Cacophony

There’s screaming in the darkness outside my window
Unintelligible because of the noise within
TV blaring, technology deafening,
A child singing, there’s nothing here but din

while outside a woman is crying
screaming her pain through her tears
car door slamming, questions pouring
how did I get used to all this through the years?

As I wonder if I should peer out,
and make sure she’s alright
but it’s too noisy and I can’t hear anymore,
before all goes dark in the night.

 

My Little Babylon

Look out your back window or door — describe what you see, as if you were trying to convey the scene to someone from another country or planet.

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Through the back door of our house I see a cement wall,
and beyond it, children playing in a swimming pool
splashing and screeching with glee,
water, water, everywhere I see.

There’s the second floor balcony where Heather used to grill chicken and the cat would gaze down at me with such bored disdain
and on the far wall towards the back,
fish swimming about, this way and that.

But Heather’s gone now, and new folks have just moved in
No more fish, no more grill, no more cat on the window sill
Except for a man sipping coffee every morning
Saying, winter is over, here comes the spring.

The third floor balcony is filled with plants and flowers
Tomatoes sprouting, red hot peppers hanging ever lower
Ready for the picking, the usual eyes squinting
Watering from the heat, though there’s more for the picking.

It’s an interesting sight I see, just beyond my cement wall
Sometimes I just sit and watch, doing nothing at all
But listen to life go by, watch the neighbors putter on
This little corner of my world, my little babylon.

 

Daily Prompt: Good Fences

Who are your neighbors? Are you friends with them, barely say hi, or avoid them altogether? Tell us a story — real or invented — about the people on the other side of your wall (or street, or farm, or… you get the point)

Photographers, artists, poets: show us NEXT DOOR.

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© Roman Milert | Dreamstime Stock Photos

We’ve been good neighbors for so long now
but I’m tired of your gossiping,
when you put down your own kin
I know it’s not a slip.
When I’m home, do you
do the same thing
never to
feel your
sting.

*A nonet is a nine line poem. The first line containing nine syllables, the next line has eight syllables, the next line has seven syllables. That continues until the last line (the ninth line) which has one syllable. Nonets can be written about any subject. Rhyming is optional.

Daily Prompt