Best Loud Poems
You speak into your child's life in whispers
With the strength of the four winds
No need for yelling
For your child has expectant ears
Wisdom
A fathered gift
Born out of pained understanding
Mistakes not needed to be repeated
Your love an inoculation to failure
Resilience will permeate a new generation
You smile with furrowed brow
For time passes much to quickly
There is fear there is some lesson you have forgotten
Not what you want for your begotten
Still you see this precious ones progression
He possess strength laughter and compassion
Humored moments and strong funny bones
Will insure this child will never be alone
A tender heart and a will like a stone
One day
You will have to let go
Time progresses it never slows
Deep inside your heart grows because you know
You have given your all
This child will rise up tall
Won't be afraid to fall
He heeds your Father's call
For he has learned at your loving feet
Wisdom has been his bountiful feast
Some day he'll be a father too
He'll bring blessings back to you
For you have been faithful
and a father true
Inspired by Funom's poem, "Words of Wisdom to My Child".
Inspired by Machinehead – Darkness Within (Acoustic version) & members of society who refuse to embrace the kiss of silence…
As great intentions
Wither upon invalidated declarations,
Serenity’s crowd holds teary-eyed candles
Making silent wishes
For the venom to be sucked
Out
Loudness’ waxy build-up
Making filthy demands
In delegated hostage stand-off
To be HEARD
Cocked pistols, insignificant
Firing duds against glasshouses
Rubbing “war-torn” palms
Within cemented rubber bands
Forgetting life’s lesson
To shut their raging mouth
If they truly want to be heard
Amnesia’s warning sign to muzzle thyself
For one meaningful second
To ALLOW a merging of disappointed truths
Into their heartbeats
Salvation’s attempt to stifle boiling pressures of Sangre
From coming face to face with reality scythes
They latch onto plastic rosary beads
Fade to Black
Singing Gregorian prayers,
Removing knife from karma’s back
They strum in vain to please the Lord.
We see your true colors
Shining through
We see your true colors
That’s why we can no longer love you
Placing forced expectations
Against vulnerable humanity
To lay weary heads on curtailed shoulder pads
With foolish attempts to swallow moot points
And pride-coated defibrillators
To jump start a heartbeat, extinct
Forgetting that even self-made pedestals
Have a limited warranty
I see your true colors
Shining through…
©Drake J. Eszes
(Innuendo -- Pigs)
All around are sticks and stone
Feel God's loving arms around you
-----At last, I am redeemed-----
A feast of my soul, you shall receive
A cake for dinner, I made out of stones
Ratchet pigs fill their dirty mouths,
Consuming my soul, sipping on champagne
At peace with myself, brushing off the walls
Nevertheless, tonight they speak in tongues
-I strain my ears to listen;
While pettitoes approach my page
I hear the squeals, I hear the chit chat
from he/she that wears no shame.
Am I she, the evil one?
The one you penned -
Under the influence of manipulation
Trying to stifle my voice of beauty
No matter, I am crazy, a dreamer
Never claim to be THE INNOCENT,
The Poet Destroyer!!!
I ignore the walls when they speak
Nevertheless, tonight they have eyes
They watch my every move
A trotters dance, of togetherness
Forgetting the reason we are here
I will win and conquer my privacy
You can't destroy what you can't see
I am the glory of my day
I am God's pet!!!
A Lamb, wearing white
To others a wolf in disguise
Spitting slithers, swear
I am the Devil's Advocate
I marvel how they snort at night
Today I will crash the sore whispering party
You! My friend, no longer exist
You are naught more than cobwebs
You will dream about me, write about me
I will give you ammo, then read it from you.
I will show you what a demon is!
Like the light and envy of every moon
I shall ask my reflection and remove
the residue from hogging lips.
