Best Coughs Poems


Premium Member In the Mood

lately, i have been in this female mood
for some kind of abandon, that
which exhales the tigress fire
out of my lungs digging the veins
from a week's' routine movements
pruned to the barest of a payroll’s droll…
antiseptic cubicles dictate the rags of
chlorine-infected lunch where rooms
i strut around have nothing except
robotic people, same rye snacks, basins
of expired coffee and files of schizoid
folio.. 

just outside, the sky coughs 
of gas masks rendering a paper bag
of humanity to suffocate on clanking bones
along claustrophobic subways: such a 
hemorrhaging day waiting for 5pm
to hiss, halt ,and heave…

i need to dance with the arms of a 
jazzy moon fondling my back and
whistling the tunes of recklesness
when all but the spirit lusts for is just a slice
of raw breaths spiraling into tangy
punches of rockstar blues... spare me the cranky 
claws of a friday so sore; i alight like
a feline dressed in black lace with cabaret wings, 
feathers splattered on glitzy cobblestones...
voluptuous legs hot and wild sniffing sultry
lavender scent of friday night’s parade;
 
and the band notes howl, free like me. 


Carol Eastman's Your Favorite Poem
by  nette onclaud

Premium Member In Red's Silent Fury

Metallic city howls like a wounded animal
scraped by nocturnal vigils
of grandchildren and elders
emaciated like tuberculosis lungs
gasping from chug-chugs of tobacco soot...
and the face of a night is hammered by
ripped moans like plucked strings in motel rooms;
pagan women opening limbs for a meal in silent fury.

This is the other side of town, so real...

beggars peddling hope; factory shoulders
ranting over shuffled cards and fired gin
as wives’ blistered fingers
clean rented pots, gibbering same monotone of hymn,
 “give us daily bread, daily bread”.

Outside, the pier coughs off
the commercial honks of weighed cargo
reeked with labor’s perspiration,
where pawnshops buzz with greed's snicker...
the evening owl attempts winks
under the grime of bloodied moon…
it spits the larynx of tenants’ raged hoots
wishing morsels of fresh sunset
would pour some grace of life’s salve. I weep

before the shrill of red sets in... again.


------------
Truth Contest sponsored by Anthony Slausin
Re-post    5/28/2019

Premium Member City Frozen Cold

Verse 1

His coat is torn his 
shoes are thin
The cold cuts deep beneath his 
skin
Little boy coughs small 
hands that shake
Winter's breath is much to hard 
To hard to take. 

Verse 2

Sidewalk echoes silent 
prayers
People pass but no one 
cares
Cardboard kingdom borrowed 
time
Every step is a mount- 
Mountain climbed. 

Chorus

And the city turns 
away
Like they never ever knew his 
name
Still he holds his boy so 
close

Chorus 1st Ending
Runs through streets to bring him 
home. (1x repeat back to beginning of chorus)

Chorus 2nd Ending
Whispers / "Son, we're going 
home." 

Verse 3
Once had a home once had a 
plan
Once held hope in calloused 
hands
But fate’s a thief it moves much too 
fast
Dreams dissolve like breath on 
Stained kissed glass. 

Chorus

Bridge

And he sings a lullaby 
so low
Soft as the falling falling 
Angel snow
A father’s love is his sheltering 
Wings of warmth
Even when the nights are 
Broken broken and torn. 

Verse 4 

"Daddy I’m tired my chest feels 
tight" 
His voice is weak his skin much too 
white
Stars above blur in his 
sight
The world fades into endless 
Endless cold night. 

Partial Chorus

And the city turns 
away
Like they never ever knew his 
name
Still he lifts his boy so 
close
Runs through streets…..to bring him 
home. 

Final Verse

He stumbles down an empty 
street
The world is ice beneath his 
feet
He kneels beside the frozen 
City of stone
Whispers "Son… we’re finally 

Finally home."

Chorus

Chorus 2nd Ending
Whispers / "Son 
we're finally 
home."

