THE BABY WHO CRIED WAY TOO LOUD
There was a baby in Kochi town,
In a cradle of wood, lying down,
Who wailed “oh shi!” with endless might
, And won the medal for loudest cry!
His voice rang out both far and near,
Through Gujarat streets, Jaipur clear,
It echoed in Delhi’s bustling bazaar,
Like thunder booming from afar.
He cried and cried, the people prayed,
For silence, peace, a calm cascade.
His mother stuffed her ears with care,
Cotton buds to save her hearing there.
Crowds arrived from far and wide,
To see the baby’s sonic tide.
Windows cracked, bangles broke,
As if the earth itself had spoke!
James the tourist came to see,
His ears bled from the baby’s plea.
Aunt poured oil to soothe the pain,
But still the cries began again.
At last, on day six, came the cat,
Catter the clever, catty cat.
She leapt inside the cradle bed,
And massaged the baby’s neck instead.
The baby paused, began to purr,
It loved the gentle paws on fur.
And after a decade, peace was found,
returned to the village ground.
That wall, friend, we leapt
Time's, fainter to stray
Naughtiest children bragged of!
Home; furthest away!
"Nothing of danger
Its hair-raising threat
But is, if stealthy and slow
With full consent met."
Time, once taunted, laughed at
Limits, street-lit, leapt of
Whose own, this one, as to it
Now, in a stoop, does bow.
Heathen child, in swoon of life
In the moment's worship!
Creaking more conscious of whom
Vengeful symptoms endow.
Flickerwing the fairy,
bright as morning dew,
leapt onto Whiskerwood’s warm, soft back
and off the two friends flew.
Through silver-shadowed treetops
they scampered, swift and sly,
switching petals, stirring giggles
beneath a velvet sky.
And when the moon grows mellow
and fireflies rise to chat,
Flickerwing starts her mischief
on the back of the moonlit cat.
I went into the movie theater with Joe
The plot drew me in, I went with the flow
The hero had flaws, the heroine was odd
Suddenly I leapt up and shouted "Oh God"
The emotional blowtorch had let out a blast
A reminder of my sickening past.
Joe led me outside to the cool evening air
He asked, "what possessed you to disrupt in there?"
My reaction died down, the alarm turned off
I looked around, gave an embarrassed cough.
Joe said "There's a psychiatrist down the road"
I replied, "No doctor can lighten this load."
I said that edges are blunted, when reality is stark.
I live in a watercolor picture rather than sharp
Joe downplayed my past, but looked sad:
he said "your shouting makes us look mad"
So I'll go without Joe to the movies, that's where I feel:
Maybe in that false world I briefly get real.
A cage opens that routine shuts tight
I can return to darkness when they turn on the light.
Joe and I can go fishing, that's still alright.
Sure he will linger, this long.
Not just in memory
Distant; earthly;
As sees him live out again
Whose sense no feelings sustain
Days; endlessly!
Child. With all that term implies.
With a heart, carefree-leapt
Soul, joy-adept;
God's friend was. Who'll in Heaven
Quickest for whose gates open
More love accept!
werewolf central arrived in the form of an army
these soldiers were bulky, hairy and swarthy
we were terrified, since we are much smaller than them
Don’t be fearful said an old werewolf Clem
We did not come to harm, we came to save
We do not believe that anyone should be a slave
That night the werewolf militia saved us all
Halloween night in 1992, October, the fall
We owed them a debt of gratitude
Wanted to feed them, but they weren’t in the mood
Good thing since they are voracious carnivores.
They leapt away, each one on all fours.
My svelte bushy tailed cat, Hamilton, whose praises I laud,
leapt onto my lap and purred in a jittery fashion because,
a whiff of marked shift in daily routine,
she did pick up from my nonverbal long body waves,
each earnest habit once set in stone an absent without trace,
my darling pet so alert would detect the slightest tweak,
and spell out how the goal post now astir smelt fishy,
Hamilton, a character so utterly oozes otherworld charm,
as is the wont of divine feline species beyond limit,
and with impishness a constant in the past this pet of mine,
would latch on to each prized item as if driven to whisk them away,
that guilt free shrewd smirk infernal innocent methinks,
why me no I wouldn’t bug, irk, upset one so precious as you,
or tear at your tender heart haphazardly in an inane quest,
for nose-rubbing notice, deep bond playful jest,
as I peer in awe at that dainty trot whilst on the prowl,
a misty eyed me recalled her fond cat laugh bag of tricks,
yet to hear a taxi outside beep is a less than warm reminder,
that I must depart though unwilling from Hamilton’s grasp,
bursting into a sob as she stared from the stair top
The Door
Kevin Davis 2026
The door was closed when I stepped in the room,
what waited behind it — joy or quiet doom?
