Best Decibels Poems
The Symphony of Rain
I gazed outside my patio
the gray clouds formed a dire dun
A clap of thunder sent its hint
and lightening followed as a spark
The season for the rain has come
and rain descends and spreads a song
A steady stream of decibels
intensifies a melody
The chorus joined by flowered plants
birch and Palm trees dance and sway
Repeating verses to a lull
then soon there are the single drops
dripping then there is no sound
A rainbow arcs around the sky
The birds return and greet the sun
They languish in the water fount
and sing an encore to the end
Ralph Sergi September 3, 2018
*I wrote this poem while watching and listening
to a tropical storm. It was very enlightening
My ears are deaf
I hate gossip
The emotions of everyday life
without words
Impressions through music
Create depth and more mindfulness
~ The wind in the willow trees has settled down ~
My ears are deaf
I hate gossip
Listening to the bluebells,
when the whole body screams for rest
An everlasting stream of information
Stress, increased pulse, and muscle tension
~ Small falling feather, the setting is visually beautiful ~
My ears are deaf
I hate gossip
Bell sheep and the taste of mountains
Without road traffic noise and ventilation systems
Give me the truth, but protect my ears
40 decibels is a harmful dose
~ The fox is ready for hunting without breaking a twig ~
My ears are deaf
I hate gossip
Your body language is a sign of lying
The crystal glass is crushed in stereo
The rattlesnake finely polished rattle
High sky with pure white clouds
Pull the handbrake
~ Swans that majestically float on the water ~
01/09/2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Silence Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
1st place in the contest
Tinnitus tinnitus, innocuous by name,
invisible tasteless, sounds pretty lame,
Ears hissing, snakes inside my head,
Growing louder, causing turmoil in bed,
Room’s spinning, feel like getting sick,
Banging kicks off, rhythmically quick.
Tinnitus tinnitus, pneumatic drillers,
incessant maniacal machine gun killers,
Thumping smashing, trash metal band,
Like rock music, but this I cannot stand,
Eyes are bloodshot, severe lack of sleep,
cacophonous noise, then marching feet.
Tinnitus tinnitus, chainsaws a cutting,
No trees or lumberjacks, I see nothing,
Put on the radio, try drown out noise,
overwhelmed, lose rationale and poise,
Church bells peeling, ringing perhaps,
overloaded, mind spirals into collapse.
Tinnitus tinnitus, curse this living hell,
hammering my face, eyes begin to swell,
Delirious sweating, sheets soaking wet,
overcome in confusion, desperate upset,
Pray to god make the torment go away
release me from this Kafkaesque array.
Tinnitus tinnitus, eardrums explode,
Brain is shattered, as decibels grow,
Can’t take anymore, at my wits end,
On slugs of whiskey, sanity depends,
One after the other, knock them back,
Throbbing numbing starting to relax.
Tinnitus tinnitus, drink myself unconscious,
Wake up next day, agonizingly nauseous,
My ear is on the pillow, bottle’s in pieces,
covered with blood, trembling increases,
Look in the mirror, No no this cannot be,
Vincent Van Gough’s, staring back at me.
By
David Kavanagh
The man like a phoenix rose from the smoke
And we with the audicity to hope looked up and heard
The strange cawing of the vulture white bird
Like a code unciphered, and yet the angst provoke
Of allies in the foxholes fretting for a change.
O this is a time between peace and war, no strange
Allegories here. Numbered with dead, some
Disrupting double consciousness found ransome
In books and ballot, a narrow, but fertile range
To sing of the weary years a different way.
We sang a rap around the blues without dismay
And knew that singing needed wings as well
For feathers when lingered in the flames made hell
Hotter in the heart. And there the phoenix like day
Renewed rose to better us in our dreams.
But the constant cawing, the vultures loud screams
In decibels of silence are rattling the moon
A phoenix only flies when the nest egg is ruin
Walk softly on the brittle shells, here are our dreams
It's late, it's late you cannot turn back the clock
Among the prairie hens are eagles fallen from the rock.
amplified questions
I sit alone atop a mountain
my guitar in hand
peering out over the valley below
beyond green patched rifts
playing in the key of lost dreams
fractured chords out of tune with
decisions in distorted decibels
high volume idiocy wailing
as I telecast amplified questions
which now return to me
in the feedback of my own doing
Man's decibels is now mute,
The nature's music is to float,
The living souls have attained the tranquil state,
The worries and frustrations now combat,
The lamp of night has lit the light...
