Best Loud Noise Poems
I was changing a tire and the neighbor walked by
Stood and looked a while, then he said Hi
Got a flat? he asked and this made me grin
I said no, just changing the old air and putting new stuff in.
Was coughing and sneezing. My throat was on fire
Got a bad cold? My wife did inquire
No, it's not really bad. It is a good one
I love watery eyes and watching my nose run.
I was on a bus and on my newspaper I sat
The guy next to me asked "Are you reading that"
I said yes. Reading through your butt is all the new rage.
Then I stood up and turned the page.
Dentist hit a nerve and I came up out of the chair
Did that hurt? He asked as though he really did care.
I said no, there was a spiritual woman I used to date
And she was teaching me how to levitate.
I hit a pothole with my car one night
It made such a loud noise it gave my wife a fright
Didn't you see it she began to cry
Of course I did. I hit it. Didn't I.
Once I tripped on one of my little guy's toys
Fell down the stairs and my wife heard the noise
Did you miss a step? She screamed from the hall
I said "No Dear, I think I hit them all."
Clique ... clique
Peer pressure is a gun
Low self-esteem wanting popularity,
gather together in small clusters
Grapes of wrath ... attack anybody
who try to break the bind
Verbal popping every moving target
in the movie theater line
Estrogen cries when the dust clears,
another reject cherry fell off the vine
Teachers can’t separate the sisterhood bond,
boyfriends ain’t nothing but pretty toys
Cat fights and tussles are only loud noise,
a lot of ugly ducklings swimming in the pond
Clique ... clique
Squeeze off another round
Mile high dreams everybody in the group got,
but somebody is creeping ... talking behind their back
A poser is in the midst,
and the leader is gonna handle it
Put a cheesy lip rumor in the mouse trap,
throw a house party and hire a band
Thieving eyes which covets your man,
catch ‘em in the act, give ‘em a double tap
Clique ... clique
Peer pressure is a gun
that’s loaded with angst bullets
And everybody’s been shot by one
Lip blasting every moving target
in the stadium ticket line
Testosterone cries when the dust clears,
another reject berry fell off the vine
Parents can’t separate the brotherhood bond,
girlfriends ain’t nothing but pretty toys
Fistfights and scraps are only loud noise,
a lot of ugly ducklings swimming in the pond
Clique ... clique
Squeeze off another round
Clique ... clique
Peer pressure is a smoking gun
Give your friend a cigarette,
urge them to try one
Clique ... clique
Peer pressure is a smoking gun
Give your friends the bottle of hooch,
urge them to try some
Clique ... clique
Peer pressure is a smoking gun
So hit the brakes hard,
you little Bonnie and Clydes
or your life will be in for
a shoot ‘em up, bang bang ride
a very loud noise
started ringing from my clock—
I fell out of bed
a bumped water glass
rolling across the hard floor—
I slipped on my head
a loud screaming sound
resonated through the house—
my face turned bright red
my husband woke up
hysterically laughing—
I was on the floor
I could not get up
without someone assisting—
ku ku krazy day
I went back to bed
wondering what day it was—
perhaps, tomorrow
Ó April 18, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Written for Poetry Soup Member Contest: ????.....!!!!!.....Ku Ku Crazy......!!!!!.....????
Sponsor Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver
I hesitate to get my cool clean drink this morning.
Something is different. The cold air is the same.
The water is still, I do not sense danger.
There is a lack of sameness however.
I look at my brother and shake my head as he
Starts for the water. He hesitates, his ears come up.
He is listening. I realize for the first time how many points he has.
I had another brother with points like that. Proud, until he was not.
He paws at the ground and gives a rough cough.
I give him a sharp glance. He looks down, shyly.
Not as proud, and I feel ashamed of myself.
He is my little brother. Do I dare let him go first?
The last time I did that, I lost a brother.
With a cough, I let him know I will go first.
