Loudspeaker Poems

THE CORRUPT GUTTER

There’s a constant hammering 
Alongside my bedroom window 
Repercussions of a corrupt gutter 

The maddening drain 
Obstinately and persistently has refused
All rehabilitation efforts  

There are no 
drip drip drips
Only 
Pound Pound Pounds
As water clashes with wood and metal 

The clangor must be amplified 
By a loudspeaker 
To make such minute water drops 
Sound like a crazed gongsman
Locked in a metallic chamber with a battle mace

With no distinct pattern 
The piercing pattering 
Thwack Thwack Thwacks
Proclaiming,
“You will find no peace here!”

And yet 
Its constant monotone irritation 
Somehow
Lulls me to sleep

Forked Tongue

Written By:  D. Collins 11/22/23


With war crimes against Putin, we were aggressively absolute.
Yet, seeing cities being leveled, the loudspeaker has gone mute.
I hear this talk about "interests" while women and children die. 
As if the only thing that matters are the lost Israeli lives.


The world consists of many religions and nationalities.
I give credence to them all, not just the Israelis.
They speak of tunnels under Gaza, Hamas use for warfare.
Then, we come to find out the Israelis put them there.


America should really re-assess where it is coming from.
Stop deep-throating and speaking with a forked tongue.
The entire world is watching and totally tuned in.
All empires fall because they were spread too thin.

There Is a Masked Bandit

There is a masked bandit in the produce aisle.
This went over the loudspeaker in the grocery store.
It was my neighbor Whitey, who wants to hide his smile.
He has bad teeth, maybe not even one any more.

I use Covid as the excuse, he told me one time when I thought to ask.
I told him I would love him no matter what,
They coppers came in and demanded to know about the mask.
The police left him alone, I was glad of that!

Bluestocking

"Bluestocking"

Blue blew in 
like the truth
in many different
shades 

one tried 
immersing in 
shades of shadow
but the light was louder

Blue blew in 
like a neon sign
flashing its underside
like a stocking’s ladder

the terminal 
loudspeaker 
for departure 
was like a shot 

of Uranian Blue Piñaq
arriving not soon 
enough, 
knocked back

some kind of 
heady celebration

exits 
arrivals

(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)

Catchy Tune She Lied

What a catchy tune she said.
Lying because she thought it was nice.
He went nuts with this compliment.
Told everyone what she had said.
His relatives called to thank her.
She felt guilty because it was not a good tune at all.

He went up and down the street playing the tune.
He broadcast it with a loudspeaker out his car window.
Her grandma called and asked what to do because he wanted a comment.
Tell him it is great, she lied to her grandma.
So her grandma did.
His relatives also called her to thank her.
She felt smug and happy about it.

He went to the next six counties, playing the tune.
A disc jockey invited him to speak on the radio and play his tune.
He spoke and he was funny; people liked him.
The tune was not great, but he was hilarious.
Other radio stations called him to come speak and share his tune.
His tune went to number one in the county,
then the state, and finally the nation.
All of the people were happy for him, because they liked him.
Most had lied about the tune.
It was not catchy at all.

Besotted Legs and Trampled Shadows

Daddy comes everyday when the twilight
Bifurcates the light into shadows
Like a miscreant, grasshopper
Intrudes into the cracks of walls
Mom became a vociferous loudspeaker
Alcohol staggers inside his belly
Like the movement of snake.. 
He never came that day
Mamma's hand freezed with 
Wheat flour and dough
My rapacious belly was ready to suffer
Starvation.. And I thought
Where did Those besotted legs and trampled
Shadows go? 
It can't go to some other pastures
Some other homes, 
It can't slap some other shoulders.. 
Myopic eyes often started to sew the dress
again enhancing the sartorial elegance.. 
I missed those shadows hued with that 
Of pickles and spirit.. 
Still I proclaimed:
Shadows have gone.. 
Light is yet to come... 
Life is yet to start

If You Are Harboring a Fugitive

Police’s loudspeaker projected all over the neighborhood.
“IF YOU ARE HARBORING A FUGITIVE, TURN 
HIM IN RIGHT AWAY! THERE WILL BE NO
PUNISHMENT IF THE PERPETRATOR COMES 
OUT IN THE NEXT HOUR!”

“Do you think they mean me?” my guest asked.
“Doubtful,” I told her. “You are invisible to
non-believers, right?”

Stegosaurus Faerie breathed a sigh of relief.

The First Sin

An Earther hath said

Adam was a rough draft, Eve

was the final yield

Abel and brother Cain was

the product of their own sin


*The 'Earther' was probably a known feminists as she had a tiny following present along with her. She was outside of a church (she says she's not a member of) espousing the above, constantly, using her natural voice--no loudspeaker, as services were ongoing (I was just a passerby on the way to a funeral nearby). In her repetitious rant, she says that she only wear bras on Sunday's, whereto, 'twas a Sunday and she proved it by wearing her bra outside of her blouse in view of passing children and leering unsaved men. This was in the San Francisco bay area circa 1980, after Moscone/Milk assassinations and Jonestown and prior to acknowledgement of AIDS. They were the saddest years of my life.


Date: 06/14/2019

Indian Floods 2018

“Floods! Floods!! 
Quick! Quick,”
Blared the loudspeaker:
“Just five minutes to flee.” 

Mobiles? ATM cards?
Jewels? Documents? 
To hell with such!

Gathering the kids,
Picking up whatever the hands could hold 
They all fled.

Blood…blood… O+
Quick! Quick!!
Oh, but the religion?
To hell with it!

To be—that is the question!
Religion? 
Nonsense!

