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Best Keep It Down Poems | Poetry

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The Best Keep It Down Poems

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Steamed Ferret

Steamed Ferret

Very steamy hot thoughtful stuff
get me hotter sure enough
getting hard to  keep it down
feral  ferret will swim or drown

would you like to eat a chop
as i'm fumbling at your top
lamb is good but tiddley's better
cannot get the catch unfetter

can we have a cuddle now
moving closer to the chow
tween your thighs I could slip
panties dinna wanna slip

things are damp its getting harder
no way to get  between
in a  rotten Russian Lada
gear stick jabs me so obscene

finally i'm in the passion pit
plunging driven just to it!
yes i'll make you moan a bit
but i'm only dreaming :)

Don Johnson

Yes Trace :)

Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2011

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Our Bed

As I strip the mattress bare
and watch the pile 
of sheets, pillowcases, 
blankets and pillows grow
I find myself thinking of you...
and me.

What comes to mind
is sheer happiness.
As I tuck the sheet under the foot of the bed
(just like you like it)   
I catch myself laughing 
remembering the times we would stay awake
late into the night wrestling...
(I always won)   
trying to stay quiet
until our laughter was uncontrollable
and we would hear one of the kids
yell from the next room...

I arrange the pillows 
just as I always do...
(your favorite one on top)   
and I take an extra moment
holding your favorite pillow...
your scent drifts up to my face
almost as if you are there.
I set it in place and realize
how many years have passed.
We've experienced so much
in this bed.

The laughter is what rings in my ears
as I fold back the comforter
to expose just a touch 
of those all too familiar sheets
(you know...the ones with the ducks flying on them) .

As I leave our room
I find a sense of anticipation
in the thought that in a few short hours
we will be here again...together.

Copyright © Mary Nagy | Year Posted 2006

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Next Year

This is the second in a trilogy of football poems.All the need to be read to get the full story.

Now they've lost in the playoffs
It makes me want to cry
But they'll win next year
It's then they'll do or die

This team is full of talent
You can't keep it down for long
they'll be back with a vengance
For they will write this wrong

The quarterback still awesome
None like him came before
More wins then any rookie
Next year he'll wipe the floor

You can take it to the bank
For this is no darn lie
To the Superbowl they're bound
It's there they'll do or die

You see my faith is solid
This team is due much more
To the Superbowl they're bound
Number five is at the door

I talk to you again
When they have won the Bowl
I'll tell you how we made it
Plus who you should console

Copyright © Charles Reese | Year Posted 2015

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I love weed; Afghan Red to be precise
It is my favourite illegal vice
I do it in the bath and in the hall
I smoke it in summer and right through fall

I smoke in class and in canteen
I smoke when cops are on the scene,
I light up when in academic gown, 
a practice that made my former
Wife frown

And on the bus it is a hoot, to fill the
Air with devil’s suit; to draw it in 
And keep it down, is much preferred
On trip through town

So if you feel life’s closing in, forget
The doctor or the gin, it’s weed that 
Makes the world go round, its soothing
Pleasure…it has no measure... this
wicked vice, I'll always treasure

Copyright © Peter Lewis Holmes | Year Posted 2015

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Black Magic


You work like temptation.
Souls like yours produce money and smoke.
Your laugh is a trigger for gun shots,
a whisper for promises never kept.

I remember when you played the piano
horrible and tricked me to pay for it.
You were the thunder scaring children
in the dark, voice a shadow never there.

Dear Mister Black Magic, you took out the sun
and the zombies cheered for you with worship. 
Who are those that follow you, proud of path?

My control slipped under the butter of my fingers.
A cut started to grow in my skin. The next day 
it started to heal. Mother Nature learned my listen.
Teach me to walk unnoticed. My roar is louder 
than a lions. We are inside. Keep it down.

This is not a jungle. Those teeth are too big 
for this environment. Learn another lesson
about the value of an object. 

Scratching somebody’s back isn’t worth gold.