Something is wrong; not danger, but something.
Man? I am not sure. If man, a young one.
I step out and take a cool drink. Put my head up.
Sh! Did you hear that?
A loud noise crashes through the meadow.
A searing pain goes through me.
The last thing I see before my eyes close
Is my brother's white tail as he hops over the fence
Back toward the safety of the trees. He does not look back.
I smile, knowing I saved at least one of my brothers.
You may not understand me or the things I do,
and you may not understand why I don't look at you.
You keep telling me I'm playing with my toys wrong,
and you don't know why I only sing one song.
You want me to go out and play with the other boys,
but it scares me when they make that loud noise.
You don't understand why I am different from the rest,
but everyday for me is another test.
I'm sorry my hand doesn't work that way,
you'll get how special I am one day.
My brain is different in the way I think,
but my ship isn't going to sink.
Even though I'm different, I can still cry,
so it hurts when you ask god why?
You just need to pay a little more attention
to this little boy playing in his own dimension.
The happy sound of the coffeemaker.
Or of a welcomed friend’s voice!
Using a real phone, not texting,
You sense her in real time, a true joy
Maybe it is his sensual deep voice?Hmm?
That hungry baritone, whose voice moves
clouds.
Or a toddler’s feet, prancing on the rainy
soggy, ground.
Be so glad you can hear the rain melting
snowflakes on rocks.
Or the street, maybe the loud noise of a
lawnmower, by a fit young teen wearing
emblazoned baseball socks.
How about the music of the late and great!
Steven Sondheim, the brillant song writer
for “West Side Story?”
His lyrics make me feel like I am touching
the magic underbelly of heaven in all my
earthly glory.
Here is something, no poet should ever miss.
Have a poetry lover read to you, one of your
poems aloud, it’s like a hug and a kiss.
I had no idea whatsoever the power my
poems held.
I can tell you, I honestly cried when to
this auditory treasure, I fell.
For me by my poems, I am so very
unimpressed.
Till they were read to me, and my soul
and emotions were undressed.
1/1/2022
Once upon a fairy tale,
Lived a colony of tiny folk
Who decided to set sail,
Because across the pool
Lay greener pastures
Of which they wanted
To become masters.
For tiny folk to cross this pool
Took courage, had to be so
Strong and bold,
Clever little people, none a fool,
Would, take three days, and it
Was Winter, the water icy cold,
Took too much with them in their
Frail small boat,
Only twenty carefully got in,
Pioneers, ready to make history,
The leader thought.
So off they set, across foreign water
Three families of extended kin!
Suddenly a loud noise and high waves,
Rocked their boat, they had no control
Rover the Labrador had jumped
Into the pool,
A tsunami capsized them, they chocked,
Spluttered, but hung onto their boat,
And thus they kept afloat.
Then they saw Rover,
His mouth wide open, he scooped
Them up gently as they
Rested on his tongue, strangely they
Were unafraid for they had seen
Rover across the pool playing on
Pastures green,
This Labrador wanted to play
To while his time away,
But instead saved them from drowning,
Took them back from whence they came,
And slowly lay them down
Rover the Labrador had earned his fame,
He barked and wagged his tail
These little humans spoke and run
And cried and laughed, he
Loved them straight away
The tiny adventurers, did not fail
They were happy living beneath a
A large green bush, with little homes
Made out of sticks and leaves,
Right now these little folk
Were safe, but remain a mystery,
Only Rover knew and he could
Never tell,
Where his new found friends dwell!
And the moral of this tale,
Is things are not always greener
On the other side,
Rather hold on to what you
Have, with pride.
