Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel (Lyrics)

Hello darkness, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping,
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence

“Fools” said I, “You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you”
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed in the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming

And the sign said, “The words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls”
And whispered in the sounds of silence


Across the distance
He could hear
The eager rush of the waves
Nearing the fingertips of the shore
“We’ll get there, we’ll get there,
We’re finally getting there.”
Drunk with the charm
Of a promising current
As their wishful hubbub
Turn into multiple,
Successive howls
Hushed to stillness
Drawn back to rest as
Part of the endless ocean
and over
How tragic,
How sorrowful,
How remarkably beautiful.

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How Are You? by Tyler Caine

“it’s the same question
every damn day.
doesn’t matter
who you’re talking to,
it’s always
“how are you?”
you know what that’s like.
it’s the common courtesy
to ask people
how they are doing today.
I get it,
ya know,
it’s the easy ice breaker,
the sympathetic greeting,
that casual
“see, i kinda care about you”
line that is the go to
conversation starter.
I say fuck that line.
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21 by Patrick Roche

One word for the introduction to this poem: Goosebumps.



21. My father is run over by a car.
He is passed out in the road with a blood alcohol content
4 times the legal limit.
I do not cry.
Four months later,
The nurses lose his pulse,
And I wonder whose life
Flashed before his eyes.
Rewinding VHS tapes
Old home videos
19. I haven’t brought a friend home in four years.
18. My mother sips the word “divorce”
Her mouth curls at the taste
Like it burns going down.
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If— by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
    But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

Explaining My Depression to My Mother: A Conversation by Sabrina Benaim

This piece is performed and written by Sabrina Benaim, one of my favorite spoken word poets. To emphasize the beauty of this poem, I’d say I don’t know how many times I replayed this. I know I replayed it a number of times during my bus rides on my way to school. I replayed it a couple of times before closing my eyes to sleep. This went on for about a couple of weeks and I replayed this so many times I could hear her voice inside my head as I read the transcript. It’s been a while. And I still love this poem. I really hope you’d appreciate it as much as I did. 🙂


Explaining My Depression to My Mother: A Conversation
Mom, my depression is a shape shifter.
One day it is as small as a firefly in the palm of a bear,
The next, it’s the bear.
On those days I play dead until the bear leaves me alone.
I call the bad days: “the Dark Days.”
Mom says, “Try lighting candles.”
When I see a candle, I see the flesh of a church, the flicker of a flame,
Sparks of a memory younger than noon.
I am standing beside her open casket.
It is the moment I learn every person I ever come to know will someday die.
Besides Mom, I’m not afraid of the dark.
Perhaps, that’s part of the problem.

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