Best Cacophonic Poems
False dawn scouts creep eerily through the mists
dance on the cooling surface of moonlight
nudge nocturne musicians through final riffs
to tease the crusted eyes of daybreak’s sight.
Awake!! Soft breezes call to rippled shores
beseeching all to greet their rising king
in hum, in chirp, in open petal doors
a welcome to this cacophonic fling.
So bathe within the flame of sunshine’s lust
impregnate frozen dreams long dormancy
rejoice in bringing forth earth’s budding thrust
welcome the loving touch of passing bee.
Sweet sun, you arc across a future’s sky
fade beneath the moonlight’s reverent sigh.
©3/5/2018
submitted to – Sunshine Sonnet – Poetry Contest
sponsor – John Hamilton
She has a pair of subtle eyes to brood in forlorn,
the vile tale of heart rending cacophonic dissolution.
Those eyes were meek, never crude
to yearn the ties of proximity longed!
Those meek adorable eyes have endured
the absolute phases of reckless decimation:
have witnessed the brutal armageddon
of its plunderers desolation,
who have thwarted her genial expectations!
She has those mystic musing eyes
to impulse in pensive disposition,
an amiable abode of assured assertion,
to recreate the invisible affable bonding of elation;
a placid reciprocating ambience of virtuous relation:
has flair for the protection, the care, the infallible affection,
despite, those hands' propensity for imprudent desolation!
Those pair of sober eyes longed to thrive in composure and attention; in delectation,never in aversion!
Oh! what a horrific sight, with the axes in the hands,
the slayers and usurpers of its tranquil serenity
are waiting like sordid savages for her dire extinction!
Her latent moistened eyes are witnessing the march of those executioners:
are sobbing in utter horror and dismay,
cursing and shrieking quietly her non kinetic endeavours,
to conserve the sacred entity in virgin forests; pristine,
from the unscrupulous callous ventures of the predators.
She has those whimpering eyes to foresight;
to remind the dire repercussions
of dereliction of reckless deviations;
Are wailing and mourning in utter seclusion,
the ceaseless thumps of the usurpers' annihilation.
Those Pair of Latent Eyes are Nature's Eyes, neither vague, nor obscured:
silently screeching and watching,
the relentless heedless ravagers' devastations,
Not yet any restoration, despite beseeching imploration,
needless to predict, will reveal in various manifestations!
abstracted bass, cacophonic drums echoing.
fretting guitars, humming in jubilation.
knackish lyrics, melancholy narrated opus.
phrased quartets, rare sonorous texture.
upbeat virtuoso, windy xaphoons yodel Zep.
Great untouched woods of the north
Where pines still grow a hundred foot
Small valleys, no vast mountains
Where every few miles runs a natural fountain
We have an upper and a lower half
Summers so perfect- always sigh 'n' laugh
Wolves still howl in places far and deep
Moose and deer frolick, play and leap.
Surrounded all sides by the Great Lakes
The state one and only- make no mistake
Cities, huge, cramped, cacophonic clamor
Deep woods, so silent, rare a flashy glamour
Mute forests, harmony with nature some prefer
Shrill of streets, dogs, and cars some infer
Full of culture and fellowship- we citizens
This magical place of peace is my state- Michigan.
A. Green
Written for the "MY LAND IS MY HOME" Poetry Contest
by Skat
Mute forests, harmony with nature some prefer
Intimate times in her lakes and fields
Cities, huge, cramped, cacophonic clamor
Hit the forest every weekend
Is still pure, when you go "way up there"
Great untouched woods of the north
Another cannot compare with the Great Lakes Splendor
None need try, none need dare as I will ferociously defend her.
Embrace her in her beauty, if perhaps someday you go,
Enojoy autumn leaves, fishing her the lakes or playing in the snow
Verdant Operas
Cacophonic symphonies
Cicada Harvest
To the Tree, He was condemned,
like a callous kleptomaniac.
Castigated and scorned by
a cackle of cacophonic voices.
Clamours and clanging...
clanging of corrupt tongues.
Away, they led Him to
the welcoming Cursed Cross.
For ages, this Cross has borne criminals,
The condemned offenders that roamed the streets.
A symbolical structure of falseness,
Of corrupt mortals punishing cursed beings.
The Cross welcomed a new Curse -- with ecstasy,
A quintessence now is being laid on it.
So many sins on this One crucified,
A once-in-a-lifetime grace for the Cross.
Amidst pains; amidst sufferings; amidst hell; amidst the dead;
The Curse crawled along.
To Victory; to Redemption; to Rebirth; to Grace;
The Curse turned around.
Christ, He became, ascended into Glory,
And the Cursed Cross crossed over.
No longer a symbol of affliction, but,
A monument of Grace that saves.
Galatians 3:13
Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us: for it is written, Cursed is every one that hangeth on a tree:
HAPPY EASTER
Creeping, creeping
Shadows, like dust under a bed,
crawl from the corners toward you
Creeping, creeping-
Eerie low bellows quake your spine
Slowly chills run up and down-
Creeping... just cr e e p i ng
Open your eyes, so so slow, just enough to see
where the shadows are going,
just cre e p i n g, c r ee ping...
Low bellows, like a whale song,
begin to temper longer, slower, louder.
The sounds surround you, they are your atmosphere-
your very air.
Cacophonic, the air and wafting shadows wrap you
in a cocoon of fear
crawling up your spine
Chilling-
just c r e e p i n g, c
r
ee
p
i
n
g....
