Best Belching Poems
In my vantage-point the vast oceans are warming,
The sea levels are rising, while today is melting,
Cracking thick ice-shields crowning Artic, Antarctic
And ferocious intensity is churning Atlantic, Pacific,
As yesteryear in rear view flashes blunt warnings,
And future is admonishing~ morrow is drowning.
Snow-white Alps, soon forgotten dreams of past,
Rockies, Himalayas, barren as dethroned crowns,
Productive farming lands, infertile lacking rainfall,
Breeze of winsome winds, belching carbon dioxide,
Elixir of life poisoned by chemicals in water supply,
Paradise on earth soiled by callous human assault.
Proponents believe it’s true, deniers claim it’s false,
It’s an inexplicable dialogue of a human paradox,
Some assert it’s here now, others are nonchalant;
Tomorrow is troubled~ warns the flipped hourglass.
God! here comes the flood, here comes the storm,
Here come the disasters, hurricanes and cyclones,
Here comes the famine, here comes the drought,
Here on our display~ are shortcomings and faults.
Raise your voice, shout aloud~ dares anxious heart,
Apocalypse now! clamors an ubiquitous time clock,
Time to act is now, commands a flipped hourglass,
Before shore-lands vanish and coastal towns drown,
Before the earth’s scorched, before life is parched;
Before the game’s over, before checkmate is called.
February 8, 2022
Placed 1st: Pick-A-Title, Vol 28 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
Title chosen: Flipped Hourglass
blind minions do not hear
deaf disciples cannot see
callous subzero frozen feelings
breed gibberish jarring jubilee
this bloody blind-eyed messiah
rode to town astride an ass
belching barking oratory
for an aimless lower class
a starry-eyed astrologer
alchemist extraordinaire
summoned shrouded quatrains
revealing he baffles with a flare
loitering lotus-eater
puppeteer par excellence
self-indulgent Machiavellian
pitched fabricated arrogance
adroit and ambidextrous
he summons the mercurial mass
conjuring decrees and fairytales
dictating his rules pass
lose not a bloodied hammered head
resign yourself to a running retreat
le guillotine administers
swift sweet and replete
no man speaks of that not heard
or sees that left not read
bony fingers point with indigestion
reflecting in fractured mirrors
Posted April 18, 2020
Along the mountain pine valley did the Iron Horse roar,
A steam belching black demon, burning red hot coals
Within it's steel belly.
Speed's hell bound creation, driven by greed's insatiable hunger,
Faster, faster it moves at acceleration rush, to
Achieve manifest destiny's final arrival on time.
In the distance hear another lone whistle blow, spitting,
And spewing with brimstone's gray smoke.
This indeed is the devil's train, carrying the forsaken,
To the depot of no return.
With a half empty payload aboard, Satan makes a deadly
Judgment call, stoke up those engines boys, ramming
Speed if you please.
Made man beasts are these mechanical monsters
Of destructions, lethal death weapons, chained
Down to the steel rails, and iron pikes.
Ebony stallion's racing against the winds,
As redden sparks sizzle and bite at the crisp autumn
Air, bellowing fumes poisoning the night.
The engineer of the 10; 15 out of Tombstone,
Checked his pocket watch, speaking impatiently,
He did so yell out, come along fellow's, we have a
Schedule to keep, and we've hours behind in our dead line,
So let’s pick up the pace.
Now the devil's train came out of know where,
With hell's supernatural master at the wheel,
Heckling, and laughing, relishing in the carnage’s
Utter calamity to come.
On a lone chewed up mangled piece of track,
Lies wreckages debris blood, flesh and twisted metal,
Lain stewned for miles beside the wild wilderness.
Broken bones, and sheared off limbs, weeping mother's
Cradling limp, lifeless bodies, crying why, God almighty
Why?
But the lord and heavenly father, had nothing to do,
With this unnatural disaster, nay the devil had many
Empty spaces to fill, and his passengers list was lean.
So he leveled the crimson ground with his dark gavel,
Taking souls at high velocities supernatural speed,
For this is the devil's ghost train, and it is so
Hell bound.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
The Hounds of Hell Released
Blood-spattered feathers on broken wings,
and the Age of Angels and Light was undone.
A black mantle of terror and darkness descended,
as the red-hot lips of hell opened wide, belching out
war-thirsty hounds that shredded peace to pieces.
10-31-2015
Contest: In 5 Lines or Less #1 (Picture This)
Sponsor: SKAT A
Placement: 6th
A legend in our time,
Nessie lives in Loch Ness.
