Raucous Poems | Examples

Winter's Return

I hear the gale.
Rain on its tail.
Stock up. Put 'taters in the bin.

A raucous wail.
Tree branches fail.
Winter's fury returns again.

Nature of the Beast

Woodland to saunter
Braced up across hilltops,
Tendrils of leaves curl like locks 
Fresh the mist sprinkling my face. 
An airspray of radiant mist
Flows on her grasses evergreen
Till birdland stirs and whistles.. 
Joy in her field's embrace.

Velvet lays on ground 
My dream-like eyes twinkle, 
While blooms come dancing 
A raucous merry-go-around;
The light tap on the skin, 
Curious heart so ravenous
Through every magical whim.

Somewhere to surrender, 
Melting down my cheeks
Upon the forest floor
The nature of my inner beast 
Drips from thrill of wonder
From rare absence of reason,
A moment where innocence drifts
In wilderness ' arms blessing seasons,
The childlike creature in me
Soars into ladders of  bliss!

Eagle Rock Reverie

Written: August 06, 2025

                     *********
            
The traffic roars as wounded gulls.  
metal beats skated over the asphalt waves, 
each honk a fractured prayer,
fleeing the city, restless breath.

I sit beneath a twisted jacaranda tree.  
Its lavender flowers unfurl as the sun dips low 
Parrots squabble in the canopy— 
boisterous, unrepentant, and singing,  
stirring the dawn with their raucous cries,
a beauty entwined with longing. 

Their melody exists beyond,   
concrete and clocks,

I sip coffee—malnourished warmth—  
Its bitter essence wedged between my ribs,  
where comfort once thrived. 
The chipped cup, a reflection of lost trust.

Each face that passes me
is a silent question,   
I have forgotten how to answer.

Once I skated these streets  
hungry for names,  
for the echo of someone to cram my void, 
But identity remains a fog  
caught between chain-link fences  
and fragrant jasmine vines.

Yet still,  
I listen for that singular voice  
amid the clamorous parrots,  
the one that might beckon me back  
into the wholeness of myself.

ROY'S RIVER RIDE

ROY'S RIVER RIDE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Roy rode
river's rhythm,
raucous ripples rising,
rubbery raft, raced the rapids
riding 'round rocks, rambunctious, rollicking.
Reveling, rascal, river rogue
rushed by reeds, rollicking
rambunctiously.
Roy rode.

Cupid’s Canopy Over Silent Sonnets

Written: July 06, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Craig Cornish

                     *****************

My path was unkempt, with cracked and bent signs
The once-azure sky turned gray, and my muse faded
Cursed seraphs hovered under lifeless skies, weeping. 

In the mahonia mist of nestled truths and lost couplets in periwinkle poetry

I shoved in a cacophonous frenzy, confused— 
Vade mecum was fetid with an epiphany of deceit
Silence echoed dread, and each scab was a guess

Iridescent smears of fervent deceit, 
and Cupid's canopy engulfed the cetacean sonnets
A mocking wind bade shattering moans,
having learned to flaunt their tethered words
With my russet roots, I'm not a flashy flower,
but, I felt awful pain from distant love acronyms.

What if the cloudburst refrain bears no scars? 
Or phosphene verses adorned with blue poppies, 
might leave glowing traces on midnight shores?
I walked for miles to find that starting stanza.

Yet, despite such raucous, cataclysmic pain,
An earthquake faltered the stratus sky—
Not all who veer from the path must shatter
Obsessed, some must comply with the jostle of life.

Forgotten Dreams

remember when the playground slept
in dreams that seldom smiled
the merry-goes and seesaws wept~
few truths were reconciled 

yet still, the empty swings
bade lonely hearts to sit
all wet from early morning dew
and tears from wasted wishes

there was no one to push the swing
and laugh at tethered flight~
we stretched our legs, a song to sing
to snapping wind and kites

what raucous silence joined the din
and danced its dizzy spell
as twilight curtains drew their shade
upon the waning stage

I begged my slumber to be still
imagination tossed~
but dreams will tarry on until
their memory is lost

Bonfire

Flames 
shimmer
like old times --
friends' raucous tales
Glow

Light up the lanterne
Sponsor: nette onclaud
June 17, 2025

Sky Wars

A morning sky blares a raucous anthem.
Bluejays, Magpies and crows
have gathered to defeat the songbirds.
I look East for any signs of massed auks.
The air is dancing, but it's a crazy dance,
a stamping clamor akin to frontline fever.
A battle is coming, the shock troops
are rattling spears in the hedgerows,
fieldmice are digging new trenches
under old roots.
Look! The storm gulls are here,
and they are bringing the ocean with them.