I have a fluffy cat named Snuggles. She is total tranquility- at peace with
herself and the world, but, oh my gosh, she is one lazy cat who lives by her
own rules . . . when I do yoga, so does she- does a good Happy Baby Poise.
she sleeps 90% of the time (on a pink blanket in the center of my bed)
she meows, one meow when I touch her
but is quiet most of the time
she never eats too much at a time
but eats a lot over time
has piles of toys that she ignores
except the squeaky ones (at night)
sometimes hisses (not sure why)
she rules me . . .
likes to lie on her back with her feet in the air (Happy Baby Poise)
checks under the kitchen sink once a day
stands in the bathtub (not sure why)
drinks from my tea cup
wraps herself up in my front door carpet
helps at the computer by sitting on my keyboard
enjoys the sun curled up in my in box
has been known to eat bugs on the porch
and flower petals and leaves (that make her tummy upset)
gives me kisses in bed
licks and rubs her face in my long hair (purring)
takes up most of the bed by stretching out as long as possible
never, ever eats people food
runs away when she hears a loud noise
does only what she wants and when she wants
rules mean nothing to her
loves visitors from a distance
treats are tops in her opinion and she needs them often
sleeps pressed against me on the sofa as I watch television
gives me unconditional love
and I love her to pieces . . .
____________________________
July 23, 2019
Poetry/List/List-regarding my CAT
Copyright Protected, ID 19- 1168-341-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
The Mill wheel wouldn't turn until the Spring.
Covered in ice from the frigid Winter freeze,
no production until the ivory dove does sing.
The town wondered what nature would bring,
so no one walked around with reposed ease.
The streamlet was frozen and along the shore
they found messages in bottles from the past.
Some had never seen anything like this before.
Whispers ran through the town from door to door,
and the meanings of these messages were asked.
No one spoke truth about these strange words,
they all denied knowing about them in fear.
Shaken up by this calamity the town was stirred,
they were told their messages would be unheard.
Just then a loud noise approached from near.
Ice melts, revealing secrets- wheel creaks
though the upcoming Spring hadn’t yet arrived.
Everyone stops in silence and no one speaks,
the snow stops falling and the ivory dove shrieks-
Lightning strikes the Mill wheel, and no one survived.
One, nine, sixteen v3.0 Poetry Contest
July 20, 2019
I have an old, fat calico cat. Her days are numbered but she does not care. She is
total tranquility, at peace with herself and the world. A good example for the rest
of us I think, but oh my gosh, she is one lazy old girl who lives by her own rules . . .
she sleeps 90% of the time
(on a pink blanket in the center of my bed)
she meows, one meow when I touch her
But is quiet
She never eats too much at a time
But eats a lot over time
Has lots of toys she ignores
Watches the kitten from afar
And sometimes hisses when things get crazy
but she rules and not just the kitten
Likes to lie on her back with her feet in the air
Checks under the kitchen sink once a day
Stands in the bathtub (not sure why)
(I have a foot stool at the side of the bed)
And she steps on it to get on the bed
Loves to drink water from my glass
Wraps herself up in my front door carpet
prefers my chair
Enjoys the sun on the porch
Has been known to eat bugs
And flower petals
(That make her tummy upset)
Gives me kisses
And licks my ear
Is fascinated with my long hair
takes up most of the bed
Never, ever eat people food
Runs away when she hears a loud noise
does only what she wants
Rules mean nothing to her
Hates visitors
But will eventually say hello
Treats are tops in her opinion
And I don't care if she is fat
and old, and sometimes sleepy
I love her to pieces
So, in ending, I have two cats, one is a fat old calico that is tranquility and one is a
little grey kitten, that is stress. But I love both of them equally. And I know they
love me with everything they have in their hearts. Those eyes do not lie.