And while monster to some,
he is loved by the press.
Moonbeams gilded the waves,
like golden filagree.
And it’s beauty was such,
that he just had to see.
His head broke the surface,
leery of stray yachters.
And small ripples stirred,
in the placid waters.
Snout out of the water,
he soon started to choke.
And exhaled puffs of mist,
like he was belching smoke.
But it was well worth it,
to see the moon and stars.
And glimpse other planets,
like Jupiter and Mars.
His eyes aren’t use to light,
his world is inky black.
And after surfacing,
he now dreads going back.
In the beginning there was a lonely word but soon after
there was no room at the meagre hostel for the saviour
Sanguine hopes flash-flooded the sanctuary of hearts
sacrificial blood of Christ awaited to be spilt in vain
Spelt out the message of rusty nails corroding on cross
bones mounted the flesh ready for vanishing memories
Lest we forget Christmas it amounts to summits of wrappers
luxurious gifts opulent indigestion after a vainglorious feast
Reindeer and global delivery services occlude the notion that
taking stock is not about counting presents but reducing the cost
Jesus flashes from i-pads I this and I that please give me more
extra goods additional abundance mince pies and stuffing
Belching and flatulent Tim reaches for his heartburn medication
tastes uppers and downers sniffs white powder on bank cards
His wife smears the makeup she grabbed from under the tree
her new perfume a bountiful offering of disguised scented myrrh
No sense for frank frankinsence as she sniffs expensive fragrances
from benefaction bottle’s decadence and reduces benediction to myth
Gift wrap explodes from the fireplace in the mix of unopened packets
just after Father Christmas has made a lucky escape from the scene
Arson of gluttony self-inflicted suffering self-immolation of sorts
sorts out this unholy communion followed by smouldering mourning
The insurance company refuses to pay as they insist that the couple
had backed the wrong course of action in vile contempt of true faith
They however donate a beautiful bible of careful calligraphy
with gilded ornamentation bound in leather and lather of time
There are no walls standing for wailing when Tim and his spouse
and it remains to be seen whether they might find a mangled manger
To resume business as usual or take refuge in meaning and truth
when the word in the beginning had become a sorry blank canvas
18th November 2018
Contest Christmas Mourning
Sponsor P.S. AWTRY
Leaving behind the city grime
and angry crowded streets of crime.
The chimneys belching smoke and ash
clinging to the window’s sash.
Filling wagons with prized possessions,
facing our westward journey, like hessians.
“Westward Ho” was the call of the day;
we began our journey without delay.
A caravan of hopeful dreams
driving cattle herds in teams,
facing the harshness of rough terrain
wind, sand storms, and pouring rain.
The journey hard ~ without remorse,
losing lives throughout our course.
Crossing rivers and narrow mountain passes,
where rocky paths where thick with brush and grasses.
Fighting Indians and thieves we managed to survive
through cholera and wounds ~ the lucky stayed alive.
We buried souls in shallow graves ~ as we travelled on our way,
marking stones and crude crosses, we knelt down to pray.
To lessen our burden we made concessions
left behind ~ our family possessions
to arrive where the mountains meet the sky
and nights illuminated with stars up high,
where fertile valleys wave and roll
filling our dreams, filling our souls.
The Oregon Trail brought us here,
building a life, in a new frontier.
Pieces of sunlight
Indiscriminaely scattered
Amid dappled green
Change places with
Latticed shadows
of emerging silence
Cheerful birds song
Chirp, chirp, chirp
Mingle with
Gently rustling leaves
Morning's musical companions
The flaming muscle car rears
Screaming lurching to a stop
Nose diving, braking hard
Deep throated mechanical bark
Shatters stillness
Belching tail pipes thunder
The assault splits the air
Chopping stillness to pieces
After awhile birds sing
And the trees are still green
His slender serpentine neck, silently sliced through the surface tension,
sending ripples stirring in the calm waters of Loch Ness,
He was jittery; leery of being seen.
But, a pudgy-faced moon spun its light into a ribbon
of golden filigree that shimmered,
and danced across the waves.
Its beauty was such that he just had to see it for himself.
The air tickled his nose,
sending small puffs of mist into the air with each snort,
and it made him look like a dragon, belching smoke.
He knew he couldn't stay more than a few moments,
before he had to submerge to breathe through his gills; or choke.
But it is all worth it,
to see the stars sparkling like jewels in a sky of ebony.