I will watch you urbane the truth
The heat and lust I conquer from you
A font with no reflection, dating apples
Heading away from its own advice
A hard task from its quill, enjoying leftovers
Pinpointing fingers among shallow dreams
It's sickening to see pigs pat each others back
Feeding on my demonic words
Convoying innuendos in my bearing
Now it's my turn, to turn the roaster on
With no interest in removing muddy sheets
I shall smile and walk away
In - joy - my heart beats and smiles
Knowing, I made you look --- AGAIN!!!
By: PD
I shall delete my existence says the dead man
No more do I breathe
No more shall I rant
Although often I recant
I shall delete all my poems says the loud hen
No more am I here
I shall disappear
Like a child with tuque over head
I shall rescind my tantrums says the dead man
No more death for me
For it was plainly to sobering to be
Back to pen, oh so hypocritical of me
I shall come back using other names says the Hen
No more logical than the other dead man
I am the judge of the poetic world
The laws must be according to childish wee me
We the little men who bicker and whine
We are united, our immature prettiness shines
The poetic soldier who mocks old ladies
Does he not know tiss he who is insanely crazy?
The crow will squawk his cranky banter
The songbird will fly to a more harmonic tree
The Hen will cluck and twitter and rant
All the McVillians with feathers it seems
Flocking together, oh the birdbrains do scream!
Turn on the beats of the heart
And loud love.
The soul longs to hum
The tune of passion.
An upbeat aura of magic
Steering the ride.
An everlasting journey of love
Luring hearts to be on board.
A puff of spring breeze turning mild
Blankets of frozen feelings.
Breathe in the scent of love
Design a divine cocoon.
The music within is warm enough
To bloom.
Uncage fears and worries
Rejoice what of beauty
In can be filled.
Seize times of glee
And set the soul free.
Turn on the beats of the heart
And loud love.
May 19th, 2018
the whole world is happening at the same time
every conversation, every bird call, every lion roar
every everything bunched up to oneness in my head
I carry the white noise of distance wherever I go
I am an out of tune radio coursing through debris
and tin whistle high notes playing one key in harmony
that is my head, that is my thunderstorm in stereo
imagine a life having to speak over an orchestra
but there is a beauty and stability to hearing
all the insects of the world crawling along
simultaneously with every wave and fish fuzz in water
wait, I think I can hear the flowers growing
the leaves falling, the sand rearranging on every beach
though if it can happen a little less loudly
so it doesn’t fill my every second, that would be ok
now, and it has taken sleeplessness,
I am privy to galactic secrets, the gods are chattering
all at once so I’m none the wiser for the cacophony
just full of loud
I strained to hear a sound
that could not be heard
What needed to be learned
imperceptibly blurred
It was so loud
this lonely burden
Of what I was aware
I could not be certain
Leaving me wondering
“What’s beyond the open curtain?”
I didn’t want to listen
to what I couldn’t hear
That rumblings
in my inner ear
It made me feel sad
while growing my fear
“What is my purpose?”
“Why am I here?”
Each moment that passed
Felt like it would be my last
The mingling of my future
with my sad past
I didn’t know why
Or what made me try
Could I find truth
Within a cruel lie?
No one else knew
Or could even care
How could they
even be aware?
So I understood
it was my own despair
It lived within me
It wasn’t somewhere out there
I could feel the fabric within me
as it started to tear
I wish I knew
what was false and true
As the thumping tearing
pounding inside me grew
Yet that still loud silence
it could not be heard
For it was always thought
It was never word
My past, present and future
together blurred
Then I placed bare feet
upon grassy ground
I felt connection
beyond mere sight and sound
I longed for freedom
while being earthly bound
A full circle moment
flowing round and round
Somehow my skin
it fully understood
My fingertips
communed with wood
The Earth and heavens
spoke through me
“You are now perfect
and always will be
Yes a part of all
that’s been created by Me.”
your lexis drifted
almost like the wind blew them
loud sigh of nothing
270720111620
Rainbow spectrum hue teems; colour path beams
Flow among the streams; forming back, white dreams
Fantasy within seams; fey air it seems
A life with themes; verse quest forward in reams
Go forth with loud screams; sublime self-esteem
Taking sunbeams; blessing our Lord’s supreme
1/9/2016
Rhymers delight- internal monorhyme - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
You tell me i am loud
So much so i could restart the pulse of the dead
So what if i am ?
