Best Bitumen Poems


The Hummingbird Cake

"The Hummingbird Cake"




The day started bright -

Bright Eggshell Blue
and ended in percussion
dark and cloudy stormed in
thunder pummelled drums
against a backdrop of 
bruised eggshell dijon yellow
sweating heavy sage green
spitting spoilt the swollen pride of purple,
a wet abrasion against 
Electric Blue 
crackling along her lips
like Lightening

Sizzled on 
her bitumen

her mind 
winked at you...

Splits two
into one
not three

Taken slowly
deliberately 
cake digested 
swallowed like swallows 
nibbling freely on air 
a symphony of do you see me
in a Hummingbird storm

stairs to you she stares 
upwards forever upwards
at lines of ebony tied tight 
words kick and spit
like a cat in heat caught up 
in a hessian sack
words in a puzzle 
shaken and caste
on a playing board 
pure white
not black

She, 
Third person,
always Third person, 
listens to her own heart
and then listens to the 
words you have put on 
and slowly worn warm

Revisits in her evening 
a conversation with an old friend
Lorikeets on the balcony 
Passionfruit cake and their
beaks in honey 
a day in the life of Mosman
Carmen the dancer 
Blueberries and 
Raspberry Banana Bread
and Gold Crested 
Pterodactyl Cockatoos
commandeering her kitchen 
her gangster lovers
dead ends and loose screws

The day started bright blue
Ended in a thunder clap
boiling over onto a glowing hotplate
of flying embers, 
reckless kisses and an unplanned

Storm;

A piece of Hummingbird Cake
was fed through a thread

In dreams while you watched 
a movie in bed

Spoken to you 
through 
mind cerebral 
not Reality read

Poppyseed and Honey
Bees buzzing on swollen
unheard lips 

that silently bled Red

Words 
Meanings

Life
Read 
Red

Sugar ingested,
Honey to Blue Horse Flies.

Australiana
Fed.

Sleep,
Bed.

(LadyLabyrinth/2019)




"Listen to the Hummingbird" / Leonard Cohen
https://youtu.be/hYIeW8bwlWQ


"Meadow" / Liam Gallagher
https://youtu.be/wHVuW7eOPNI


"Cosmic Dancer" / T.Rex
https://youtu.be/GMfjA4gyEcU













"Meadow" / Liam Gallagher, Lyrics
https://genius.com/Liam-gallagher-meadow-lyrics
Categories: bitumen, freedom, psychological, romance,
Form: Free verse

Reminiscing With Henry

There's little left now, Lawson, mate, of your home by the hill, 
Except, a guarding sentinel, the chimney stands there still; 
To some it's just another site, for tourists passing through, 
Perhaps they've never read your works - how sad, but maybe true. 
 
Eurunderee and childhood days, please tell me if I'm wrong, 
Instilled in you mixed memories and feelings, oh so strong. 
Yes, monumental moments mate;  the hardship and the joy. 
They brought to mind old childhood days when I was just a boy. 
 
Is that your Dad with shouldered axe and wand'ring off somewhere? 
His cross-cut saw with him as well.  I'm sure it's him, I swear. 
The dark haired lady on the log and scribbling on a pad; 
Your Mum I guess at work on verse;  she taught you well my lad. 
 
Old grandpa Albury's visiting and dons his greasy hat. 
 I know it's him, no other soul could ever shout like that. 
The muck on brother Charlie's face.  It's not Jim Nowlett's brew? 
He surely can't believe that tale, 'cause none of it is true. 
 
I see young brother Peter mate is tending cows again. 
You mentioned how they liked to stray.  You're right, they are a pain. 
Is that a horseman riding up and pack horse by his side? 
It can't be old Dave Regan.  No!  They told me he had died.  
 
If Billy Grimshaw's teams passed now, his bales of wool so high, 
He couldn't swear from being bogged;  the bitumen runs by. 
The gold has long but disappeared, though grape vines grow here still; 
Red wine is known around the world;  I know, I've had my fill. 
 
