouds were thick and silky, and he could not catch even a glimpse of the distant ground.
(it was said that there was no ground, anyway, that the world dropped off into the void of space and if he looked below the cloud-cover he’d see only stars.)
he clutched the searing warm feather in his hand. then he took the deepest breath of his life, and he stepped off the edge of the world.
I was listening to the gentle sound of the wind, caressing my ear in the warm summer wind. I sat that there, in the park, thinking about her. Asking myself where was she now? How was she? I then I realized it didn’t matter. Then all of a sudden, nothing mattered. No more was I graced with the mystery of life, I had come to the awful truth. Nothing mattered and it never did.
Plips and plops… these sounds evoke scenes of scientists and oscilloscopes with chaotic waveforms~ no regularity or harmony, but still a certain ambience. Man had only discovered them in the 20th century and was all too keen to find their source, listening intently for signs of life deep within the cosmos, to satiate curiousity of the universes mysteries and end the loneliness inherent to a race with too much intelligence.
My ears craned with the effort, but barely any coherent sound exercised itself free form her loose lips. The dull hum of a heart monitor could be heard over an archaic air conditioner, doing less to cool the room, and more to circulate the smell of old spice and moth balls.
These weekly visits with grandma were tough.
I was listening to “See Emily Play” by Pink Floyd one Saturday night. It seemed like nothing, just a Saturday night. But it was the conspicuous sound of anger, and laughter, and joy all at one inside of me that seemed to manifest. And suddenly I wasn’t listening anymore.
I wasn’t sure that he was listening. I said his name, and said it again. There was no response, and when I glanced at him I saw that he had fallen asleep. My words stuck in my throat as I thought of all the other times I had found him to not be listening. All the conversations I tried to have, things I wanted to say and to talk about. That was when I knew that I had to leave, and with him still asleep, happy in his own world, I packed my bags and finally listened to my own heart.
listening is the best virtue one can have, it shows that a person is a good friend, reliable. u need to listen to everything around you in order to be in balance with the world and your inner self… listen to the sounds of the ocean..
They waited atop the roof, watching, waiting. It would only be moments before they were discovered, but for now, they would listen. Closer, closer, the footsteps fell upon the pavement. Only moments left. Louder.
i hear the soft sound of breathing. So soft, that if i move i will wake the creature. So soundly that all i can hear is my own heartbeat in my eyes, just listening to the faint song in the backgrounds.
listening
listening
listening
listening
listeninglistening
listeninglistening
Hey
Are you Listening to me?
Do you even care?
No… I sure you Don’t
Not when you’re sitting all the way up there
So high up on your horse
Your feet could never touch the ground
I’m not surprised your ears dont hear my sounds
Calling to you
I like to listen to music when I’m at home, and when I’m at work and when im walking down the street- song in generaç is to my liking. but i dont listen exclusively yo music. i also listen to people when they talk and birds and the traffic.
You will listen to me. Now you are listening too me jump off the side of the Grand Canyon. :-) JK;-))))))))))))))))
Listening to nothing sitting alone in the middle tof nowhere just thinking and listening
listening is like looking but with imagination
listening is majical because it works your brain.i am so bored.lets listen to music
marko te amo demasiado, quiero verte pronto y que seamos felices.
Talking when nobody’s listening is the worst thing there is . Pouring out your inner most thoughts and feelings, laying your soul bare only to discover nobody cares enough to hear you is a truly crushing experience.
Ouvindo o teu coração de batida indiferente e distante. Ouvindo todas as palavras que não disse e que me ferem os tímpanos. Ouvindo o silêncio que me devora.
I wasn’t listening. The doctor went on and on about prognosis and expectancy but as soon as he said cancer, I stopped listening. 60 years of health and wellness had come to this. I was about to watch her die of cancer.
listening to the sounds of breathing, to the random motors of passing cars, and sitting by the whoooooooo hi. superman says kapow. surprise. this escalated quickly.
I was always listening to someone else. But all i wanted was for someone to listen to me. To actually understand my fears and desires and loves. But I can never actually articulate them. Why can’t they listen to me the way i listen to them? all i ever did was listen and listen and explain and comfort and listen some more to their aches and pains. I think it
Shhh
Just listen.
She told me.
You think too much.
Do you ever take the time to just pause for a minute,
and listen to what someone else has to say?
It can be nice, slipping out of your thoughts and putting someone else in control of your mind.
You should try it sometime.
I heard about what the stairs could do to that invention, but I didn’t listen… And look where that landed me- right in the middle of the top of southern mexico, riding a retarded lama down some treadmill-like children.
are you listening to me? like not just hearing what I say but really taking it in? really understanding what I say? next time maybe you should take the time to pick apart each word and decode my thoughts, because right now I need someone to hear me, I need someone to listen, and I would like it to be you, because it is your opinion that means the most. I like you.