Copyright © Lyon Brave | Year Posted 2016

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My Sorrowful Soul

“Sometimes, a hug can mend a sorrowful soul like mine” – J W M Earnings
What’s the point of sorrow when I have tomorrow to look forward to?
What’s the big deal with people who just don’t want your help?
Is it time to face the fact that I have been wasting away my time?
For hours on end, 
I have wanted to be with you during your tough times
The antique clocks of time tick away 
As the day unwinds…the wicked wind do sway
When you are by my side,
I feel you, crawling into my heart of dry ice
Something in me has died
Something horrid has separated us forever
Amen to that once sweet sacrifice…
I was going to make 
Now, my life is at stake
Goosebumps grow up and down my entire body
Everybody…look at everybody…
They glance vacantly in our direction
I yearn for my future faith to sooth me with affection
Oh, my sorrowful soul cannot take this any longer – cease from playing that sad, sad song
I am venturing off into obscure dimensions
Venture with me for a while…I would never do her wrong and she wanted me all along
You belong with me always; for days, I have missed you…these obsessions –
Sex is not racing through my mind…but I have dealt with these obsessions
Replaying naughty scenes of temporary relief, 
Then glancing in the mirror in disgust…
A lust that turned my hopes into dust
But, love is close behind
There are many treasures to find
Snowed under by the words you sensibly speak so kind
I wept for you in winter snowfalls
Do you see those glistening waterfalls – 
Place them in Your jar,
Oh God of blessings from afar
He shines brilliantly bright like a twinkling star
Time slips 
Away from my finger tips
The difficulties…the challenges…the effortless times I’ve had with writing…
I can deal with the tasks that test my skills of being a sharp bard
Yet, I can’t deal with the tasks of being a fool in school
Prudent lips mutter sincerity 
Whisper it to the wind and pass it on to me
Let me hear it…I smile delightfully 
Misery does tug on our hearts so…so bitterly
Bittersweet is your nature, entwined with mine alone
Pass on encouragement and hand me the cell phone
Dynamically, I dance without a care
Keep it down just a hair – I washed away the despair
And untangled my hair and unleashed it on the bathroom floor
I drown away the regret that’s been making me soaking wet…I swore…
I swore in my heart I won’t be infuriated anymore, 
But I’ve been pushed out of shape 
Yet, I keep this in mind – there is peace in mind to get rid of grief…a grief that veiled me like a midnight cape
Where are you when I need you most? 
I can’t help but mention you and boast
Gnarled trees twist and turn
The echoes of gladness and madness have left me…in this wilderness to burn…
Kindle the flames
Rouse me with royal names,
Even though I do not deserve such praise
I am going through my atrocious days
Sometimes, a hug can mend a sorrowful soul like mine
What’s the point of sorrow when I have tomorrow to look forward to?
What’s the big deal with people who don’t care if I live or die?
Maybe…that sounds selfish to say such a thing like that
I can’t help it…
the way I deal 
with the way I feel…
is as tricky as killing a gnat
Is it time to face the fact that I have been wasting away, never knowing why?
Why? Why? Why?
Why do I fight the urge to cry?
Somber fears 
Has reduced me to tears
The years of my life – 
Were they not important? 
Despite all I have done, I cannot forget the strife…
Regret not, poor infant…and stomp not on that strong, barely-surviving ant
You’re my infant of light 
You are my flawless friend
You built me up with might
You are my beginning and end
You’re my infant of night
You are my sensitive friend
Be brave and stay strong, alright?
My sorrowful soul…is meeting its end…
Waiting for the end of sorrow
Unwearyingly do I wait for God’s Tomorrow
Spread your wings and fly like a blue-and-green-striped sparrow
Our problems will fade
But, farewells, I must bade 
Soon, this quote will be placed in Yesterday’s files:
“Sometimes, a hug can mend a sorrowful soul like mine” – J W M Earnings
P.S.: Keep a cheerful spirit and wear those smiles
- My Sorrowful Soul

Copyright © J.W. Earnings | Year Posted 2015

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I want to write a funny poem now
after reading Darryl's poem
Why do men think there is no tomorrow?
Because they always want it today
What does a bird say to a bee?
Watch me haha
I'd better keep it clean
Keep it down, will you?
The neighbors are sleeping ha
Is there earthquake around here? 
I heard the ground is shaking
Don't be too long
I'm coming haha
That's it for now
I hope you enjoy it 
Earthshaking moves
Easy will ya?