*****

Golden Beans

I sometimes have cruel nightmares 
about losses unbearable.
It's like my subconscious 
just sits back planning 
what could really get to me, given that 
ordinary monster nightmares are fun 
and fail to make me wake up feeling horrible.

Elsetimes my subconscious 
seems merely to be writing comedy skits.

Rhonda and I were in some public auditorium 
and I couldn't stop farting. Loudly. 
A notice came over the intercom 
announcing that someone had stolen 
the extremely valuable gold beans. 

"Our golden beans have gone missing," 
said the loudspeaker, 
as a long noisy fart eases out of me. 
I look around and say, "What? 
I didn't take your gawdamn golden beans!" 
FLFLFLFL!!!

The Night Freedom Died

Heritage enclaves of my memory
dissolved away ...
Disappeared the night my freedom died
I woke up the next day,
		my liberty completely necroticized
Seeing my new reality
		     thru dead tyranny zombie eyes
No more freewill;
just a mindless shuffling along,
doing whatever the public broadcast loudspeaker says
Eating maggots of putrid propaganda
	rotting in empty kiosks
The whole democratic terrain
looking like burnt out, overturned dumpster bins
Trash of former protests strewn everywhere:
		Posters, T-shirts, lots of trinkets
Sad scenes of survivalists giving suicide embraces
	to each other in CDC issued blankets
A virulent strain of fascism has swept the land,
a democracy eating pestilence 
Airborne swirls of tattered newspaper — 
remnants of an extinct free press,
	drifts windward towards the sky
As I look uncaring 
	with dead tyranny zombie eyes,
having no recollection of the day before
Not remembering the night my freedom died

Spring Is Coming Soon

Sweet, spring wrap your arms around me,
Place me in an emerald forest, green;
Rain, gently fall and make my world clean-
I run through a wildflower meadow carefree,
Narrow trails beckon me to follow their labyrinthine;
Gamboling, frolicking baby ducks play on a pond aquamarine.

Ice cold storms are gone away,
Such delight- the song of a blue jay.

Cajoling, coaxing mother duck tries to keep order,
Oh, in this nirvana there is no clock . . . 
Melodious forest tunes like a symphony by Bach-
Inside this forest nature blooms in manic disorder
Nearby, on a branch the call of a hawk . . .
Getting tired-  I rest on a sunny rock.

Shasta daisies sway and dance-
Oh, I am a travelling pleasure-seeker,
Oh, flocks of flying birds call to me from a loudspeaker;
Nothing is more beautiful than a spring happenstance . . . 

__________________________
March 18, 2017

Acrostic Rhyme/Spring Is Coming Soon
Copyright Protected, ID 885372 

Spring Is Coming Soon- Acrostic
sponsor, Laura Loo

First Place

The Derby

Through the days of blistering toil.
A murmur of spirit after a blissful
trial.These were the emotions on this
endless day.Minutes later in single
file, were prints from hoofs in the
muddy soil.While easing toward
drudgery and withdrawal.The amazing
thoroughbreds entered their stall.
Jockeys clambered onto their colts.
As they were trained superbly, for
the oncoming derby.While over the
loudspeaker the narrator spoke.
Calling out numbers for only who was
there.Consider a victory and the
triple crown.Ready to gain-gain an
inch of ground.Thoroughbred racing
was the name of the game.Where
hesitating was nothing, and no
one to blame.Where multitudes of
spectators impatiently waited, for the
master racers to open the gate.A
photograph finish ended the race.
Beaten by a length-a length out of
pace.Was the thoroughbred racer
in second place..

The Derby Poem By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1982,1987..ALL rights reserved..

Death of a Christian Science English Teacher

i remember well the name of my 11th grade English
teacher---
Ms. Tominson,
who had been rumored to have given
some of her students
********, during the time when she wasn’t lecturing on
Shakespeare---
perhaps it was the passion in her that
let her go wild after hours,
drinking with her teen pupils &
then sucking them dry---
but what led to her decent into
christian science,
one may never know---
it was a part of her life kept secret,
an insanity that only she knew &
when she fell down her stairs
(or so we were told),
she refused medical treatment,
lying in bed, unable to move,
hoping, no doubt,
for “the good lord’s guidance”---
but it never came,
um, pssst…..
(whispering) because “he” never does
&
she died TWO MONTHS LATER.

when her death was made known to us
over the loudspeaker,
in early morning home room,
those who had been rumored to have been 
pleasured by her,
had conflicted feelings, 
because though they still wanted blowjobs,
they were sad to see her go,
for she was, after all, a good teacher &
a fun person,
despite having been brainwashed by the 
absurdity of Eddy.

Agent Arkansas 90766 Beta (Part 4)

[90766 Log 004]

7/18     20:15

[recored audio]
Nate-- see you on the other side.
Agent-- See you later little bro.
(air let out from the Air-Tight pilot cabin)
BETA-- Multiple hostile forces are in the area
Agent-- What? That's not possible-
(gunfire)
Agent-- Nate! Get the hell out of here.
(return fire)
Agent-- Go! Go! Go!
(engine sounds)
Nate (over loudspeaker)-- We have takeoff.
Good luck out there.
(gunfire stops)
BETA-- Those are gunmen for the Association: Rank 2
Agent-- Why are they here? New Athens is a Federation
city not an Association city.
BETA-- Records indicate a successful Associate siege.
Agent-- So we just walked into an Associate city and 
killed two gunmen.
BETA-- Correct.
Agent-- ...And our only way out just left.
BETA-- Correct.
Agent-- O.K. I'm going to need more than this pistol.
BETA-- There was a Federation barracks half a 
kilometer from here. I'm not sure if it's still there.
Agent-- It's better than nothing...

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