Oh! the view is a beautiful sight !!
The sky and the sea look alike,
As the vehement waves strike!
The pollution levels are low,
It's a calm and cool Earth now!
Stars have formed the clusters so tight,
The constellations look so bright!
This world is indeed a beautiful place,
So let's forget the race,
Attain our dreams with grace!!!
Wouldn't it be great
if all this oil ran out
No brush cutters, lawn mowers
or blowers about
Today it's Easter Sunday
on the edge of a large town
There's stillness and calmness
the decibel level decidedly down
The birds they are a'chirping
leaves are rustling in the breeze
The flowing bubbly sound of our nearby creek
all designed to calm the soul if you please
The revival of community
all together lend a hand
Gather fresh organic home grown food
heads no longer buried in the sand
Going out on a limb! :)
Yee haw, woo hoo and holy crap
We beat the U.S. by crickey
It's Canada's game so it's only right
Forever ingrained in our psyche
The women won gold as predicted
But our men will have it much tougher
Up against a talented team from Sweden
For gold, it'll go down to the buzzer
Look at the pink patch of land to the north
Just above the 49th parallel
It'll be coloured a very bright red and white
Sound will reach ten thousand decibels
There's really no question in this guy's mind
The gold is a foregone conclusion
We are the best, there's no longer doubt
No longer will there be confusion
Go Canada Go! will be heard loud and clear
Olympic Gold Medalists in hockey
Reigning champs for the next four years
Can't blame me for feeling cocky
© Jack Ellison 2014
Let it be that - we are simply disconnected
And all of it that was before is now neglected.
Just as in an international call
And I'll stop knowing what you whisper all
Over her right ear,
Petting her mere
Hair. Listening to the cheerful imps
Of your disturbing thoughts. A glimpse.
And recognizing every rustle
Around you. A twitching muscle.
Here's the sound of keys jingling,
Here are her fingers mingling
With your fringe, here's the wind strangled in the curtains,
The load of memories it burdens...
Sms beep, the block is off,
The parquetry squeaks yet the steps are easy,
Flick of a lighter and that's it - the tone. How cheesy...
And I'll stay a bit in the telephone booth
Reciting poems of my youth.
Awaiting for the firing of invisible squadrons in my temples to cease.
Oh would I ever feel the ease?
Of simple being, I'm happy as old colonel Frehley
Who died with a reciever in his hand.
Let it be that as if it's five years past.
And we are all steady here at last.
We're not as booming with the decibels,
But we're worth a 1000 for a ticket.
There might as well be time for cricket.
We are working like real men,
Making money as easy as trimming a bush. We stem.
We're not giving our minds any downtime.
What's mine is mine.
And I am aware of what I am worth.
It doesn't matter that nobody is willing to pay the price.
We run in circles just like mice.
We meet and knock back three
Glasses of Chilean semi dry and you look at me.
And then you say "I am pround of you, Polozkova!"
But no - nothing breaks inside me.
That August we were still drinking outside
And you were wearing
My jacket - we are joking, singing and smoking...
Probably you never knew that from that night on you
Become the protagonist of my hysterics and mimes. All anew.
One day we'll recall this -
And wouldn't be able to believe it ourselves...
Let it be that my vim and naughtiness
Are back; My slouch and flabbiness
Are gone; And nothing's beating me inside
No pain within me would reside.
And there's no need to write
My poems. How can I ignite?
Let it be that I don't sob hoarsely with every chorus
Just like a dyed-haired singer with little morals.
How nice that you're sitting
In front of the screen and thinking
That you're reading
Of somebody else.
AA TO DF, THE COMPLETE LIST
AA automobile association – UK’s best
AB Alberta - Canadian province in the west
AC electric currect alternating
AD anno domini - yearsafter Christ’s coming
AE famous poet real name George William Russell
AF air force as in RAF - and USAF as well
Ba barium – a chemical element
BB Brigitte Bardot - attracted every gent
BC years before Christ the Lord
BD as in CHMN. of the BD. = board
Be beryllium an element much in use
BF bloody fool - in UK , polite abuse
Ca California – beaches, suntanned crowds
Cb cumulonimbus clouds
CC cubic centimeters (as in 500cc motorbike)
CD compact disc. Or cadmium if you like
CE civil engineer (professional designation)
cf means “compare” (Latin abbreviation)
Da = Russian for “yes”
Db decibels - measure of sound, I guess
DC is where Obama works his activity
DD doctor of divinity
De = French for “of” or “from”
DF direction finder - for a plane with a bomb
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written for Debbie Guzzi's Contest "A.C, D.C.. A.D., B.C."
