The Knocking

The knocking on the door never stops, and its beginning to get out of hand

Day's and day's of endless work/stress, fills the mind with wicked thoughts. 

One day of true rest to unwind from life harsh reality. 

No grocery shopping, no errands, no outdoor plans, but sitting on the couch and eating junk food.

8am: The front doors begins to knock; my neighbor wanted to borrow some sugar for coffee. My Southern hospitality waken from its slumber to be neighborly.

 

9am: I was catching up on the news about a killer who was on the lamb. When I heard a knock at the door again; my heart skipped a beat. My neighbor repaying me for my kindness with banana bread. 

10am: Knocking at my front door again; I have a package I need to sign for. The delivery men were kind, but my day isn't starting like I planned. 

12pm: The knocking was once again coming from my front door; A group of Mormons trying to teach me their good word. I turned them down like everyone else they will talk to today.

2pm: The KNOCKING again; my nerves are becoming frazzled. No one was there, but I hear giggling of mischievous kids in the bushes.

5pm: A moment of peace from a tiring morning; just then the knocking came again like the wart on the back of your hand.  Girl scout troop trying to sell cookie's, but my nerves are getting to me. Almost bit the girls head off by mistake;  I apologize by buying to many Tagalongs. 

6pm: The news came on with bold  a announcement" Killer had struck again"; my nerves are dwindling away and my heart isn't fairing to well either.  

7pm: Trying to relax by fixing a nice meal for one; the knocking came back again. I ignored it and focused on my browning chicken. The knocking wouldn't stop, my blood was boiling more then my rice. I stomped over to the door, and no one was there. My kitchen smelled of burnt rice and chicken.

9pm: My back door was beginning to making racket; my house reeks of to much air freshener after my supper fiasco. My nerves were dead and gone. I opened the door with daggers for eyes; it was a stray cat that comes around here. My blood pressure goes down, and I fixed a bowl of some not so burned bits of chicken. Cat was happy, and I calmed downed some. 

11pm: The front door knocked again just as I was about to head to bed; my nerves are coming back ever so slowly. I bit the bullet and opened the door ,and no one was there. I turned around to see my back door opened from when I feed the cat earlier. My heart skipped a beat. 

Author's Note

Trying Spoken word today; it was okay not sure this is even considered spoken word. Small warning: this is little bit on the raw side, very little editing will clean it up tomorrow.

Reviews

[Lilly]

This is a great idea. You can feel the speaker's irritation slowly building throughout and the open ending is suspenseful and really makes the piece.
I'm not super familiar with spoken word poetry and so I'm not sure if this does fit that category (maybe someone else can tell you). I feel that if you wanted to, you could add something to the end of the piece, or even little things earlier on, to intensify the dark/suspenseful feeling that's created in the last lines.

[Howling_Wolf]

thank you on your review Lilly. I took a bit of haitus in my writing, but I'm getting back into again. ill definitely review this piece tomorrow, and make some revisions.