Outro 

The snow drifts soft the 
Sunday morning gray
No one stops and no one 
Left to pray
Two souls lost in winter’s 
hold
Together now, for- 
ever and ever

In a City Frozen cold

Premium Member Colour of My Heart

Now brown, the once-blue brook meanders down
To dams where sludge has chased beavers away
As species die, our Mother casts a frown
For Nature can’t control man or his way

From fracking, tapping minerals, she groans
She coughs, red lava spews from Mother’s pores
With waste-clogged arteries, she weeps and moans
The very sight of man she now abhors

As Nature inhales toxins, man’s forewarned
Her colors change from purity to rage
Depleting ozone, Earth has now been warmed
Tsunamis, hurricanes take center stage

We shed our tears, entrapped by urban sprawl
But Mother turns her head and lets them fall



*December 5, 2018
Written for John Hamilton’s “Colour of My Heart” Contest
Inspired by “Colors of the Wind” from the movie “Pocahontas”

Premium Member Lockdown

Solitary sun in sapphire skies,
beams its rays upon Earth's radiance.
A tepid breeze flows between
daffodils and bluebells, gently rocking.

Spring is in the air,
yet streets remain silent.
Masked men in green suits,
bearing arms, patrol -
perturbed by unsought peace.

Anticipating unauthorised motions,
they wander past eerie emptiness -
sleeping theatres, picture less cinemas,
sober bars, childless schools and unfit gyms.
Silence is disrupted by military vehicles
occasionally startling their comrades. 
 
Echoes of continuous coughs,
hidden behind closed curtains,
prevent even the obstinate ones,
admiring scents from rousing roses -
whose petals are not idle in isolation.

Industry of death is thriving -
undertakers undertaking, grave diggers digging.
Crematoriums fighting coffin carpenters -
whose sympathies are disguised by greed.

As humanity evolves into ashes.
In the midst of clean air,
mother nature smiles,
bathing in tranquil purity of serenity

the only fire burning is the sun.

Silent One
Simple Musing
22 March 2020
© Silent One  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member A Little Bit Free

Just a Little Bit Free

 I feel that I need to get out
 to walk by the oak and pine trees
 breathe fresh air and. see young creatures
 climb pines and fences — roam all about

 I feel the need to have the sun
 warm my bones, my tendons my veins
 I want to hear people laugh and
 walk with their dogs out to the park 
 throw balls have picnics have fun  

 I want to say hello and talk
 For I know they have been polite
 watching me now for 2 years
 trips to doctors, to surgery with a cap
 and thin hair, with a  cane taking walks

 They ask me how I am 
 and I smile and say good
 now a year later they appear
 to believe me, a large breath escapes
 now its only every 4 months I go for an exam

 Still the doctors tell me to be careful
 to stay away from children with
 their sneezes and coughs
 A lonely prescription, but 
 I do have my dogs

 Another MRI and dyes injected
 another Congressman gone from
 the same disease, so sad but his was a 4 
 and I am a stage 3. still every
 blood lab is collected, every cell inspected

 This weekend we hope to see 
 a play under the pine trees
 I will get tired and my bones and spine
 will ache, my brain will need a quiet rest
 Cancer of the brain is not
 an easy thing to fight off, its tough, unkind
 though now it could be a year or possibly more
 the chemo/radiation is cruel, but for this month 
  I feel good  enough to allow me to be
 just a little bit alive —a little bit free

Premium Member Red Sun

Red Sun 

The engine coughs and sputters
Then roars and shows it’s ready
To catch the sun at Hilo
Rising from the sea.


Written 06/24/13 for Russell Sivey’s
Red Sun Contest....
Remember Pearl Harbor
© John Posey  Create an image from this poem.

Resurrection

(Chorus)
You think you've got swagger but really you hobble,
you've got the jet lagger and you're drunk so you wobble,
don't start on me mate 'cus I will bring trouble,
to put it into slang words I'm Barney Rubble.

(Verse)
I will ruffle trouble 
'cus I'm on another level
that bombs with the base 
and stings with the treble,
I'll strut face to face with any ace rebel,
and put them in their place with their constant bull.