This moment I've been awaiting for a number of years
To see ones heroes live see them crunching their gears
I'm on my way to Glasgow with workmates and friends
To finally see live their fantastic tracks they have penned
Anticipation now flows into the concert arena we await
It's the buzz, the hungered wishing, terrific time trait
The moments now close for the lights start to dim
For this three piece on song a most wonderful vim
Strobe lights, Bass intro, my awaiting now starts
To us fans they're our hymns soon singing our hearts
Shouting cheering hearing the first vocals now voiced
To the chorus now reached such incredible rejoice
Mellow chords to lead guitar which slice through the air
Decibels so loud for we simply sing and just stare
Drum solo so immense it's orchestral to our ears
So energetic melodic sublime, to magnificent tier
Thanks, plaudits are shared, encore after encore
It's not just their lyrics, it's their quite beautiful scores
This moment I've been awaiting for a number of year's
To see ones heroes live, I have to admit there were tears
.
So, so lyrical,
yet logical,
it's certainly atypical;
and not proverbial,
but integral
and oh, most controversial!
But is it topical,
optical,
even for the intellectual
to see the actual
pragmatical
to its theoretical?
So casual, gradual,
and implausible,
it’s almost incomprehensible
were it not for the owner’s manual.
It, too, appears eternal,—
not temporal.
Never mind paradoxical.
Damn! it’s infernal...
Alas, it'll be too “illogical”
for the head magisterial,
whose financial
committee might find it problematical.
Still, the crux is perennial:
it’s too pivotal
to not state the irrefutable
with extra audible mega-decibels
if the funding residuals
for scientific experimentals
like the quantum mechanical
are incommensurable,
which is thus deplorable,
intolerable, insufferable,
disagreeable, horrible,
and most unsupportable
(in my view as a professional)!
"What He Turned Out to Be"
He who was a head banger
Idolized man a with too much make up on
And danced around a room cram packed with decibels
Playing one of many lavish air guitars there was an infinite supply of them
Maybe he was that person, as he saw himself in a poster
Some suspect any other influence would've been better
Instead choosing to fall under the power of notes
Succumbing to the concerts and the chaos
There are clusters of bodies bouncing by the thousands
Music made him dive headlong into waters of similar people
Harmonious spells they are, encouraging joyous times of irresponsibility
Rocking to his rhythmic beat and the life style of rock star entertainment
A man center stage feels his own groove
He himself swaying to the thumping and bumping
The entertainer know his songs all too well
And the head banger asks for more late into the night
How can the man on stage deny?
Calls for certain songs are indulged
The event must end sometime
A reminder most fans matter not so much, their loyal doth fade
But forget this one not, as the man who is a groupie
When it takes certain darkness to truly see light,
or a butterflies wings flap can swing with great might,
Dare say true pleasure's joys purely present through pain,
Too then can we assume even true soul's paired fight?
I have a dear friend who's as loved as a brother,
as quick as a whip with his mind in the gutter
With Me! And that humor sick dark like my mother's,
No never would I ever trade for another!
Small minded to promise our path never falters,
That voices at decibels shake the still waters
Still this small promise kept, that our rage ne'er striker
To you love stays loyal, and always will fight for
Every earlobe ever pierced, minus non-pierced lobes, without exception
Quantified by head size, quality of piercings, and variety of earrings worn
Under ultraviolet light, utilizing reflective space, sound waves and distance
At appropriate intervals, measuring cut, clarity, carat, color and character
Totaling to a six figure sum, then divided by US bonds withdrawn from IRA
Increase the risk of screaming in agony, up to, but not more, than 50 decibels
On an operatic stage, bursting glass objects, as per fat lady singing, wherein
Numerical miscalculations of damage, therein, must be subtracted from the
Sum, so that all of said variables will not exceed the confusion of the bystander.
Written on 3/9/2016