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Jackie Mead Sep 2017
The Frog and The Bee lived merrily on a log, in a bog in the middle of two Rivers, the River Louse and the River Wry.

They were best friends with the Mouse who had a house on the River Louse and the Elf with one ear and the Fly with one eye who lived on the River Wry.

One day the Frog, on the log in the middle of the bog, said to his dear friend the Bee, it's about time that you and I, the Mouse with the house on the River Louse, Elf and Fly had another adventure.
The Bee buzzed excitedly and said 'what did you have in mind?'
"Well" said the Frog, who lived on the log in the middle of the bog on the River Louse, where the Mouse had his house “I was thinking that you and I and the Fly with one eye could get together with the Mouse, who has a house on the River Louse,and the Elf with one ear and set out for the town of Cry which is on the River Wry”.
” I've heard” said the Frog, who lived on the log in the middle of the bog on the River Louse, where the Mouse had his house “that there is a horse living by the course of the River who because he is getting older needs some help getting his master and friend round the very long bend.”
“I thought you and I and the Fly with one eye and Elf with one ear and the Mouse with a house on the River Louse could come up with a plan to get the barge, the horse, his master and friend around the River bend at the town of Cry on the River Wry”.
“What a great idea” said the Bee to the Frog, who lived on a log in the middle
of a bog, let's go summons our friends, the Mouse with a house on the River Louse and the Fly with one eye and the Elf with one ear and help the master and his horse round the River course”.

So the Frog and Bee set out to find the Mouse with the house on the River Louse and the Fly with one eye and the Elf with one ear and explain to them that there was a horse who needed their help to get a barge and his master and friend around the River bend.
The Mouse with the house on the River Louse and the Fly with one eye and The Elf with one hear were easy to persuade, they all agreed to let Frog, who lived on a log in the middle of the bog, to take the lead.
Frog said to the Elf with one ear “we need to you to be the eyes for the Fly with one eye and help him find his way to the town of Cry on the River Wry”.  
To the Fly with one Eye, Frog, who lived on a log in the middle of the bog said “we need you to help the Elf with one ear and be his ears, working together to find your way to the town of Cry on the River Wry”

The friends set out on their way to the town of Cry on the River Wry, Frog, who, lived on a log in the middle of the bog, croaked very nosily as he hopped from lily pad to lily pad from River Louse, where the Mouse with the house lived, to River Wry and their destination the town of Cry.

The Bee buzzed happily on the shoulder of the Frog, who lived on a log in the middle of the bog, and accepted the ride with his friend to the River bend at the town of Cry on the River Wry.

The Fly with one eye and the Elf with one ear set out together, the Elf with his perfect eye sight led the way to the town of Cry on the River Wry.  The Fly with his perfect hearing kept the Elf safe from harm and alerted him to any creature that may be nearing.

It was a beautiful afternoon and the friends would get to the town of Cry on the River Wry soon, the Frog and the Bee, the Fly and the Elf and the Mouse with the house on the River Louse, would help their friend the horse and his master get around the very long course of the River at the town of Cry on the River Wry.

After several hours, the friends all agreed it wouldn’t be long now until their friend the horse would be in sight and they would use all of their skills and all of their might to help their friend navigate around the bend of the river at the town of Cry on the River Wry.

The Frog croaked to the Bee, look our friend is in front of you and me, the horse is close to the River bend and he will soon need all his friends to help him round the bend close to the town of Cry on the River Wry.

The horse was pleased to see his friends, the Frog, who lived on a log in the middle of the bog, the Bee and the Mouse who had a house on the River Louse, the Fly with one eye and Elf with one ear, he began to neigh and cheer, at last he would have some help from his friends to get him, the barge and his master and friend around the river bend.