When I rhyme with my contortionist wrist
it expels a mist that sits around my fist,
I spell magic out on paper,
I'm playing with danger,
Mr. Wizardry the word selectionist,
squiggling fiction at speeds that feed friction
into rhymes that are non stop hot and cool, 
so flames don't flame on the table top,
journey with me to witness the plot,
the earth shaker creator of perfected hip hop,
starting revolutions so that mumble is forgot,
dislodging the rust and rot it coughs that clots
and instating my Barney Rubble at the top. 

(Chorus x2)

(Verse)
That last verse was just a small handful,
a sample of something that you cannot handle,
a scan like a bar code,
so lets open up the road and I'll unload these words,
I can't conceal this skill that rolls like wheels,
a Rolls Royce wearing heels,
in fancy halls doing dancing drills,
with golden walls 
to an old skool beat treat.
I wont get signed up by any record label,
but I'm still rhyming better than mumble's able,
just admit you're tapping your feet to the beat
while my rhyme sits on top solid like concrete,
with the dancefloor crammed full,
they're pulling at all angles,
making the memories 
that'll last 'til they're O A P's,
they think they've got swagger 
and they're like Mick Jagger,
they're more like Sepp Blatter
but a little bit fatter.

(Chorus x2)

(Verse)
You can call me Trimendous and true,
you thought I'd flew crashed and was screwed,
but I took it back to what inspired my act,
an old skool hip hop sick rhyme attack,
I rhymed in flight with this write
and its smile's wild with sublime delight,
there are no poetic rare words 
and I don't need swear words
in this dictionary spared verse
with airstream rhythm you can't burst,
I'm wearing this deserved set of words
that pilots and surges to my re-emergence,
a certainty that was never urgent
and not an encore from behind the curtains.

(Chorus x2)
© Nick Trim  Create an image from this poem.

God's Love Is Not a Weapon

The church we sought to find a home in no longer exist.
Our courage is strong, our future belongs to temptation consisting sin.

Woods cut and gathered with selfless labor shall provide us a ship.
This is where I realized that Noah was wrong let the story begin....

The bible has been written by other humans and not by god himself,
If that were the case this place we call earth would surely be squashed by his thumb:

If Noah was chosen by the lord himself why wasn't there taken a vote.
Only those true to the cause, who never broken a law are the only ones who can travel afloat.
If you ask me workers with skills, hunters, doctors, and authors had to be put on the boat.

Waves. collided with storm, some fell overboard, and disease killing the most.
This was not a story written down in the bible, it was clearly a religious joke.

Finally a sigh, purely blue sky. God questioned himself an said this must be why.
After the glory of Independence wore off,
cold came with hunger, sickness with coughs.

Prolonged by sinister thoughts.
Tundra frozen softened, by mayflower drops.

Searching for freedom of religion has fueled actions of the devil himself.
Natives survived years beyond measure and offered to help.
Simple measures of using world greatest treasures,
are kind to share if all is replenished.
Rivers provide water to fish, drink, and refresh.
All mother earth asks is to be shared and respected.

In the name of any religion, sins are forgiven
mothers love fathers, and together form children.
God is good, life can be better.
jesus sacrificed his life for happiness of others.

Where did it all go wrong?

Premium Member Famous People

FAMOUS PEOPLE

she sings beautifully
is beautiful to look at
what’s she really like?
shhhhhhh!
you don’t want to know

the messiah
clear through
no intermission
coughs      yawns
programs rattle

mister music
dead at 45
they say it was an od
a brown stain
on the record jacket

great musician
my violin teacher
i think he admired me
in spite of
the alarm clock on his piano

my famous teacher
i think he’s special      different
my lesson is at ten
his studio door opens
at exactly ten

would you look
his home like the taj mahal
he donated a million
what’d he do
sell one of his persian rugs?

her home is incredible
she allows a look-through
at cristmas
joseph and mary
would sleep in the stable

inside his fish bowl
those dancing eyes
the swish
the dart
another drag of pot

Dave Austin

Everywhere I Think of You

I look to the skies and I see you,
Your face smiling in the midday sun
The rainbow on a damp day
Reminds me of us having fun
Brings to mind the rides at a fairground
The stalls and the coconut shie
The ghost train, where we would steal a kiss
The hit the hammer stall,
which I knew you would try
The bell rings you've done it
Hit the Highest score
Chest thrust out in achievement
Brings a thought to keep for sure

Rain brings another story I think of us
Huddled up under a brolly to keep dry
The puddles we jumped together
Rain on our faces as though we had cried
Holding hands we didn't notice how wet we were
Sneezing and coughs starting the next day
Is this the price we have to pay
For memories that I hold dear.

