The broken shutter
swung ungainly askew
in a sad sag
thumping ugly
with an awkward thunkity-thunk
walloping
with a wind-driven wack-bang
and troubling
thud-thud bothersome bumping
splitting to splinter
the withered and splayed
dry-rotted
paint-flaked weather sill
buckling the loose-hinged
unevenly-hung
smashed and fragmented
sash
ripping the frayed
burnt-orange-framed
window screen
clean out
from its tenuously silicon-sealed
stainless steel seating
busted
battered
and torn
opening unobstructed access
and egress
for the threateningly massed
and ominously subtle
ear-piercing
high-pitched
whiningly whirry-like
buzzing
mosquito swarm
what a malignant menace
what a magnificent mess
sounds like today’s world!
*
rob kistner © 2022
More poetry at: dVerse
~ below here is some beautiful dissonance ~
Great simile. “Like today’s world,” indeed.
Glad this worked for you Tzvi.
A cacophony in verse. Yes, like the world.
That’s the picture I was hoping to paint Kerfe!
‘walloping
with a wind-driven wack-bang’ ~ such wonderful adjectives all throughout your poem!
Pleased it resonstetd for you Carpl.
Love this Rob. I was waiting for ‘Zap’ and ‘Pow’
Too pedestrian Christine…
This is wonderful. Rob!
Thank you so much Ken, appreciate your kind words my friend.
Your alliteration tore up the busy prose. Wow, your poem is a perfect prelude to my rant about the state of the world. I think a lot about the upcoming dirt nap, but I still have more to do, more to say, so I will rage against the night, the dying of the light.
Well, it was supposed to be an attempt at the dissonance Bjorn was requesting. Not sure I understand clearly what written dissonance is Glenn. I have read a number of ‘professed examples’ of it, and none of those resemble each other in style — so I’m really not certain anyone truly knows what the fuck it is when written. I know precisely what dissonance sounds like when played on an instrument, as improvisational jazz (Charles Mingus, SanRa, John McLaughlin’s Mahavishnu Orchestra, John Coltrane’s “Love Supreme”, Chick Corea & Return To Forever, Al Di Meola, etc.).
No man, I am not really looking to a dirt nap anytime soon brother — my heart just started feeling good again
so I intend to enjoy this rejuvenation. Just can’t stand how many of the people of this current iteration of the modern world are. Give me the forests, mountains, mountain lakes & rivers, the Oregon Coast, music, some movies, wildlife, and poetry. Sometimes my friend, I feel all the rest can eat shit and die! 
INDEED!!! I attempted an out-loud read, this is a tongue twister.
If you figure out all the adjectives and adverbs Helen, and hit the inflection right, it reads a bit like an insane Dr. Seuss.
There is also a bit of “on·o·mat·o·poe·ia” sprinkled in…
This is expertly wrought, Rob!
Thank you Sanaa…
Bit and itchin’, Rob!
Don’t scratch it, you’ll infect it.
You nail it with the last line.
Sadly Reena, sadly…
There is nothing that like the discord of weather to work as a metaphor for the world today… bring on some summer bliss.
Those summer days — bested only by summer nights… at least for me…:)
That’s the way, Rob mate…give SOUND to your poetry. Swahbuckling gritty sound….effective as hell….
My poetic “special FX” Ain…
…always nice to have you visit my friend. My only way of knowing you’re likely OK. Please do take care brother! I admire your courage and really dig your poetry. Though my health and all my fucking meds won’t allow me, I’d love to tip a cold one with you… so cheers mate! 