Inspired by Darryl Ashton's "Body Talk - remotely" poem.  Thanks, Darryl :)

Copyright © Toquyen Harrell | Year Posted 2014

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My secret crush

I think about you everyday
I plan out what to say
You have no idea, you have no clue
Just how much I think about you
I try not to stare, I try not to hide
These emotions that are clawing at my insides

I want to tell you how I feel
But the voices inside makes me hush
So I keep it down inside my heart
Hoping that nothing falls apart
Wherever you go, my heart will follow
I hope my heart will never be broken
All because of my love unspoken

It's just so hard to ignore you
Just so hard to not look at you
I don't know what it is about you
That makes me feel the way I do
No matter what they say
I can't think of you that way

But it's hard to say "Hey"
Or just smile and simply wave
I don't know why I feel this way
and when you smiled today
Oh how it took my breath away.


Copyright © Erik Lonely | Year Posted 2017

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Despising Authority

Mankind has a great aversion
refusing authority’s commanding rule
thinking they always know best
but in reality they’re not really cool

The human heart is filled with pride
authority has to make pride break
overpowering it to keep it down
showing who’s boss and no fake

God’s the absolute authority
no human one can really compare
for the eternal one is truly king
man’s in comparison’s really bare

But mankind continues to despise
all kinds of authority bar none
not realising God reigns supreme
on the final; day man can’t run!

('No one despises human authority unless he first despises divine authority'
- Richard Sibbes (1577-1635) puritan theologian.)

Copyright © Gordon McConnell | Year Posted 2016

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Susurrous Mind

Now it is time for a sleeping spell. 
Blessed sleep, come and my cognizance quell.
I shall lie and await.
I shall quietly hate.
These moments before the slumber, I detest.
Hasten your pace, pacify my unrest.

The dreams are just before my eyes,
And I can see the forms coming into clarity.
I reach out to take hold of this,
This one desire at this most perfect time.
But you, Susurrous Mind!
Why do you speak?
I am near my sleep
And you cannot just wait til the morn?
Must we now decide to reanalyze all we are, 
Figure what we shall keep and discard?
You have broken me now, twice, just today!
I have left my principles for your sake!
See how I write, 
This is not my way.
The wearing of days without rest adequate
Has done this, and now I changed my musics?
Let it go, let it be,
My spirit is willing, yes
But my body is weak.
Let the complexities fall away,
Just for this moment.
Be simple so that I do not wander about a labyrinth.
One way in, one way out,
Both ways dealing with all you wish to talk about.
Free-verse and country, what is becoming of me?
Neither true to form no, but that is my sanity.
Holding true, holding fast,
Waiting for my sleep at last.
Take a pill to make me sleep,
We both know I can’t.
But Susurrous Mind, 
If you will to keep me awakened
Can it be useful and have studies be undertaken?
Of course not, no!
You must be in control.
Pick up a book and be sent right off,
But it isn’t the rest that I dream of.
This write is from the insomniacal side of me.
I am aware also of my repetitive neology. 
Goodnight, goodnight, but not before the fight.
We will wrestle, you will win, 
And I maybe get my prize.
Susurrous Mind, keep it down!
I sleep heavy, yes, but your screams silence cannot drown.

Now it is time for a sleeping spell. 
Blessed sleep, come and my cognizance quell.
I shall lie and await.
I shall quietly hate.
These moments before the slumber, I detest.
Hasten your pace, pacify my unrest.

Copyright © Jonathan J. | Year Posted 2014

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Sleepless Sensuality

Emphatic moans flow of ecstasy while
rhythmic motions fill the darkened room
with echoes of euphoric bliss

Bedposts knock weathered walls as
breaths heated and loud
sparkle on a swaying chandelier

Minutes become hours
as passion rains from lonely eaves
collecting on rattling window panes

The floor beneath the bed
creaks in sensual pleasure
rocking this late restless hour in moonlit cries

And I can hold back no more…exploding,
I pound on the sheet rock yelling,
“Can you keep it down…I’m trying to sleep over here!”

Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016

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Not Yer Fancy Highfalutin Writer

I write about everyday happenings That's my style and I'm sticking with it I'm not yer fancy, highfalutin writer Down to earth stuff is what I emit I sometimes get naughty, God forbid Try to keep it down to a minimum A fine old gentleman from way up north An honourable upstanding citizen Have you had enough, are you getting ill So sorry, but I really must emote I'm a Leo you know so don't blame me Not responsible if I sometimes gloat A handsome devil, I'll give you that Learned to live with girlie's attention Quite like it, makes me feel kinda frisky And relieves my sexual tension So that's me, I'm just an ordinary fellow Not yer fancy, highfalutin writer Stick to the basics, just ordinary stuff Known as a lover, not as a fighter © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2014

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they fall upon me, each bent on doing harm
I fight them, for what I know now, as my life
kicking, stomping, flailing, smashing
their fury only increased by the affront
of my fruitless attempts to obstruct them
this angry little mob, of angry little men

a voice rings out, a clarion in the dark
that briefly piques their bleak interest 
shouting, calling, warning, admonishing
it falls weakly on their deafened ears
pausing just to raise derisive laughs
and their assurances to "keep it down"

awakening to a doctor's droning voice
drolly noting each fracture and contusion
defensive wound, defensive wound...
as he dictates the inventory of my defeat
all I can think of is that voice in the dark
demanding some "peace and quiet, damn it"

Copyright © David Brown | Year Posted 2015

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My Blue Dress

I never seem able to stop a fall, my life is just a mess

Even though I don't look it- smiling in my blue dress

I comb my hair and keep it down, something I never did

The secret behind it? I can keep my face well hid

My smile, and my kind words mean nothing, no not these days

And on the outside, though I may seem stable, my body discretely sways

I cannot handle the weight on my back but bear it with a grin

Though on the inside I lost the game, on the surface I appear to win

At night I'll curl into myself and cry until I'm asleep

Yet in front of people-smile. I smile so they can't see me weep

Copyright © J. Dover | Year Posted 2011

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What's Going On

March 1985.
The God-voice had been yelling at me to go to the library since I got the third child bathed and in bed,
And I had sat down for one measly second to relax. 
Can you take this book to the library?
It’s 9:00. The library is closed.
I know.
Take it tomorrow. Pay the twenty-five cent fine.

My eyes start to close, but the voice is yelling now.
Go to the library! Go to the library. NOW!
I am so exhausted.
Being psychic is irritating some times.
I beg Joe once again, but he refuses.
So I get the book, and head for the car.

A big car, a big huge big big seats everybody kind of station wagon.
This is 1985, so I need one of these.
I’m a girl scout leader with 18 laughing yelling girls.
As I start to drive in the library lot, I see what looks like a riot IN THE LOT.
Oh, great, I think.
Young Mother killed going to library at 9 p.m. after library is closed.
I drive clear around the block to avoid riot, go up the secret back entrance 
Jump out of car, run in full terror with book, plunk it down book slot, 
Run back to car, jump in, lock door, try to get out and realize I am now
Surrounded by a bunch of teenagers.

An angry, yelling, MOB of teenagers!
I am so glad I have one button that locks every door simultaneously now.
Please, lady!

My full brain kicks in and I realize every teenager is a girl, and some of them have been crying.
I lower my window two inches.
“What’s going on?”
Some are hiccup-sobbing.

“We left the mall about two hours ago, following some cute guys, and then it got dark, and we don’t remember how we got here. We’re from Moravia (very small town), we’re here for the girls’ basket ball tournament, and we have to go back to the mall. Our teachers are going to be so mad.”

I hit UNLOCK. “Jump in!” I say. “I can get you there in 8 minutes!” They are so relieved as am I.  I am a mother of 3 girls, and a pseudo-do-mother of 15 others, remember? They are the most grateful, happy, joyful, giggly, excited, relieved girls, and I am full of myself telling them how glad I am that I came along and telling them how it came to be.