The Frog, who lived on a log in the middle of the bog, asked the horse “how can we assist you and your master?”.  The horse replied ” of course I need good eyes and ears and lots of noise to guide the master, the barge and me, the horse, of course, around the river bend.”
The Frog, who lived on a log in the middle of a bog, replied “I have an idea, the Elf with one ear has perfect eyes and the Fly with one eye has perfect ears, myself the Bee and the Mouse with a house on the river louse can all make lots of noise, together we will all work to assist your master and you, the horse, around the river course".
The horse did neigh as if to obey and went to find his master.  With a collar around his neck attached to the barge he lowered his head and began to walk.
The Frog, who lived on a log in the middle of a bog and the Mouse who had a house on the River Louse and the Bee made as much noise as a trio of three could possibly.
The Frog, who lived on a log in the middle of the bog, did croak, the Mouse with a house on the River Louse, did squeak and the Bee did buzz and together they made an awful lot of fuss, and the horse did neigh as if to say, he heard them all just fine.

The horse continued to walk and the Fly with one eye and the Elf with one ear did appear, and encouraged the horse to walk on, the Fly with its perfect ears did listen to his friends, The Frog who lived on a log in the middle of the bog, the Mouse who had a house on the River Louse and The Bee, and talked the horse around the river bend.  
The Elf with one ear and its perfects eyes did talk to the horse and describe the course of the river at the town of Cry on the River Wry.

In no time at all the horse, the barge and the master, his friend had gotten all the way around the large bend of the river at the town of Cry on the River Wry.
The horse did neigh as if to say "Thank You" to his friends, the Frog who lived on a log in the middle of the bog, the Bee, the Mouse with a house on the River Louse, The Fly with one eye and the Elf with one ear and invited them to stay for tea.  
The Master was so pleased that he fell to his knees and said to the creatures big and small "thank you for your help today it is fair to say that without your noise, your perfect sight and perfect talk the horse would not have made the walk around the river bend".
"Now" said the master to the new set of friends "lets set up camp past the river bend and have a cup of tea", "thank you" said the Frog, who lived on a log in the middle of the bog and the Bee, "we’d love a cup of tea".

So this very odd group of friends sat around and made mend with a cup of tea and a fire to keep them warm as they swapped stories for the night and tomorrow the friends would make their way home.

The Frog, who lived on the log in the middle of the bog, turned to his special friend the Bee and said “thank you for believing in me”
Another story based poem, it's a bit epic, thank you to anyone who takes the time to read it.
Jess Rose May 2010
The pounding of the drum
was sheets of white paper
Each clap falling to the floor
Settling slowly
Like geese alight to water
We were there for this landing
Nosily, gracefully
The geese were
Ourselves

The drumming of the drum
Was a shell around us all
And we all spiraled in
Till the casements of the
windows shook
Till throughout the basement
And up the stairs
Was the sound
Lifted up again
Like the geese
And the paper pushers
And the polished
thrumming,
drumming,
humming

of

our

hearts
Tessa Aug 2014
I think i may be falling in love with people
all too easily
I see their faces and their clothes
but i know there is so much more
I make up the stories of strangers who pass me
I imagine their heartbreak, i can taste the sadness
I know the pain that they feel
carrying their dead around with them
everywhere they go

so do I
I carry you, I carry my memories
they slouch around nosily behind me they will not leave
some are small little moments which i sort chronologically
some are wrapped neatly into small bundles
some are fiercely independent and will not be wrapped