Tremulous soil plays host to fleeing frightened fauna as
cacophonic outpourings shatter my serenity.
Whilst my delicate limbs shake in symphonic sympathy,
spluttering engines of destruction belch caustic black plumes,
burnished blades gouging vicious fissures in Mother's carpet.
Horrified, I bear witness, as immemorial kin
are butchered and unceremoniously hauled away;
their dessicated carcasses destined to line pockets.
Now I stand alone: sole survivor of this massacre.
Left to contemplate my fate, I muse: when will my time come...?
--------------------------------------------------
(14 syllables per line - checked with howmanysyllables.com)
16 September 2017
For the "Personification of Plant" Premiere Contest, sponsored by Kim Rodrigues.
(4th Place)
cloud strewn sky thunders
cool breezes bring petrichor
cacophonic snarls
savoury smells slumber sweet
liquid gold raises spirits
~04 Aug 2016~
Masti - Hindi word for fun
There is a calm across the waters,
The sky tis sullen and laden,
As the heavens pail with discolour.
The sea bestills with anticipation,
Birds fleeing , seeking, haven.
A silence begins to fall, as the tempest, draws near.
Clouds begin to stir , as a shuffling rumble is heard .
A gentle zephyr lulls across the the sea,
Tis the beginning.
Slowly it draws nearer,
Ominously approaching, eddying, waiting,
With eerie intent.
A crackling whip is heard, the heavens explode with light,
A cacophonic symphony begins, all is ablaze ,
A myriad of sight and sounds,
Seas boiling, afroth,
Whipped unmercilessly , by hellish gales,
Bolts of unearthly radiance, flash and eminate the sky.
Sheets , and torrents, plummet down ,
In violent cascades,
Blinding , soaking in its fury.
I watch as nature releases its harness,
Unleashing the elemental forces.
Here I stand , alone the shore ,
Awed , in reverie, of such a power.
Yet ever , as always , the storm abates,
The rains begin to ease,
The winds , soften, clouds , drift away.
The sunshine , returns ,
Birds , begin to sing ,the sea gently, waves.
I am left , with , a longing, and a joy,
Of such wonders,
That I shall come again , to these shores ,
And watch the storms ,
Next time , hell ,unchains the shackles ,
To her door.
Clement Hardy.
Another typical insipid day
the sweet, crimson glowing ember
falling revealing the lustrous serenity
of kaleidoscopic skies
Elysian whispers around
my remaining canvas of arid
Gossamer and prosaic filled voids
replaces citrine, saffron nirvana
Bodies surrounding shimmer effulgent colors
I'm yet to remain in my dull ashen-sparked cave
A sudden delirious shriek
gleeful, exuberant faces
twisted into pale onyx terror
An apocalyptic doomsday guaranteed
Terminal of mankind ; destruction of
of earth prophesied
Everyone's glistening resplendent canvases
splattered grim trepidation
Painted with oblivion; like mine
with included kneaded dollops of overwrought
Perhaps the revolutionary, prodigious hysteria
sparked fluorescent inspiration
My ebony pedestrian now being sparkled
in an euphoric nostalgic feeling
A persistent voice echoing;
...
An exploded erosion of scarlet filled emotions
I clutch my brush and become the creator I once was;
Amongst the cacophonic abyss
painting an ephemeral, nebulous word
into my perennial realms of cerulean hopes
Brushstrokes of light touched canary among daffodil fields
Turning into shapes of radiant marigold inspiration
painted over leftovers of monotonous drab
In the end's haunting echo of emptiness
I found my exuberant-buttercup passions of a sunlit meadow
My bolstering voice of ivory whispered inspirations
I am an azure propelling star among cobalt filled echoes
of forgotten melodies
I've reimagined my painted chiaroscuro perspectives,
crafting a bold artistic masterpiece
Outside convenes a caucus of noisy crows,
through my window I observe their convention,
an impressive display but no one really knows
their chaotic cacophonic intention.
Landing on the lawn, and taking to the trees
Seemingly argumentative and yelling.
A skitterry squirrel takes note and flees,
taking refuge in his knothole dwelling.
The clamorous cawing is strangely staccato,
Shattering the prior, peaceful dawn.
All at once in a flash of feathers, they all go,
To implement their plans, they must move on.
Written by Robert A. Dufresne
TONE DEAF
Blind men searching for a silent sound
amid the cacophonic ruins
of solitude’s deafness.
John G. Lawless
8/7/2014
For PD’s contest
Any poem under 5 lines #1
Everywhere The Kids Are
By: J. Philip Harris
Kids are here; Kids are there
The kids I see are everywhere
I’m swimming in a toddler pool
Of poop and pee and puke and drool
The chaos ripe, as it abounds
That rhythmed, cacophonic sound
It’s heightened ring I hear, resounds
Everywhere the Kids Are
The messes here, the messes there
The messes roaring everywhere
Like little flames set forth to fire
Consuming up the precious briar
And through the forest manor
It’s hectic, yes, I’m quite aware
With passing hyper critic stares
But something lingers in the air
That few will ever know
Kids are here; kids are there
Bringing with them pungent airs
Of joyous love eternal
A moment captured amongst the war
Of happiness felt like that of lore
But truest ever known
When time has left us standing here
Aged, creeping heads of steer
We will hold that love so dear
Everywhere the Kids Are
The air is sad; I feel it, too
The seasons change from green to blue
The light has left us in the dark
With our glowing flame
It may be small, but we can see
That Christ is leading you and me