As I steer that big old green station wagon full of girls into the huge almost empty parking lot at Merle Hay Mall I see four buses, not leaving the abduction scene, and six mighty worried-looking teachers. 

To help them, I lay on my horn and keep it down all the way to them about a block and a half. The girls are waving from all nineteen windows and screaming and blowing kisses.  

Those teachers who should have been jumping up and down with pure joy just stare at us as if we are a UFO or dinosaur with an extra head or something.

I screech to a stop and everyone starts yelling thank yous and I love yous and thank yous and I feel such a pride that I listened to God once again. 

As I drive home with a huge satisfied joyful beyond joyful smile on my face, I think “If Joe would have gone, they would have never gotten in the car with him"

Joe's 350 pound man, with an intimidating glare that I often need. People are so scared of him he doesn’t have to wait in a line. They always open a register for him.

No, God, it had to be me, a small woman with a BIG BIG car, and it had to be a small woman with a big big car who can hear GOD. 

So let’s not make fun of psychics, okay?

Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018

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fin - debut

fin - début

what human has created, sapien can asunder
it's not ours to keep forever defaulted
through ignorance, avarice, prideful blunder
it's only some created civilization after all

the neighborhood won't deny our urban renewal
the neighbors probably thought for a long time
but might think us uncaring, unmeaning or cruel
yet wish we'd "keep it down", maybe return to slime

maybe the lease is up, no longer to be penned
maybe the sheriff is here with papers to serve
maybe we're really - finally, at our wits end
with all of our crap piled on the universal curb

we've predicted for a long time now
some coming of some long overdue end
with pillared salt, conflagrating fires and
the certain demise of you and me, my friend

yet maybe this new task that we've found
that we stumbled over, can start tomorrow -
and help to insure that we're still around
to work it out, and get new path to follow

we've been balled up on this ball of dirt
we've been petty, bickering, trifling asses
but maybe we've got another chance to avert
certain disaster and redeem all of our masses

the cliff, the match, the fingered button
can recede to our memory of too close calls
if we silence our forked tongues of gluttony
and open our minds to beyond our own walls

in the company of strangers
in the company of stars
in incorporated company
to reclaim what lost, can now be ours

© Goode Guy 2012-12-12

Copyright © Goode Guy | Year Posted 2012

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To be precise It is now exactly half past never
And see, I’ve been trying to tell you that for years
The last will always come first as second seeks solitude
When the best is bested by the worst
And the damage done is due dutifully to a pen you threw away and damnable difficulties

But then the stars start to startle you by speaking
And the moon tells them to keep it down
However all of them  know the sun dons a crown
And weeping willows aren’t truly weeping
They’re just as startled by and concerned about the fifth of forever as I am
And what happens when the daffodils refuse to bloom
Now have another cup of sassafras gloom while trapped in a triangular shaped room
Where the angle meets the hypotenuse toe to toe
In a ring of fledgling fallacies 
With last winter hiding in your closet
And don’t believe them
There is a monster under your bed
If only in your head
And the mercury will dip as low as it chooses with no limit set
Only the breath from the fifth of forever can get us to where we wish and want to be
But somehow melted puddles of yesterday move under our feet
So we’ll speed up the pace to a place of pleasantries and platitudes 
But respite there has a bad reputation
and won’t exist until the fifth of forever
I’ve been trying to tell you these things with the hope you’ll heed what I needed to say today

Now above all remember that wherever you see a moth there is a hoard of locusts bound
May the rain be your shower and the sacrosanct sea your bath
As we are held hostage by Mother Nature’s wrath
I am prophesizing the fact that there will come a day when even a cork will sink
I’m telling you man, this ain’t nothing but a planet filled with people who should shut up, sit down and think
              © 2011.…Phreepoetree   ~free cee!~


Copyright © jeffry cohan | Year Posted 2011

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Timeless Pleasures Surround Us

A giddy grin escapes the persecutor of demise
A giddy smile comes from those who do not sign
They laugh at you when no ones around
They poke and play games without a sound
Keep it high and keep it down
Up and all around
Fake the way we laugh at you
Seeing ever so deeply, 
Right through you

