Short Droning Poems

droning and buzzing
a bumblebee has five eyes
seeing everything...

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TINKLING HARPSICHORD

DRONING ON 

 

LENGTHS OF 

CRYSTAL 

HARMONY 

 

PAUSED 

BEFORE 

SUNLIGHT...

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twenty yards distance
oh God, the sight, scent and sound
closer now, closer
let the droning, drowsy hum
of honey bees drift softly......

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faerie
delicate, dainty
flitting, flying, dancing
fantasy, fey, real, threat
swooping, droning, stinging
stream-lined ebony
wasp...

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chemical weapons
completely unjustified
we're droning on to
punish perpetrators
and war goes on
so even more can die
what more is there?

© Goode Guy 2013-09-01...

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A gentle droning fills the officers’ club
Here come the wasps, someone says
A silence fills where conversations were
Some of the officers walk to the windows
To gawk at the new WASPS...

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Jack Russell sings sharp—
two barks for each passing bike
he would love to chase.
Droning wheels tease and roll on
from chained dog’s staccato song.

May 24, 2016
Traditional Tanka Contest...

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In April, on a still night droning on. . . .
an infant’s first shrill cry fills a hospital hallway;
six waiting siblings and a dad whoop happily!


For nikko palmario's contest: Life without U & ME...

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TV pushes me into a recliner
Droning and dribbling in monotones
Stressing me at a subconscious level

I remain morbidly unaware
Eating potato chips with dip
Not understanding the damage

TV increases her volume
Sixteenth commercial
Amazingly I pay no attention...

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the noise is so distracting,
i can't focus on the
few words wanting out.
thoughts would whisper now,
can't hear them with a shout.
beat by the droning turbine,
exhausted by the bus' grunt.
who i am, who i will be,
lost somewhere in this din,
strung to this revelry....

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Eagle announces sun full bright
Lilacs moving, dragonflies glide
Robins and cardinals chirp readily
Spring happening in jumps and leaps
Whistles and droning bees help tulips sleep




Written: April 27, 2019
Contest:  2019 Premiere 10, Any Form, Any Theme
Sponsor: Brian Strand...

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Love is a code word

                                      Sun is setting moon sneaks in

                                               Droning Cicadas 

                                          Girl is silent oozing silk

                                     Musky smell she opens heaven...

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Spring Sings

Spring sings,
in steady rhythm
rain falling
swollen streams overflowing
spring sings,
a high vibration
of bees wings
beating, a constant droning
spring sings,
a celebration
poppies dance
red dresses flutter, glowing
Spring sings,
in jubilation
jays calling
hallelujah chorus growing...

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droning jays return
build nest on boughs of spring leaves…
hidden acorns sprout

sunburst sky shines
spectrum surge explodes spring buds...
palette overturns

lush lilac lilies
paint Monet on flushed meadow…
dew breathes scent of spring

April 18, 2021
Contest : Spring Haiku Chain
Sponsor : M.L. Kiser...

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Lost in a woodland once again
To feel the silver of mild rain-
Hair windblown

I brush the mist on my body-
Droning through a night’s symphony
Like windpipes

Until gauzy the evensong
Imbues this hill where tears belong-
In windfalls 



Contest On Fire, Earth, Wind---nette onclaud
Norma Arana  Nov 15, 2014
>WIND<...

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And then.... the walls
"Those bloody walls!"
Those screaming, bleeding, ghastly walls...
I daren't venture through that hall
alone,
though it does never pall...
and though the chapel never sleeps
                  -at night the stained glass cleans it's teeth
I often hear the droning, deep
and distant...from the walls that weep....

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I think it's the numbness
That hurts me the most.
That droning sound of silence.

I think it's the desparity
That kills me the slowest.
That makes me crave more violence.

But I know for sure,
Beyond any doubt,
That the loneliness is the worst.

With its low, throbbing ache
And the voids that it makes,
I fear, I am forever cursed....

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What is a voice a voice but empty sounds?
Though music pleasantly resounds,
The droning, listless voice of death,
Speaks to you with every breath.
When time is come to listen well,
It gets louder, starts to swell.
And when the sound is overbearing,
No longer anyone is caring.
So once more living in your past,
The flow of life drains from you fast....

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A monotonous cacophony
Of droning moans,
Makes my ears cry for,
Melodious tones,
This torture continues without abate,
Till there’s no more that I can possibly take.
Music should be something,
About which I care,
Not a growl that makes me pull out my hair.
But if this insipid groan,
Must continually assault my ear,
I pray my hearing will soon disappear.

Verse...

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In the nighttime hours there’s sweet melody
Droning of rain falling down on the ground
In the middle of fall, great time of year
Contains silence of silver all around

The moon beams his pride down on us tonight
The autumn night, cool and crisp, surely glows
Beautiful looks shine in on the light rain
The night brings us peace like only it knows

Russell Sivey...

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Falling asleep softly
On a mellow summers day
My eyes flutter open at rooster’s crow
I sit in my porch chair listening to the gentle hum,
Softly serenading me and the cat to sleep, 
Lulling us with gentle wind chimes and grasshoppers buzz
A variety of bugs are humming and droning
Spreading magic melody throughout the meadow
Wonderful napping weather.
I let my eyes gently close....

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Cats and dogs favor a gentle guitar strumming softly while birds love the flute.  Didgeridoos are charming, droning throats to charm and mesmerize a lion; their healing drones massage the air and soul.  A soft, slow harmonica can draw squirrels, its way and bunnies sit in trance to a dulcimer’s soft rings. 

Music hath its true
Charms, at the zoo or in the
Wood; miraculous! 
...

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Winter Fields Of Laois

Wind song whispered
between drystone wall and hawthorn
morning cold stiffening face and fingers
every clod-n-sod is an obstacle,
my head bowed like a bull 
turning to look down the hill
moments pain and reflection.
A bitter droning voice 
pressing coat to spine...
now curved as an eggshell
Above the trees a crow 
a raggy dancer on the wind
is driven by the music
and rises...

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I am always in competition against myself, it is free.
Playing word games, while I listening to the droning TV
You do not even watch! My husband says amused.
He is right. I use it like a radio, like we did in 1942.

I can get much accomplished while I listen in.
I have knitted and crocheted afghans during the din.
The white noise of the TV is therapeutic to me.
I have my ears ready, but rarely watch the TV....

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God showed up Tuesday
Walked slowly amid His children
Found the doors to his houses locked
The poor huddled in the shadows
Of bell towers that called to no one
Listened to the empty words
Of robed and soul-less orators
Droning in a deafening silence

God wept on Tuesday
Unrecognized
Shunned when he inquired:
“Do you love one another?”
Escorted from the premises
When he whispered:
“Why have you forsaken Me?”...

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