Best Noisy Poems
A noisy House
Banging, clanging
screaming, squealing
babies crying
Mothers shouting
Keep quiet!
Dancing, singing
jumping, thumping
grannies munching
Mothers shouting
keep quiet!
Chatting, laughing
clapping, slapping
children scratching
Mothers shouting
keep quiet!...........
I sit here
in this noisy house
in a far corner
as quiet as a mouse
With pencil and book
and Ipod in ears
writing my poems
where nobody cares.
Charming patterns surround us,
whispering in
shadows of our lives.
Born as thoughts, painting our dreams
with landscapes
of greens, purples, reds;
abstract colors bursting onto our canvas.
Patterns chase us through
fields of watercolor wildflowers,
down slopes of wind-blown grasses
of lavender-tipped gold.
We find them in balmy, cotton clouds, wind-carved rocks,
and moss-covered stones
kissed by noisy waters.
They sometimes ride on a butterfly's wings,
often found in new flowers, a child's face,
a leaf turned up, where a ladybug hides.
Charming patterns: mysterious looks they wear,
they cause us to question, to wonder, to imagine.
Both elegant and bold, charming patterns always present
puzzles to unwind,
stretching our minds.
this noisy head i live in
it just never quiets down
theres some motherf#@ker screaming at two am
about some unpaid bills or parking tickets
and some other idiot going on and on about some girl that left
somebody is allways throwing trash out in the common area
little bits of some ancient relationship
small parts of some old mystery
just want to tell em all ''will you all please shut up"
stop that godawful freakin racket
some fool on the roof shouting poetry just when your drifting off to sleep
another idiot in the basement throwing monkey wrenches in the works
always somebody causing some kind of ruckus
just want to scream
"can we PLEASE get some peace and quiet for five minuets"
this crazy head i live in
i want to move
to some nice quiet country house
where you never hear a sound
peaceful with birds chirping
where i can get some rest
not this confounded noisy head i live in
not this apartment building of lunatics i call a mind
Noisy River Bank
Sitting on a river bank, tryin to catch a catfish
Lookin up at the stars, I began to make a wish.
Well, my worms are dead and the fish won’t bite
When I heard a strange noise echo through the night.
At first there was a squeak and then a squawk
Then there was silence and nothin at all.
I figured a mouse being chased by an owl,
So, I decided to stay and listen for a while.
A mosquito lit on the top of my head
I slapped and missed and wished he was dead.
The only bite I was getting was from a yellow fly
When something scared me and I thought I’d die.
An old bull frog croaked at my feet
And I jumped for a stick and began to beat.
Well I reached for my pole leaning on a stake
Lord, wouldn’t you know it, there laid a snake.
Well he hissed at me and I cussed at him
I told him I’d get him, so I cut me a limb.
Of course, at that time, I got a bite on my pole
I just forgot about the snake curled up in the hole.
I grabbed my pole and began to real
All that trouble and danger for a gosh darn eel.
I decided to leave at that point and time
So, I left with nothin but a half-scared mind.
Sun is silent
Noisy rain!
There was a young knight from St. Stephen,
Whose behaviour was decidely uneven,
His raucous parties all night
Caused the locals such plight,
Some preferred him not to be breathin .
Noisy Little monkey
Techno junkie, clever monkey
Australopithecine
Habilis in magic mist
Little Lucy's dream
Swingers in city sky
*****erectus being
sunlit opposing thumbs
sad bipedal thing...
Flint knapper back stabber
rapping dancer man
tippers, dark skin tappers
ancient mountain clans
Neanderthal folk dying oak
river crashing sounds
rumbling in that stormy pass
above ancestral ground
Searching warming grass
Silent monkeys dared
Invented gods of love and fear
hung them in the stars
Remember fingers in winter corn
Oh warriors of the plain long lost
Sapient kings of a dying earth
just shadows in approaching dusk
Form:
Just a thin wall dividing my headboard from the john,
every night it played me a continuos running water song,
so got up and closed the valve,
my problem now temporarily solved,
posting a note on the lid, "don't resuscitate until dawn!"