______________________________
June 14, 2015
Poetry/List/The Old Fat Cat
Copyright Protected, ID 15-682-087-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym
Submitted to the contest, No Rules,
sponsor, Rob Carmack
Seventh Place
A Clown in a Class
In a class sit all the students
Cheering up for every moment
A terrible noise the students make
When a boy makes a joke shake
Bad boys let their life at stake
And then it happens;
In a class stands the teacher
Getting angry on every bad creature
When he speaks the whole class crumbles
Into a loud noise of screams and laughter
He’s like a clown to the class
The one on which the whole class laughs
He stands in the class like a clown
On his back a big black gown
On which it is written “I am a clown”
He teaches the class in every way
But they get worse everyday
He jumps and falls on the ground
With his crooked nose turned round and round
He acts as a King
And wears the crown
But he’s some old string
From out of the town
____________________________________________________
It was the last period.
The breezy school day was almost done.
Mrs. Johnson and her English class relished
Getting a restroom break and a bit of sun.
They were gathered on the gazebo.
Antonio and Ned were poking fun.
Sometimes even a laugh
can start a great big one!
"Fight," Angelina screamed.
Who came running? Everyone!!
The fighters were swinging-going wild.
Go for help Mrs. Johnson called - run.
But before security could get there-
Thank God nobody had a gun,
There was a loud noise
Like someone
Was blowing up
a giant cushion.
Mrs. Johnson's face was swelling.
She was moving upwards in a strange fashion.
She looked like she weighed a ton-
Or perhaps better said she looked like
A humungous silver balloon
headed toward the sun.
She floated away and of course
as they always say
To this very day
No one has seen her since. Period.
Two years ago she came here to live.
I wanted a pet, I had love to give.
But this one was different from those before.
She needed patience ... a lot ... and more.
She'd been abused, she trusted no one.
A loud noise or quick movement and off she'd run.
It seemed like forever before I heard her purr,
before I could enter a room without making her stir.
She did not play, she did not trust.
So my goal to win her over, it was a must.
It's been a long haul and I'm happy to say
my fat little feline now loves to play.
She greets me affectionately all the time now
and once in awhile she will even meow.
Honey is home, it took a while 'til she knew
that she was now safe and she was loved too.
She's one contented kitty who can now live out her life
without fear of abuse or neglect or strife.
She's totally different now, as anyone can see
but did I rescue her ... or did she rescue me
I am Canine lupus familiaris
Known as dog
Man’s best friend
Someone to fetch
Someone to catch with
Someone to walk
Since I cannot speak
I watch and listen
I also watch my master drink sour water from cans
As he and his friends laugh
Their shrill laughter becoming louder and louder
Their voices hurting my ears until I leave the room.
One week master was excited
The phone rang constantly
A jarring message
A three day weekend
More sour water
More loud noise
Then suddenly I was left alone
Quickly and firmly
The door closed to me
At first I was glad for the silence
My eyes grew accustomed to the dark
Hungry, I searched the house
Found food and some water
I could smell the bags of dog food in the pantry
But it was no use
I couldn’t unlock the door
But I was brave
I didn’t panic
I made do with what I had
I conserved what little food was left in my doggie bowl
I drank water only when needed
I pooped in the bathroom
Like my Master always did
But it wasn’t enough
By the third day the water was gone
The doggie bowl empty.
When the door opened three days later
Master walked in
Sour water on his breathe
Short angry hissing words escaped his lips
When he found me
Alone and hungry
Rubbing his face
More short words followed
Anger directed at himself for neglecting me
Then he hugged me
Suddenly there was water
There was food
Looking up at him
My eyes told him
My father was the Wolf
From the frozen North
My mother the She Wolf
Who ruled the forest
And guarded the wolf dens
I came from strong genes
I learned how to survive.
It is not easy to happen upon them,
Pure nymphs in their natural beauty.
It happened to me only once when
I was resting beneath a red sunset maple,
As the summer hear began to soar.
A stone throw away was a lively stream
Around which grew in flower
A clump of Crape Myrtle Dwarves.
The breeze blew softly carrying
Some mellifluous melody,
Whilst nubile gorgeous maidens,
Laughing merrily frolicked
An amorous intense folk dance.
Then some loud noise disturbed the peace.
And all disappeared out of sight.
Was it a dream?