Noises

Her eyesight was going

But her hearing was fine.

The creaks in the floorboards

She had learned to ignore in this

Drafty, whining old house;

The pip-plop of the faucet

She could put to a rhyme.

He, however, was an irritation

She could not longer bear.

The belching and farting

Was a thing to forgive,

Flatulence being a natural thing.

But his meal time habits

Had her last nerve vibrating.

He rattled his spoon around the bowl,

Clinked the ice in his glass at every sip.

Slurped loudly at his soup,

Mumbling with every breath.

Then, he would suck at his teeth.

She left the table early this night,

Scraping her chair across the floor,

Fifty years, she decided, was enough.

He never noticed her return,

Or her favorite frying pan in her hand.

Nor was he able to appreciate the

Satisfying clang as it bounced off his head,

Or the comforting thud of his body on the floor.

These days she eats alone,

But the noises will not let her be;

The skittering of mice in the walls

The tinkling of the wind chimes

And the breathing of the dogs –

A constant racket assaulting her brain,

Much like the thump of a heart,

Beating through a floor.

 

Written for dVerse Poets. Check them out for some incredible poets!

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13 Comments

Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

13 responses to “Noises

  1. haha…he just might drive me crazy as well…if i can hear you chewing, i will probably tell you…cause that is gross…might have to try the frying pan trick next time…ha…nice play

  2. wow.. so she traded one set of nerve-biting noises for another.. got me feeling kind of sorry for her..
    very well written..great take on the prompt!!
    Lynne

  3. Sounds like a scary movie… creepy good.

  4. You brought the scene to life..

  5. goodness…his ghost is continuing to making noise..good that ghosts don’t eat..haha…great take on the prompt mark… i will sneak out and trying to not make too much noise..smiles

  6. Oh lord! The breathing of the dogs is the eeriest of images! So quiet and so intolerably dank. (I just wrote a skillet-as-murder-weapon story. It must be in the air…)

  7. Wow, that is intense. Reminds me some of Edgar Allan Poe.

  8. Intense writing here…I like the subtle play of sounds, everyday sounds but grating to one’s nerves after 50 years. Very good ~

  9. woodrow

    ha! the “tell-tale fart”, interesting variation. enjoyed this very much

  10. So there is some comfort in my increasing deafness – I may not murder my husband after all.

  11. A satisfying clang of a write mark

  12. holy moly! I am quite oversensitive to sounds at times but they say those who lose one sense make up for it with another – so nicely played with the lady losing her sight and then hearing every little thing. The last lines are killer (no pun intended – smiles)

  13. that was so funny. i guess the sounds of someone are just as good a reason to leave them as any else.

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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