His limpid eyes drank in the beauty of the night,
in his world of inky blacks and murky grays
his species evolved exceptional eyesight.
His head breaching the surface of the water, entered an alien world,
where magic exists.
He hears a commotion along the shore; people point in his direction,
and he knows he needs to disappear.
But, it's so beautiful above the water,
that Nessie dreads going back to the depths from whence he came.
(Free Verse)
03/30/2017
He staggered from her bedroom zombie like,
And scratched his armpits, belching, breaking wind;
His hair was sticking up, his beard unkempt;
He took a shower, brushed his teeth – and grinned.
Suspended high up the tower,
I hang out of sight.
My shiny golden brass core is hollow,
but I have a big mouth with a bell as a tongue.
Sometimes pigeons visit, resting on my arch,
but fly away leaving their droppings behind.
Don't pity me for my loneliness and silence,
as this serenity never lasts.
When the cloaked man arrives and pulls at my rope
he breaks the peace with deafening sounds.
Each tug hammers against my cup shaped sides,
belching vibrating echoes across the lands.
In an enchanting melody that brings joy to most,
but distress to some -
who only hear me as shrills and shrieks.
I love my ding dongs,
be it to tell the time,
or for funerals, weddings or as a call to prayer -
I'm content in ringing all day long!
An awful aardvark ate anchovies against all advice.
Besides belching beyond belief, he bit bitter banana boats.
Charlie Chimp cackled curiously, convinced
Delicious delectable desserts did damage.
Enormous energy engaged enthusiastic excitement
Frenzied friendly felines, forever forgiving
Greasy giraffes giving grievous gripes
Horsey happiness hiding hurt amongst hilarity.
Ignoring idiocy involved ignorantly,
Jumping jack-a-lopes jiggled
Kangaroo kindness keeping
Leisurely lions laughing
Merriment mesmerized monkey marines
Never notorious, nevertheless, nefarious
Octopus ostracized owls, ostentatiously,
Preventing Porcupines putting prickles precariously in patrons.
Quietly and quickly
Resuscitating rescued rabbits
Savagely sustaining simple seriousness
Totally terrorized
Underneath unique
Verbose velocity
Which worried
‘xtra ‘xtraneous
Zipping, zaggy, zebras.
Wind circulates, lifting and flattening
an otherwise, benign, breathless world,
relying also on deeper, slowly moving
tectonics, belching foully, scattering
seas...effecting change. Seasons like Sun
rejoice and fold. An occasional comet or
meteor perhaps a compassionate
God-sent, heaven rethinking the dawdling
pace of destiny…. Man a defiant offspring,
rejecting patterns seemingly not of his own
making – good angels know better, dutifully
soothingly serving.
Silence As Paper Absorbs Ink To Battle Rage
The clink, clink of hammer and anvil kissing hard
hot flames from fiery furnace belching molten steel
famous blades born from a fallen meteorite shard
gifts bloody deep cuts a fallen warrior feels.
Deadly romance of man, fire and metal forged true
tiresome toil that births deadly weapon made to kill
can opposition, pen and ink give such foe its due
when world spins faster to create deadlier thrills.
The clink, clink of hammer and anvil kissing hard
hot flames from fiery furnace belching molten steel
famous blades born from a fallen meteorite shard
gifts bloody deep cuts a fallen warrior feels.
Silence as paper absorbs ink to battle rage
long past late midnight hours, and quivering of hand
as poet consults epitaph of an ancient sage
to venture deeper into mists in darker lands.
The clink, clink of hammer and anvil kissing hard
hot flames from fiery furnace belching molten steel
famous blades born from a fallen meteorite shard
gifts bloody deep cuts a fallen warrior feels.
War from Man, can opposing factions separate
BLOODY PAWS FROM GOLD, ON A BROKEN DINNER PLATE
War from Man, can opposing factions separate
BLOODY PAWS FROM GOLD, ON A BROKEN DINNER PLATE.
R.J. Lindley
Nov. 12th 1984
Rhyme, ( War, Man, This World, As Opposed By Poetic Pen )
Twang toot Fing Foo
Jingle jingle rattle boo
Tiger Tiger splash, squish
Skycrapper’s crashing swish
Wretched retches snorting snuck
Timtimbuctoo’s belching buck
Whoosh whoosh Winnie Treetree murmur
Croaking frogie's hiss hiss charmer
Punipuni giggles growling grunt
Oink oink words' trilling witchhunt