Grunt, grunt, grunt, bray, bray, bray,
I couldn't get my nap today,
Cluck, cluck, cluck, bark, bark, bark,
I shut my eyes when it was dark,
But- moo, moo, moo, bleat, bleat, bleat,
How can this farmer get to sleep?
I know, I'll put some ear plugs in,
Snore, snore, snore, grin, grin, grin.
Caleb is a noisy boy
With a lot of noisy toys
Like cars that "vroom", "boop" and "crash"
And video games that "boom", "fwoop" and "splash"
He's got air planes that "swoosh" and "swish"
Even has bath toys that bubble like fish
He had a balloon that would soar and whistle
Until it went "pop!" upon a thistle
He bounces his balls up and down the hall
And throws his darts against the wall
He even likes the chatter of checker pieces
And the games he plays with all my nieces
And my nephew, making muscle dolls wrestle
I mean "action figures", they snap like pretzels
And he's not too old to enjoy V-tech
Because he can add his own sound effects
Hissing like snakes, buzzing like dirt dobbers
Now he does war games, cops and robbers
He shoots cap guns "pow", "pow", "pow" in rhythm
We see the enemy and he says, "Let's get 'em!"
Yes I play too, but not as much as he wants
I give out more easily, his energy haunts
Just when I think he's tuckered out like a church mouse
He's screaming and jumping on me in the house
From 6 a.m. until late at night around 9
I love his noises because Caleb is mine
chocolate covered nut,
was my neighbor
and crazy as a loon
banged on his pots and pans
each night
while howling at the moon
disturb me once more, I thought
and I will teach you well
with noise so horrific
you'd rather be in h_ll!
he did not heed my warning,
and howled on night and day
so I set my alarm for 3AM
sure I'd get my say
I pointed mighty amplifiers
out my windows old
I opened up said windows,
I did not fear the cold
so it's noise you want? I muttered
so angry and so sick,
pushed down my organ's "on" button,
and gladly heard it click
now my mighty organ would rumble
with sounds so awful you would run
discordant notes I blasted
volume pedal pushed full gun
the roar was long and frightful
my own ears began to bleed,
but I'd teach this momma mucker
what he must surely need
so my windows, they did shatter
as did his and others' too
but I kept my keys depressed
I even used a shoe
now a sound this bad, I understand
can waken up the dead
so sure enough I rumbled on
pain swelling in my head
and there among the mists of night,
a thing most to dread
so eerie- scary and more
appeared the ghost
of my long lost love
my most beautiful Lenore
she did not look so pleased
and in her hand she held
a pot to brain my noggin',
until from it silence was finally bled
I gasped, I chocked, I whimpered
frightened out of my very wits
and if you checked my underwear
you surely would find ____z
so i stopped, and she was gone
my neighbor still banging gong, gong, gong!
only now when he does this
I smile and join along
I sit and howl, and drivel
banging gong, gong, gong, gong, gong!!!
My clock is ticking on the wall
Keeping me awake
It seems it doesn't care at all
That it's getting rather late
Tick Tock!
Tick Tock!
Coming from the clock
I may just have to take my clock
And throw it off the dock!
A horse of course
Can find the source
To whinny with
Such great force,
This force of course
Can make him hoarse,
Let's hope he doesn't
Suffer equine remorse.
a noisy evening
the birds complain
of the cat
You have the hysterical look of mutes
that roar through narrow straws.
I see in your yellow eyes – a Jules Verne winking moon.
Soon that ribbed pink cave will release
another flock of demented coots
hacked from the craw of an ancient macaw.
Soon the whip of your vocal squawks
will pluck my eyes from their trembling stalks.
Maine Coon, part Persian, part whiskery herring,
grimalkin mouser,
I love you not when you sing.
Verne goes to the movies, a flickering French theater
of painted malarkey, where mice threaten to Can-Can.
Buck Rodgers shoots rays of hyperbolic sound
from the open nozzle of your mouth.