The look of one abandoned
Blown, and screechy, through
A rouge's aired haunt, to.
Yet no discomfort therein
Prowls, as well, thought-free
Wonderment's, knows he.
No such lifeless heat-pulsed void
Nothing inhabits.
Whose unimpeded view flits
Screechy hazed away!
And mistake not those ripples
Creeked and grassed a-gleam
For a wind's own stepped cheer-beam.
Eel and snake out-splay.
Superman's demise is his kryptonite
With the ability to weaken and destroy
But a worse fate exists in this fight
With a greater ability to totally annoy
I'm referring to a whitish nightmare
Often used to package boxes in care
The noise is such a wonderful scare
Loud screeching please don't dare
The very thought puts me into fright
Though masses eat off it in delight
Terrifying noises with no end in sight
Brought too close it will cause a fight
Eliminate this plague I beg you please
It's no more than a screechy disease
Meant to totally annoy in many degrees
My noisy kryptonite for everyone to see
Styrofoam oh do I utterly loathe thee
I wish the entire world would also agree
Horrible noise bringing me to my knees
From you I really want to completely flee
I hear noises no one else can hear
at two a.m. I woke up my husband dear
there is something alive in the middle room
I cannot sleep there; he takes out a broom
Comes back later to reassure me
Nothing is in there that I hear or can see
I take his word for this and go back inside
There’s something noisy, and it sure can hide.
It makes noises like it is punching its way out
I wake up my husband with a screechy shout
He investigates and the creature is quiet as the dead
I refuse to go back in there or use that bed
grating sky noises
elongated screechy scream
clamoring airplane
destroying silence
threatening my peace of mind
in flight path daily
I’ve a box of never’s
Slightly used
Some just lightly touched
Others quite abused
For never is an endless moan
A screechy thing lacking tone
A chewing dog without a bone
Each never a curse eternal
Debates its choices infernal
Made in moments nocturnal
By youth neither “pat” or “mat”ernal
Yet there are things worse than the “nevers”
Those fevered, forgotten “forevers”
Caught in a moment that severs
The fulcrum from that which it levers
So if you’ve a choice
And a sly silky voice
You may make of the “never’s”
“forevers”
Pack them up tight
Keep’em way outta sight
Lest they stop by for a visit
…At night
That wicked old witch made me the Tin Man
Sans a heart, I'm like a rusty tin can
I creak like a screechy hinge
Making my many friends cringe
A spritz of oil keeps me going again
This sound you are making
A fiddler plays.
A screechy joy. If one
That's highly strung!
Did you know that? Know this.
Boy, when a man
Chopin's weepy keyboard
A heart will hoard.
Kind of person who is never fun
Her voice is always perpetually one
It is forever screechy and loud
You can usually hear her in every crowd
Septuagenarian Serenade
By Sy Roth
It wants to warble a fine tune
It wants to fill the night with a pleasing glissando
Rising and sliding into joyful jig
Instead, the brittle vocal chords are ill-defined wolves
Howling at a laughing moon, a dismal lunarscape
Ripe with lingering pains engraved in time
A dusty bin filled with some dismal memories
Working hard to shake out the motes that were in their eyes
Tearful threnody of movement closer to the door.
It wants so desperately to dance that two-step
A pas de deux of clever invention
But the hip sings a screechy declaration
Voids the temptress to ignore the mirrors
That auger the realities of time
Begs for the release of the agents of calamity
Where upturned carpets, lost spectacles
Dings on the fenders of vehicles long past
And missed names and familiar faces fade.
The song will have to remain in the head
Whirling from broken synapse to broken synapse
And the eyes will have to tell them the story of desire.
Falling through pompous poems, spiraling
Slippery sinking, rhyming rolling
In down directions, foreign for me
Cascading in chalkboard screechy sounds
Hanging by nails that can catch and clasp
Clinging to hollow hopes once grasped
Sliding sorrows, long lost dreams dashed
Descending dusty thoughts that propel
Nothing now left of me, you can tell
Like rowdy teens all running for a bus
The gulls have seen the merest hint
That someone threw a crust
An unwanted scrap from Pret
The bottom of a wrap or the final soggy
Mouthful from a keytchup spattered bap
Sending fifty feisty squabbling birds
All rising in a screechy flap
Just the first arrive in time to dive
And wing away their beak-caught prize
Towards the winter water skies
Chased by the nearest losers.
The rest resettle in their line to wait again
Another time the unpredictable arrival
Of a sandwich part way munched
In the office lunch timetable.
A radio aired an awful auld aria,
Astounding all my aged aural edifices
In eerie aura of araucaria trees
Aching angrily in a loud typhonic breeze.
My brain wanted to burrow to escape the pain
Of sounds as a warren of rabid jackrabbits
Digging to escape mangy slobbering coyotes
Howling hungrily in panting pursuit of prey.
Such a scratchy song, if played in the briny deep,
Would chase crazy-eyed kraken to the mountain tops.
Callas, Verdi and Puccini would flee their graves
For a screechy symphony of barbed wire sitars.
Praise be! The off button my shaking hands did find;
I woke up, pressing on my belly button hard.
I was looking up at the ferris wheel
at the fair one hot day in June.
When I heard a screechy noise,
like a violin out of tune.
I saw a seat,high in the air,
start to break loose.
Then I felt a thump on my head
from a rusty old screw.
Standing at the fair,
with a blurry glare ,
watching a body swaying in the air.
They hung on tight,
As i watched with fright,
waiting for a rescue team to arrive there.
They were saved before they took a fall
While i stood staring in awe.
So to all you thrill seekers
please be aware
of the sight that i saw
while at the fair.
03-19-2019
Sometime last night, resting
inside of my home
I heard a voice singing(?!)
I was not alone
Not sure what to do
I just tried to ignore...
But he went on for hours
in unwelcome encore
Oh, that freaky falsetto
went on for so long
in a shrill, shrieking, trembling
annoying song
That at last, I had had it-
how dare he invade
my home with his frightfully
screechy serenade?
I searched every room
behind curtains, under beds
if I found that intruder
he'd wish he were dead!
Then I began to wonder
if he wasn't outside
for I'd looked everywhere
no more places to hide...
But, at length, he grew louder
I knew he was near
so cheekily taunting me
offending my ears
'Til at last, he popped out!
Cheeky chap in plain view
so I swung into action
and pursued him anew-
Round and round thru the house
how I chased and he fought
until spent and exhausted
he finally was caught!
I carried him to the door
and tossed him out, satisfied-
when (to my horror)
three more crickets hopped inside!
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