I longed to open it, see for myself,
With no one to ask and no counsel to help.
No whisper of sound from the other side,
no glimmer of light from the threshold to hide.
But still I was curious, wanting to know,
Certain something was amiss in the shadowed glow.
I studied the knob — the keyway was bare,
no bolt in the lock, no latch to declare.
So, I gripped it gently and turned to the right;
It moved without effort and opened to sight.
The room was as dark as a moonless night,
and nothing within it gave shape to my fright.
I steadied my breathing before stepping through,
when a voice behind asked, “What are you trying to do?”
I leapt in the air and spun toward the sound,
A towering figure, a ghoul, standing ground.
“I meant no intrusion, no harm, no offense
Just curious wandering, nothing intense.”
The ghoul gave a laugh, warm, rumbling, free,
“No harm was done — come look with me.”
He flicked on the lights and welcomed me in,
A room wide and pleasant, inviting within.
My svelte bushy tailed cat, Hamilton, whose praises I laud,
Leapt onto my lap and purred in an agitated manner because,
they knew something had changed, her life altered,
things would not be the same from then on,
cats sense these things at once, they sense what is happening,
and will act at once without the slightest delay,
Hamilton, a character so utterly charming,
as the feline of the species can be,
how many times in the past did she,
whisk away things belonging to me,
and that guilt free smirk so innocent methinks,
why me no I wouldn’t steal and hide your books,
or tear them to shreds just to draw,
attention and dare me to play with her,
the way she crept in that dainty trot whilst on the prowl,
her antics were legion and so were her cat laugh tricks,
but she cast a fix stare and whined so loud,
the taxi outside beeped, hamilton knew I was going away,
It touched me so as I slowly detached from her tense clasp,
I waved to this pet of mine tearfully as she stared from the window
I found him in a box of dust-soft relics,
a face blurred by time yet bright with family and memory.
From brittle scrapbook pages, his life unfolded-piece by piece,
his story rose—a German farm boy who fled Dorn,
the sailor who leapt into Gulf-dark waters, swimming
toward Galveston Bay and the faint glow of a future he hoped to claim.
Texas shaped him with love, labor, and loss,
eight children rooting his family deep into new soil.
Dusk pooled in the attic around me, his courage moved
through our family line into my own bones~a quiet inheritance.
*You may find the accompanying memoir vignette at poetrysoup.com/short_stories/the_stranger_in_the_box_13607
I was minding my own business one day,
sipping coffee, scrolling calmly,
feeling young enough to outrun time
and maybe even sassing it a little.
Then~
without warning,
without paperwork,
without even the courtesy of a calendar alert~
age leapt out from behind a houseplant,
tapped me on the shoulder,
and whispered,
“Surprise… you’re the same age as old people now.”
I gasped
then glanced around.
There must be some mistake.
They must’ve meant someone creakier, crankier,
someone who voluntarily discusses fiber.
But no~
the mirror nodded,
my knees filed a complaint,
and my back muttered,
“I was expecting you.”
And that’s how it happened:
one quiet day,
one innocent moment,
and suddenly~
I was my own timeline punchline.
I was minding my own business~
the next thing I know
I’m the same age as old people.
EEGADS!
Preserving what's best in us
Is, Lord of Heaven
But to reanimate it
Child's born with spirit.
Merrier for that wild fire
Your home above then.
Brightest of loosed energy!
Earth's! Leapt playfully.
Three squirrels in galoshes
went splashing down the lane~
one wearing red, one yellow, one purple,
all dancing in the rain.
They leapt across the puddles
with a whoosh and a watery plop,
till the storm itself grew jealous
and begged them all, Please stop!
But squirrels don’t take orders,
especially not from weather~
so they twirled in their bright galoshes
and splashed off together shouting,
You don’t bother us weather!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
aging,
like autumn leaves,
fading grace beneath weight,
I shuffle, fragile, yet rooted,
time bends.
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