I am what is says on the tin
Would you rather me dead ?
What if i was only a voice in your head ?
Dangling your heart on a thread
Because God wasn't willing to share
Would you be willing to put up with me then ?
And stare at me back like the very
first time that we met
So you tell me i am loud
And it passes right over my head
As currently i listen to you as you do to i
With a microwave burning a hole in our laps
In fits and pieces over the din of our
black and white television set
Till i can't even remember the last time
it took me more than a minute to make
up our bed
Or you made me feel anything at all
Let's call this what it is
Two lonely people who happend to fall in love
Once upon a time
For all the wrong reasons
And now blame each other for it
And trees . . . a wild hullabaloo,
as I walk a loud chirping path;
deep into the forest of green,
I am delighted with bird trills.
Listen- the murmur of water,
and trees . . . a wild hullabaloo;
through the tangle a stream whispers,
I follow the gurgling water.
To the crash of the stream plunging,
it gushes, booms down jagged rocks;
and trees . . . a wild hullabaloo,
I sit near water beautiful.
The sky above is azure blue,
green forest wraps me in hued arms;
yet, in the din there is a peace,
and trees . . . a wild hullabaloo.
_______________________
July 09, 2022
Poetry/Quatern/A Loud Hullabaloo
Copyright Protected, ID 07-1472-542-09
All Rights Reserved, 2022, Constance La France
Written for the Premier contest, Onomatopoeia
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 07/30/2022
my laugh raises hair on people’s necks
it is not petite, polite, refined, or subtle.
it is a throwback to your hillbilly ancestral
caveman’s outrageously loud and ugly laugh.
when it happens, it is as if the bowels of my
inner crazy is released after 4,000 years in
a dutch oven.
I forgot how loud it was when I picked up three
boys for a little “hey, let’s learn this board game”
session in the hallway where teachers’ classes are
trying to work.
One of the teachers said, “Mrs. K, the kids wondered
where all that laughing was coming from, but I knew.”
I started to apologize, and she said, “I love hearing it.
I loved it; I truly did. Do not apologize!”
I heard later that a rude teacher, who is always dour
wanted me to apologize. I had already tried, right?
As the snowflakes fall to the ground, the flows of my tears begin. My hand on the windowsill, my head looking up at the sky and I’m asking God why? Then as crazy as it seems He speaks to me. In my mind, he replays the memories of torture, pain, sickness and then I find my answer. A bird passes by and stands on top of a building. It flaps its colorful wings and it lets me know that without any work, you already got your wings because you are truly an Angel. I vision you in heaven off to the corner, sitting in your comfy chair putting a puzzle together. I can feel you putting the pieces to my broken heart back together so perfectly. I am no longer feeling sad yet memories of your happiness replays in my mind with the melody of my grandfather’s saxophone playing in the back ground. I feel you speaking to me as crazy as it seems, telling me to only miss you when you are gone and you will never be gone because you will live in our hearts forever so until we meet again to carry on. The bird flies away and a smile comes to my face. I got your message loud and clear.
lightning bolts
from
the
charge of
the
light brigade
march
through
the
clouds
strike the
hearts of men
who
sing out loud
thy
kingdom come
and
thy
will be done
for
of
the
men
who sing out loud
Disliked him instantly
He smelled of cigarette smoke
He was crass and rude and loud
He winked at me making me mad
Then he sat down at the piano
And showed the world what a maestro
can do; he played with the aid of angels
Faeries danced and elves wept
My traitorous feet began to dance
The whole room was swinging and swaying
He winked at several others.
His winking was part of his charisma
He was the puppet master.
My partner and I danced the whole set.
We bought him a beer. We told him how good he was.
He winked at me, and I was no longer insulted.
For he was magnetic, and his playfulness was a joy to behold.