we are all so similar, we all feel the same things
we love we hurt we breathe we walk on
how can we choose to close ourselves up
when we are all the same on the inside
people need hugs more often
everyone has their battles
please be kind to everyone
Terry Collett Sep 2013
Ingrid would mostly get out of bed in the mornings last of all after her sister had done and her father had gone off to work and she had heard the front door go and knew it was safe to go wash and dress and brush her hair and sit down to breakfast her mother had prepared(if she was up) or she'd get her own cereal and mug of tea(stewed after her father had made it) and listened to the radio some ladeeda voice talking about something she didn't understand or music by so and so's orchestra watching her sister mouth in her cereal or her brother chewing the doorstep slice of bread he'd cut she sat in the wonky chair sitting still in case the leg broke and her dad'd leather her for being reckless when he got home she mouthed her cereal slowly knowing her mother'd say you got to chew it properly Ingrid you don't half gobble your food down like a blooming turkey you are and her brother sat opposite looking at her pulling a face now and then or poking out his tongue or her sister sitting back lounging as her mother called it and if her mother was up and dressed she'd be brushing the carpet in the other room or putting the copper on for the wash or hanging out washing from the night before on the line her dad put up out on the balcony Ingrid scratched her nose looking at the small television set in the corner the small black and white number her uncle said fell off the back of a lorry and no questions asked no lies told he'd say laughing she gazed at the mantelpiece with the old clock and a few small statues of birds and animals she tried to sit comfortable as she could tried to avoid sitting on her right buttock too much where her dad'd hit her the night before for a tear in her school skirt think we're made of money do ya do ya? she moved to her left ate the last mouthful and sipped her tea stewed or not at least it was still sweet and hot and it made her inside warm it was near time to go to school she thought looking at the clock only half listening to her brother talking about some bird he had been out with the night before oh yes she was up for it he said but up for what Ingrid didn't know or care her sister sat mouth open gazing at him the spoon half way to her mouth as if frozen in time and I fancy her a bit and said I'd take her to see that new picture that's out and we can sit in the back row and well he laughed you know what it's like in the back row but Ingrid didn't and looked away and wondered if she dared have a biscuit from her father's tin she liked the chocolate ones he bought for himself but if he found out there'd be hell to pay and he'd say it was nothing but theft and give her a good hiding no best not to risk it she thought getting down from the table and getting her coat and satchel ready to leave don't forget to brush your teeth her mother bellowed from the other room you know what the dentist said last time about your teeth as how you don't brush them enough OK I am Ingrid bellowed back going into the kitchen and taking her pink brush from the cup on the red tiled shelf and dipped it in the tin of tooth paste and brushed as hard as she could until her gums bled staring at herself in the small mirror her dad shaved in staring at her teeth the gums bleeding the toothpaste white and red her brush held by her mouth and washed her brush under the cold water tap the getting a handful of water she washed out her mouth until the bleeding stopped then wiped her mouth on the towel behind the door get a move on her mother bawled from the living room or you'll be late OK just going Ingrid bellowed back over the clutter of sounds from the radio and her mother banging around and she opened the front door and closed it behind her nosily so that her mother would know she'd gone and not bellow anymore and so off she walked along the balcony looking over at the Square below wondering if Benedict had left yet hoping he hadn't wishing to see him she went down the concrete stairs until she reached the entrance and out into the Square where she walked by the other flats on the ground floor looking ahead to see if Benedict was about but she couldn't see him and so walked on down the ***** towards the road then along by the flats wondering if he r mother was watching her walk along from the flat window above and behind her that's how her mother knew about Benedict and her how they walked together to school and sometimes they stood on the balcony in the evenings looking at the sky darkening or the down at the Square below but Benedict wasn't with her this morning maybe he'd gone earlier or maybe he was late leaving but she couldn't wait in case and besides her father didn't like Benedict said he was a bit up himself a bit soft what with his reading books and collecting stamps and so on but that was what she liked about him he was different and he was kind to her and didn't tease her like most of the boys did didn't call her four eyes or say she stank or that she had fleas(which she didn't except that one time she got them from Denise) or try to lift up her school skirt to see the colour of her underwear like some of the boys did or tried she went into subway the lights glowing the echoes of voices in her ears the hum of traffic above the sense of being walled in the smell of ***** where tramps had slept and **** the walls when she came out the other end she saw Benedict waiting for her by Burton's clothes shop his hands in his pockets a big smile on his face and she felt all warm inside all safe and happy as if blessed by the good God's grace.
This has been classified as both a short story and a prose poem. It is not an easy read but nor is Ulysses by James Joyce.
Tammy M Darby Mar 2019
Late one nice warm evening
Came a very loud knock upon my door
It was a complete stranger
Tired bewildered and lost
Now imprisoned in my dark magical woods

A gracious host of course
I bowed and extended my hand and stated
Please come in, dear friend take a seat and let’s discuss pressing matters
Such as the ghost to my left or the ghoul to the right dressed in tatters

As you can plainly see I am playing poker with the 3 eyed demons of the 4th night
Who infamous cheaters like the mummies rarely ever get a second invite
The vampires are sitting in the shadows where they think no one may see
Putting visine in their red eyes
White roses in black lapels and sharpening their pointed teeth