Fall of the Rainbow Bridge

All is burning, cinders and ash
		flakes float in black rain,
		falling on a ground
			of clinkers and flinders.

The hand of ruin traces sigils
		of chaos and strife
		on broken city walls,
		within which rats awaken

They are the true rulers of destruction,
		living cloaked with shadows,
		in any crevice or crack,
		hunting bones and burnt flesh.

Their rivals, jet-black birds,
		massing on heights above
		in their murders
		and raucous unkindness'.

After Ragnarök, the still silence
		is broken by the raspy flutter
		of a million wings,
		echoed chittering of uncountable hordes.

What life is left
		does not weep.

Song unsung

There is a piece I've longed to share,
which, up 'til now, I wouldn't dare,
where courage pushes fear aside
and shackles up my foolish pride... 

To put to words, as much for me,
affection in simplicity,
and say those things I wished I could...
that chance may now be gone for good. 

I near succumbed to COVID's wrath;
now, barricades deny clear path -
a bottleneck for oxygen.
So much to tell; where to begin?

A battle raged; a drawn-out war
that ended with a winning score:
I pulled ahead - a blessed reprieve;
the reaper's gone; yet, still, I grieve. 

For scars remain; we coexist.
Not given up; I will persist,
but dreams? There was one 'mong the few:
to hold you close and sing for you...

A tune that melds our hearts together,
and keeps us warm through stormy weather,
a lullaby to ease all fear
and let you know how much I care. 

But vocals won't cooperate;
on ev'ry nerve the raucous grates. 
Those singing days are done, it seems;
some visions, sadly, dwell in dreams. 

If fate insists that I must wait,
this voice will ring at Heaven's gate!
So, pardon, if I'm way off-tune;
at least, at last, Love will shine through!!



Jodie
5/23/25

A Scintillating Sunrise- POTD

Brandishing the lightning lance, the sun arrives,
The mighty, majestic monarch of the day.
Kissing the mouldy mountain rows, he comes
Banishing mist and frost from night’s blotched brow.

In what rich ruby ring of radiance, he appears 
Smearing and splotching liquid gold, he gracefully moves
With sparkling splashes, the world becomes bright
The prompt and punctual rooster raises his raucous revelry. 

Birds and beasts wake up from their slumberous sleep.
The feathered folks tweet and twitter in harmonious notes.
The verdant vales below send up a welcoming sign.
The leaves stay bright tipped with dainty droplets of dew.

Morn, the bashful, mousy maiden with modest grace,
Peeps and peeks through half drawn curtains in the East.
Removing all trace of a tarnished yesterday,
The day arrives making me smile in burgeoning bliss.

VE Day Eighty Years On

 Exactly eighty years ago today
Came the valiant, victorious VE Day
We celebrate in commemoration 
Of the day that brought each our salvation.  

Amid the joy there is also sorrow
For those who never saw a tomorrow
They had bravely fought for each of our sakes
Staring dangerous missions in the face.    

Let's join together in raucous hip-hop
Dancing till midnight all around the clock
In thanks to all who died, those that survived 
For they are the reason we are alive.

A Grin from Ear to Leer

I wear a smiley face, the sad world to cheer,
With a red smile painted across my face from ear to ear.
My shoes are monstrous, my laugh billows, raucous out loud.
I'm the jester dancing in your face to please the crowd.

But deep within this masked disguise of paint,
Something inside has died, that's neither funny, silly nor quaint.
For the tears painted on my face are not fake but real,
For I cannot shed the dark cloud's doom, and its thunderous peal.

Playing the fool, clowning around is a shield,
For the somber dark sadness felt within and revealed,
When the tears of clowns roll down my painted cheeks.
Warm, wet and fresh, as the sadness within wells-up, and bleats.

Alas, old blog

Alas, old blog, thou dost baffle me
Art thou a banjo short a cord
An off-key piano, tortured
A homeless cat meowing in the dark
A shaken not stirred literary libation
Advertising the talents of its writers
Redundantly raucous rhetoric 
Echoing down a dusty corridor
Gathering the featherless dreams
Of forlorn and wingless words

Raucous Greeting

rowdy
howdy

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