You can’t decide if it was fun
You can’t decide, maybe
It was just one
One and only, while lost and homely
Despicable and descript able, 
Your ways are to me

Numbers all one through a hundred
A million more and a million less
The lesser shall make their tombs with ease
While seeking a dream that does no appease
To me, while we fight alone
On the battle field of hate
Poking and spitting on a carcass of meat
Seething right through, 
To another date, 
Of misery

Inside the diary, 
We find devotion so true
Devotion so void, 
And yet, 
Un attuned
The smiles hide secrets deeper than meaning
While we seek for a world, 
In utter de meaning
It plants a foot inside your doorway
And lends a hand to another way to foreplay
Rejoice in the fact that it has come to an end
Rejoice in the fact that we have no friends

Make a decision and you will always regret, 
The way it comes and goes all around us
Make a world of tiny grains of sets
While lying to yourself about a heaven so blessed
Factory workers seek comfort in suicide
Growing old is just another name for dieing
Plant a flower for the world of today
And plant a tree juts to say, 

Rebellion in the streets of chaos
Chaos is the sweet, sweet sound of rain
Thunders swift violently through the mindless
And our minds will swiftly decay, 
By one piece to the next
And another to top the best
Soothing sounds have lost their pleasures
And a child has lost its sweater

Alone in the streets they will come for you
Picking you off two to one
Lies of a rose fallen in black
Signing your name to another death contract, 
Yet in the same, your will blame…
More on us
And less to bless
Seek comfort in wisdom and pleasures
Seeking comfort in a dieing feather, 
Burning away to lost decay
Just another day to play, 
All for just one more day

Copyright © adam hollingsworth | Year Posted 2011

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Hunger 4

       Hunger 4

So much food such little time
With so much on my mind
As I consumed the New York Times today
While others read it
My stomach grabbed me by the throat
Made me feel its pain
It screamed; “Feed me real food.” “I’ll kill you on the spot you idiot!” 
Rejecting lobsters, steaks and other pictures on the pages
The news informs me, implores me to eat on
Out of newspapers that I found
Though the images were colorful and pretty
The ink did not go down so well
Cellulose taste really grainy
I couldn’t fool or trick my self
Consuming nonfood stuff is, well, a little crazy
Eating buttons, coins and dirty bugs 
Is not exactly healthy, delicious or nutritious 
My stomach is not too fond of me these days
Perhaps it’s something that I said or ate or read 
Hunger is the only one true constant
It’s hard to keep it down

Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014

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The Noise

The noise is a wound that won't heal
Vibrations don't let scars take hold
Held by a grip that tightens at will
No mind over matter
Because my mind is its hold

Even when seeing it coming
Light travels faster than sound after all
I can brace for impact but still

Adrenaline is injected
Muscles clench
Shaking starts
Without fail   Again here I go

It is simply a noise     I know
car horns leave me screaming
bus brakes I am squealing
when my lover does dishes
   I cringe     taking cover


  The Noise
isn't all noise
Again my mind is its hold
  be it threat or loss of control
Not all noise is my foe
fireworks and thunder are spared
and the right beat at the right time can be blared

but I have been concussed was
knocked out for three days 
cussed at on my bike
blaring horns two decades

So I ask you to   Please keep it down
and one more thing please


no parrots please.

For The Noise contest Hosted by Shadow Hamilton
Composed in the wee hours of March 6th 2017

Copyright © Maureen McGreavy | Year Posted 2017

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they say life can be exquisite. 
they say life can be a sensation. 
they say life can be otherworldly.
when I woke up this morning, 
I heard the ***** upstairs. 
she was screaming, engaging 
in every problem she could 
her boyfriend asked her repeatedly  
to keep it down.
she screams that much more.
it's 7:33 in the morning.