Snow wow now these are mega thoughts
Snow ball fights  are so much fun
Rolling you over in a snow drift
Putting snow down your neck and run
Then there is the snowman be built together
Carrot for a nose and stones for eyes
Scarf round his beck completes the picture
Tears when the sun shines, it slowly melts 
bringing about the snowman's demise.

Autumn with its cold nights
A log fire has been lit
Romantic music playing
On the floor leaning against you
Is where I sit.
Now I sit alone looking into the fire so bright
Imagining I can see you smiling
Saying don't worry, all will be alright.

I think of you, I always think if you

Premium Member Goodbye Corona

GOODBYE CORONA !


Corona, where are you, what are you up to?
l am longing to say farewell to you,
A final farewell, you doom bringer! 
I am not alone in desiring this,
But speak for every dweller on the earth!


You are wrecking our lives rapidly;
We are not toys for you to play with!
I intend not to beg, but command you,
The sparkling stars, so welcome, appear at night,
But YOU come any time, any space, every where.


Many are unfortunate humans,
Touched by you, engulfed within your domain ,
With aching bodies, hacking coughs and high fever,
They are at your mercy, desperate to say goodbye,
Whoever parented  you will answer to God!


Fear of you is changing cultures;
Afraid to hug, nervous to shake hands,
Many in the world press palms together,
And greet one another with a ‘Namaste’
But I say not “Namaste” but “Goodbye “forever.

Premium Member Reserved But Cannot Be Forgotten

A blessed soil which perspires cashews and coughs out black pepper,
its global banner of rice is raised so high
which is only beaten by one.
Specializing in the juices of the commonest limbless reptile
with cuisines highly recommended by the parliaments of health.

From dragons to birds;
the turtle to the horse;
the minds of its people have well been bonded to these,
making historians marvel at which exactly
helped in denting the American military pride.

Premium Member Exhale

Inhale
My friend has prepared me
For the final moments
She sits beside me calm
A woman not scared
Or so she says…
But I see the fear 
In her eyes
For she is not prepared
For this eventuality
I pass the pipe
Medicinal purposes I tell her
It’s what keeps me hanging on.
She takes a puff
And coughs up a storm
I laugh and cry at her tears
For I will soon be home
She falls back against the chair
Holding her breath for all she’s worth
Then slowly an exhale
She now knows the truth
For I am dead and gone
I cross the river
And sit under a tree
And watch her from beyond
As she begins to see
That death is in my eyes
My chest it’s final heave
For we exhaled together
The only difference between
Life and death
Was that final breath
A second between life and death
That separates us all.
Exhale

Premium Member Nicholas, My Clever Grandson

The joy of birth, the growing up,
leads us to adore our lovely babies.
But not, alas, without the toils of life.
Because we experience a lack of sleep,
contend with baby vomit,
or idiotically putting on his boxer shorts
completely the wrong way around.
 
Yet all is part of being loving
to a newborn child. Sometimes
I get the weird, unworldly feeling
that I'm the worst grandpa of all.
 
Perhaps it's just that I'm getting old.
Try lifting the chubby scamp a little while
and oh my poor back simply aches.
And if he cries I must find out
what ails the urchin, my dearest pet.
A dirty nappy?  Someone take care,
mother or granny, it's their job I'm afraid.
But if it's a bottle of milk he wants,
or nibbling a few small pieces of cereal,
then I am game.  Bring on the glorious food.
 
And when he sleeps, I'm just in heaven,
contemplating the profound miracle of life.
For though he's not directly mine,
he's the continuation of my genetic line.
And so I worry if he coughs or wheezes,
or falls whilst crawling, adding to his bruises.
Awake he's smiling, a gurgling bundle of joy
that makes me proud, he's Nicholas my boy.
 
NB  Nicholas, my grandson, is now 18 years old, studying dentistry at University (first in class) and has a driver's licence too.

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