Treasure Island

Fatima Nusairat

(Jordan)

How My Voice Go Alone In The Vacuum!


Because I know how
the trees tremble,
When wind blowing!
How my voice
Go alone in the vacuum!

I became a chord
Between the violin chords,
A tender tune flow..
Above the lips of lovers.

I became a letter in novel,
A deep calm voice to
A deer's dreams
In the seduction chord.

Transparent desire;
Paint in the night's gasp
The sense of the moon.
I became a chord
Respond to echo.

A chord pours the tunes
Whispers in the vacuum,
As anthem tune of doors stridor
When wind shakes branches of trees,
And when my voice
Go alone In the vacuum.

Submitted: Friday, April 25, 2014
Edited: Saturday, April 26, 2014

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Topic(s): alone

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (How My Voice Go Alone In The Vacuum! by Fatima Nusairat )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Look up or down, hasmukh amathalal
  2. Igor, Von Kimball Barney
  3. Does He Think Of Me, Brianna Kimball
  4. Live the life king size, hasmukh amathalal
  5. Tropic Interlude, Liilia Talts Morrison
  6. The Bear and the Crow, Stephen Katona
  7. Still exist, hasmukh amathalal
  8. INCONSTANT LOVE 10 WORD, Beryl Dov
  9. HAIKU...The Good Die Young, Ken e Hall
  10. I Know, Lyn Paul

Poem of the Day

poet Henry Lawson


The old year went, and the new returned, in the withering weeks of drought,
The cheque was spent that the shearer earned,
and the sheds were all cut out;
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]