My husband, Bill, snores with great might,
Like a jackhammer drilling all night.
Windows tremble and shake,
No sleep can I take.
Sleep in shed instead with my nightlight.
rough and tumble fight fight fight
F.B.I. show on TV tonight
jackhammer sounds, gunfire too
battling a huge quagmire in blue
bodies flying through the air
grabbing guns without a care
rough and tumble fight fight fight
F.B.I. show on TV tonight
Mustn’t I write once today
even if
I’ve not much to say
It is what I must do
Use a jackhammer
let the pavement vibrate
with my pastel sky sneakers
somehow or another
give the illusion that I can move
the earth
I will be lying on a table
getting a massage
not a nicety. I really,
really need circulation
until I can see the man
with the stethoscope
Helplessly my body
from head to toe
in enmity. Medi…care!
Focused on the thirty day
wait to see new doc
so I can stick out my tongue
and sound like a hypochondriac
will I make his day
or will the cogs in his lids
be going round and round
in his head
Well, seems I’ve said too much
Just wanted to stay in touch
“ahhh….ahhh. My tongue’s red, Doc.”
woody woodpecker had a laugh that carried us through the day
We cheered as he pecked his bill into every tree with a hey hey hey
He was like a jackhammer, this hilarious cutey pie with hair of red
His enemies were flummoxed by him, they tried to make him dead
Passionate Affair
my head throbbed like
a jackhammer in full bore
my eyes felt like pieces of
eighty grit sandpaper
it was another Tequila Sunrise
which was no surprise
when we first met, I was her
bad boy, Desperado type,
she was my Witchy Woman
I was the New Kid in Town,
she was an old hand In the City
we both liked to live
Life in the Fast Lane
we first met at the sleazy, time worn
Hotel California
our love affair set my life
on fire and left me feeling
on top of the world
it all came crashing down
when she said what do we
do After the Thrill is Gone
I knew she was angling for
a way to end it
she finished her drink
cooly stood up and walked out
no word of goodbye nor tear
in her eye
she left a gaping supermassive black
Hole in the World
I was sucked in to the hole
with no chance to escape
tequila was my only relief
I live in hope that
One of These Nights
I will find another just like her
toe nail clipper? she asks. I laugh and scoff.
It’ll take a jackhammer to get these nails off.
They are thick, gristly, harder than a screw.
What about sheep shears? Asks my cousin Lou.
She does not have nails like these wretched claws.
I change the batteries in both of my chainsaws
It has to be done, all my socks have gigantic holes.
I reach for the first chainsaw whose battery glows.
spotted woodpecker
drilling like a jackhammer
tasty morsels grabbed
Pen and paper in hand, words swirling in my head,
Working on my big essay, Sounds and Whispers, and planning.
Buzz, crash, drip, pop, whoosh, splash, bang!
Startling me, what are those sounds?
A phantom mouse, maybe, hiding under my desk.
I’m sure I heard a squeak.
Jumping up, I knock over my cup—splash, it crashes to the floor.
I gasp, arms flailing; my elbow hits a box perched on the shelf,
My eyes follow it, mid-air, SLAM—
The box hits the desk, BOOM.
I stifle a scream, peering at the phantom mouse scurrying around.
I sigh—my heart races.
Thump, thump! Like a jackhammer.
Wet shoes, making SQUELCHING sounds and slipping as I go.
Buzzing, like a tiny plane,
Just as I grab the handle,
A big, black horsefly lands on my hand,
I try to shoo it away—
But SMACK! SMACK! SQUISH!
Crossing the threshold to safety,
That squeak returns; the not-so-phantom mouse, is closing in on me.
Crack, crack and pop, pop, I run,
Chunky little legs carrying me
Out of this nightmare — fast.
woodpecker madness
rat a tat tat rat a tat
jackhammer rhythm
jaunty jack-o-lantern joined
jingly jangly janitors’ July jamboree
jaundiced Jasper, Jack’s jackhammer
juggled and jostled the journey in jovial jollity.
Jovial Jukebox Julep juxtaposed Jasper and Jack’s
jonquils, joining the July Jubilee
Javelin, a jazzy jaybird, jangled Judy’s jaguar,
who jabbered jokingly and jauntily.
Cobbler man spends his days fixing shoes.
Patent leather taps, and work boots too.
When he gets home his wife often complains.
Nothing works there, including two storm drains.
You hammer all day at work, but you cannot do it here?
He nods his head and says “I am too tired, my dear.”
They had to bring another cobbler in with his own hammer.
He fixes things so loudly, it sounds like a giant jackhammer.
Galaxy of stars supplies
signal event in dark skies.
Tall straight pines birthed as light poles
heavens hallow grown-up roles.
Mirrored in the brook below
current venue ceases flow.
Trees denuded of their leaves
while soon empty forest grieves.
Destined now to carry light
to a busy city's night;
poles' inaugurations move
into town when works approve.
Loudly speaks the jackhammer
amid much-needed clamor;
tearing up pathway's veneer
to create an urban sphere.
Rows of trees, now rows of poles
spaced apart so man controls.
Homesick still for forest fog
they learn to cope via smog.
April 17, 2023
A bit of ekphrasis inspired by a photograph of
the Milky Way highlighting a forest of pines,
Star Dreams by Dasha Kern on Deviant Art.
Three men are digging a hole in the ground
Their supervisor is casually standing around
A bystander is not making the slightest sound
No precious pirates’ treasure will soon astound.
Dirt brought up beneath is forming a mound
One says a jackhammer is needed to pound
Hard limestone rock is starting to confound
Six feet down will lie remains of a renowned.
HONORABLE MENTION
Written June 19, 2021
For “This or That, Vol. 4” Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
If you could hear what I do
You would surely have your fill
For I’ve spent the past few hours
Being blasted by a drill.
They’re tearing up the street outside
And that incessant noise
Does much more than just annoy –
Your concentration it destroys.
I cannot hear my music
And believe I’m on the brink
Of relinquishing the brain cells
That I need to stop and think.
There are sounds that are acceptable
But others make you crack
Like the jackhammer outside
Which feels akin to an attack!
Ruth Ann is a subcriminal
Picks up a pen from offices and banks
She did not plan or mean to be a thief
She slides them into her purse without antic or cranks
Unfortunately this habit led to others
She shoplifts clothes, and a jackhammer
She is no longer welcome in homes of her brothers
So sad that she eventually ends up in the slammer
She should have never stolen from Daddy Hank
For his new trophy wife is a huge ugly crank
The family tries to get Daddy to back off,
But all wife-y has to do is give a come-hither-cough
So Ruth Ann ended up behind bars for life
And her daddy is still pleased with his mean trophy wife.
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