I on the other hand woke up alone. 
I don't have to hear that ****.
sensational or
life can be many things.
mine at the moment in this bed,


By: Chicano Eddie

Copyright © CHICANO EDDIE | Year Posted 2017

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Epilepsy is something I never had
And for that I will always be glad.
I've been shot, fell off a cliff and even been in a house fire
But the day I had a fit is my least desire.
It was something I could never fully explain
It's left it's mark within my brain.
The Dr's didn't know where to point the blame
I feel for anyone who goes through the same.

I honestly think mine was for a reason
I seem to change with every new season.
I think I was fighting on the wrong side
I needed the kick I refused to abide.

Life has a habit of clinging to me
Suicide? I climbed back up the tree.
The last thing I had just me and my drink
Now I can't keep it down, it's down the sink

Copyright © Bleddyn Pullen | Year Posted 2017

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Alzheimer's Domino Effect Chapter 2

Live up to your highest potential
Live for the future
Now is your time to shine
Hoping hopelessly for you to be mine…


I’m hesitant…unmovable air…
Leaves us in this despicable despair
Keep it down in there 
Just a hair…
Let us love birds sing with each other
In harmony…or in one marvelous melody…

I have some good connections with my elderly companions…
But, most of them stink like rotting onions…
Sorry to say…moreover, they are just downright dirty…
I am the only one in this institution that keeps himself clean
I may be the flirty type (if I do say so myself), but I’m lugubrious and languorous 

I am lethargic and doleful 
My mug is half empty and it’s mighty pitiful
Foolish and wise I have come to be
So please, don’t leave me…
I do love you, fair lady
You’re not bias and you’re so rational 
I’m such the opposite…I think too irrational 
But, you…your pale skin…your silky, graying hair…
It sways in the air-conditioned dormitories… 
I wish, when I am retired, that we are at the beach 
Hoping to see, with these weary, silver eyes, your gentle, gracious hair blow vibrantly with the breeze…
You are the one that I yearn for…but, you’re out of reach
Because you left me for another weirdo that sat next to me…
My so-called buddy once upon a time…
Now, he stares at the television 

I am bold, 
Though old...

Copyright © J.W. Earnings | Year Posted 2016

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For The Girls Like Me

Yesterday in a bar, a boy asked me if I had a good relationship with my father 
His question caught me off guard and before I could respond 
his voice cut through my own thought process
He interrupted me, laughed and said “daddy issues?"

My so called daddy issues stem from a man who never earned that title. 
Society paints this phrase with a dirty brush, telling men to seek out these women because to them they are not full women 
They are broken. 
And broken women make for the best hunt 
Easy to catch, and always searching for affection. 

This is for all the the girls who have been abandoned by their own blood line 
Who have been beaten by their own blood line 
Who have been sexually assaulted by their own blood line 
This is for us 

For the second… 3rd… and 4th glances behind my back, making sure that I’m not being followed. 

For my obsessive habit of locking and yanking and locking and yanking and yanking and yanking my bedroom door to be positive no one can get in.

For the fact that you are out there somewhere, a free man while I am forever shackled to the memory of your face, your voice, your touch

For the hours and hours of therapy coaxing me to unlock those memories and  let it all out, while my insides scream keep it down, bury it deep, don't think about, don't talk about. Because if you talk about it, its real. 

For questions like why me? and how many others? I’ll never get the answers too.

For my unborn little girl I’m afraid i'll never meet,
 because the thought of giving myself completely to another person is the most terrifying thing I can think of.

For the little girl I never got to be

Copyright © Alex Blare | Year Posted 2016

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Hair We Go Again

He woke up in the morn in the dog house
wondering why and what this was all about
his wife said I have a bone to pick with you
I warned you last night not to look at the view,

But he had not listened and the transformation had begun
becoming a very hairy son of a gun
howling and growling at the huge full moon
his wife yelling would you keep it down you crazy loon,

She told him he finally calmed down after she gave him a dog treat
and he became docile while she rubbed his belly and feet
grabbing a bone he ran outside on all fours to the dog house
where he preferred to sleep instead of on the couch,

She said to him you know this crazy thing happens during a full moon
but even so I still love you a bunch when you act like a crazy loon
so they made it work out for the both of them
each putting up with their monthly mood swings.


Copyright © cheryl hoffman | Year Posted 2017