The werewolves yellow dripping fangs
Are climbing the curtains growling
Come the rising of the round moon
The goblins little monsters stroll in nosily
Angrily demanding recognition which is rightly their due

The witches spitting and cursing their hats
Hopped clumsily off their brooms
While the strongest warlocks were locked in battle
Throwing spells across the amber walled room

They have arrived for my banquet
As all have received the coveted invitations before
When some foolish stranger like you
Unaware knocks upon my door,

All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M Darby March 2, 2019.
All Material Stored in Author Base
Humorous Dark Poetry
Julia Low May 2012
Struggling beneath eyelids,
heavy and convincing,
begging and imploring me
to rest a while.

Yet, my brain hums,
steadily and nosily,
an uninspired lullaby
of thoughts and memories
that I cannot seem to sing.

Wouldn't it make a lovely song,
these theories and explanations?

If only they stayed a while,
instead of flitting away.
Poetic T Oct 2017
Where petals where collected
                                      in formation,
now do the intricate twines of
                       entanglement untwine.

Beauty now becomes weathered.
A hurricane of motions
                                    now segregate
what was contoured in perfection.

But when a flower wilts its petals
                                  fall nosily...
And all we hear is caustic silence..
for when a life is like a blade it
cuts deeper than any life... silence.
Bellvadear Nov 2017
just an average typical morning within this same old town
avoiding all the neighbors that nosily creep these grounds
while all these other folks keep busy bodying gossiping and all
who has whiter teeth, bigger *****, or the cutest guy at the mall
i stopped at the library to dodge all these illiterate snots
the only place that's quite enough for me to organize my thoughts
i walked in just to be stopped, breathless, dead in my tracks
a book, not made of paper or even hard back
binding was some type of stitched authenticism
bound with a beautiful articulate collage of pattern to it

I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it

I stood there for a second, which felt like a lifetime
must have been reading stars, because it left my mind blind
if only just once I could hold that masteredpiece written classic
I can't lie it was perfect man, I just had to have it
I gasped for a moment, dead in my body
frozen and stunned hoping nobody saw me
it crossed my mind for a split, then, I thought
nah ****
if I get caught I'd be a goner, but I just couldn't wait any longer

I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it

I darted for that case in a flash and I shattered that glass
busted it open, like I was late for literature class
static shocked a little as the book touched my hand
it was in that moment i knew i was the #1 fan
then it wasn't long I realized it was written for me
initials imprinted so there was no questioning

I thought
same old stories, same old narrative
can someone tell me where all the good authors went
I just need an outline, no critique or edit
but everything I read, I feel I have already read it

I fell deep into the title it really 'hit a line'
bold, italics, with a dedication underlined
I wasn't sure why I needed or wanted to own it
but I would have searched forever if I would have known it
searching every library for a perfect story
all the titles and endings just really seem to bore me
this one was special I just wanted to trace over the print
read. every small detail. no need for suspense
Shaun Yee Mar 2022
Dogs were barking blatantly
Cats were mewing meekly
Cows were mooing moodily
Horses were neighing nosily
Goats were bleating briefly
Hens were clucking constantly
And frogs were …….  just croaking

Apart from these ……….

The farm was very quiet actually
fun tongue-in-cheek poem
Łëïçkî Jan 2020
Around 2:00 pm they start pouring in.
Men? No. Boys.
They choke the hallways and all four floors.
They grunt and kick each other under the table.
Eating their chips nosily.
Discussing last nights game.
Cursing the teacher who gave them home work.
Wheezing laughter and low voices disturb me.
Shut up.
I want to say.
Take it outside.
This is a ******* library.
I'd say confidently.
I keep still.
And silent.
this is about anxiety and how being a woman is sorta never in your favor
I smelled blood-red roses before sprayin' them with pea-green hoses
'cause what I know is, my slit wrists make for terribly ****** poses
that I s'pose shows on my warty nose that's swollen big like 2 noses
on a type of nose chart that a team of nose experts nosily composes
within artistical strictures that graphical artists like Gandhi imposes
on ****-******* ******* lying about the ashram in reposing reposes

— The End —