nonstop cicadas chirp
cloudy moonlit night
summoning rain to dry land
evening cicadas attenuate their song, echoing the summer I learned how to grieve.
blazing sun in fields
cicadas hum in the trees~
heavy air stands still
dust clouds rise and drift
fields of wheat bow to the wind~
air humid and stiff
heat waves waltz on roads
cool water runs in the creek~
daylight holds its load
warm twilight now sprawls
stars blink in the velvet night~
tall shadows on walls.
Suffocating heat
Cicadas deafen my ears
Soundtrack to summer.
When you licorice listen the quiet is loud
Many voices are heard and many sounds
The car rushing down black street
Needs a muffler it rumbles so unique
The hum of electronic waves in the air
Do you hear it as well do you even care
Always hear my heart beat like drum
Is it tinnitus the cause of this hum
I can hear cicadas singing their songs
Nothing to be afraid of all night long
When I walk I hear my yellow footsteps
My shoes on and off makes the sound swell
I hear the baby cry across the way
Perhaps he is hungry or thirsty today
I hear the keyboard as I teal type
I am alone and so alone I write
Do we take time to hear each other
Despite differences we’re sisters brothers
Listen to the unique violet voice inside
That swells like the ocean moonlit tide
NOCTURN
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
cicadas gather…
perspicuous serenade
sung in native tongue
Cicadas Hiku 38
c a d a
i s
b u z z i n g c
•------
•------
on v e r d a n t l t r e e s~
e a f y / \
/ \
n ~a ~t ~u ~re `s s -w -e e –e - t s ~u ~m ~m ~e ~r s –o –n –g –s.
Air getting humid
Summer peaks around corner
Cicadas singing
Tree huggers playing soft melodies into the night
seventeen-year wait
cicadas’ sweet serenade …
tinnitus is cured
My heart beats in my ear
I hear my happiness I hear my fear
This steady sound is like a drum
And is beating now so I hum
To the beat of my brain
Seems music is no strain
Did I choose it or it chose me
Like the sound of dancing feet
The sound of love in a voice
Furry and soft colorful and plush
The sound of a baby breastfeeding
And of the mothers heart bleeding
Sounds of rodents in the green grass
Devouring green garden running fast
Sounds of life giving cherry chase
Sounds of hot tea being pored the taste
Sounds of the cicadas near sugar creek
Sounds of the deer walking gracefully
Sounds of the river sky flowing
Sounds of life being lived by beings
Cicada Dreaming was told to Roland Robinson in 1965 by Julia Charles of the Yoocum Yoocum clans from the area around Wollumbin in the headwaters of the Tweed River, Northern NSW and is used with permission.
Tiny Dreamtime children, imprisoned in the earth,
pierce the little tree roots to sip sap beneath the dirt.
For seven years, cicada grubs, as they scratch and dig,
keep getting so much bigger that they pop off their skins.
The final time they’re off and up: up a fence, up a trunk, up a shed.
Kids collect the shells they leave, stuck with claws on curling feet.
Buzz, buzz, buzz: cicada wings brush past my nose.
Their raucous chorus is a non-stop drone.
A thousand bodies cling on sticks and twigs and leaves.
Above my ringing ears their yellow wee rains down me.
Every year they deafen us. The noise is really bad -
crying for their mothers, screaming for their dads.
But, this year there are - none.
I’m surprised that I feel sad.
Where have the mad things gone?
Yellow Mondays, Green Grocers,
Black Princes, Cherry Noses -
Much as they annoy me,
I hope that they’ll be back.
Chirping of the birds
Cicadas tymbals vibrate
Songs of the Summer
Throughout the day of torrid heat
As twilight draws its curtain down
Cicadas make music pulsing beat
Melody of summer throbbing sound.
Together chorus of seasonal refrain
Resonance through midnight air
When summer rain soaks their domain
Insects will hide who knows where.
Where do they shelter from downpour?
Crawl under green leaf it's not forever
Music is silent sun is the cure
With patience, they wait on kindly zephyr.
However, when clouds have rolled away
All is clean and blossoms bloom
Cicadas are ready they begin to play
Age-old music their summer tune.
The buzzes I hear coming from next door
Cause this old man's blood pressure to soar
After they waited seventeen long years
Time for the summer cicadas is here
Shrill chirping voices do not bring me cheer
Loud scissoring buzzing makes me crazy
Searching for love, they sure are not lazy
By midday I am completely exhausted
My brain is befuddled, think it's all hazy,
Next time, I won't be here to be accosted.
written June 13, 2021
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.