I can't stay any longer mate I've got a way to go; 
To join up with my poet friends, up Queensland way you know.  
I'm glad though that I stopped a while to reminisce with you, 
Like Banjo mate, deep down within, I saw you as true blue.
Categories: bitumen, people, brother, old, childhood,
Form: Ballad

Premium Member Black Cat

"BLACK CAT"



SILENCE
prowls on soft paws 
with sharp claws
Cutting up the 
Middle Road
Dark shadow moves 
SILIENCE
In absentia 
Empty Absynthe
Puncture wounds
Cold wind blows
Over tracks
Skids softly
like warm 
gants de Suède
on 
Poets’ Row
Rat goes 
Rat goes
Red scream 
scarlet ribbons 
LIFE
flows
Le Mort
blushes colour
a trite persuade
different streets
different gutters
Torn canvas sheets
contained between
prison bar margins
Drafts on the floor
crumpled
Blue fountain
Heart bursting
Love and Hate
Grows
Save Our Souls
Save Our Souls
Sins 
Sisters of Mercy
and 
Salvation Army Sargents'
Tambourines
Communion
Nibs lying next to
Garbage Bin
Finally Ash Felt 
Rain on her 
Bitumen face
Black Minx 
Fur Pelt
Unfurls lazy stretch
Glass eyed
Minx
Back Alley Dreaming
Bad Luck
Bad Luck
Rolling loaded dice
blood boiling steaming
Brush strokes 
Like glyph a glitch
Like glyph a glitch
Familiar mirror
Walks through Witch 
Yesterday
Screams
Like glyph a glitch
Repeat curse
Repeat curse
Black Cat purring
Never lose
Hold tight 
Pearls in Purse
7 Devils Dreaming
Sleepwalking
Graffiti Warning
Black Cat
Witch
Glebe 
Last Stop Station
Rehearse a 
Hearse
LIFE
Glyph a glitch
Reverse


(Lovejoy-Burton/May 2018)




1. Hanged Man
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/hanged-man/

2. Death
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/death/

3. Temperence
https://www.biddytarot.com/tarot-card-meanings/major-arcana/temperance/

4a. Glyph
noun
a pictograph or hieroglyph.
a sculptured figure or relief carving.
Architecture. an ornamental channel or groove

4b. Glyph
https://www.thoughtco.com/what-is-a-glyph-2086584

5. "Black Cat"/Ladytron (Translation)
http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/3530822107858716200/

6. Silience
http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/post/49792543182/silience

7. Seven Devils
-  Is a Solitaire card game.
-  Seven Deadly Sins
-  The Seven Devils of Mary Magdeline
-  Florence and the Machine, Seven Devils

8. La Morte, Le Mort, La Mort 
Le mort = dead man = un mort, a dead man 
La morte (with the e on the end) = dead woman, une morte = a dead woman 
La mort (no 'e' on the end) - death; as in the concept of death
Categories: bitumen, cat, color, dark, imagery,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Dragonfly

By this old pond
Morning glory;
Dragonfly parade

~~~~~~~~~


Lotus flowers
Sun tan moments;
Somnolent hours

~~~~~~~~~


Fat frog sits
Atop lotus leaf;
Morning meditation

~~~~~~~~~


Here in this park
Squirrels dash;
Curious activity

~~~~~~~~~


Here for a stroll
Watch butterflies flirt;
Happy flowers smile

~~~~~~~~~


Bougainvillea shrubs
Flowering in the heat;
Tropical display

~~~~~~~~~


Busy feet trampling 
Bitumen track;
Jogging around

~~~~~~~~~


Windy cascades
Through bamboo pines;
Sifting and singing

~~~~~~~~~


Sleepy moods loiter
Birds murmuring;
Stray monkeys cluster

~~~~~~~~~


Dragonfly song
Unheard melody;
Drowsy September

~~~~~~~~~


Another hazy day
Wind-blown smog;
Smell of ashes

~~~~~~~~~


Wooden bridge
Clear waters below;
Sleepy fish resting

~~~~~~~~~




Leon Enriquez
16 September 2015
Singapore
Categories: bitumen, beauty,
Form: Haiku

Premium Member African In Influence, American In Attraction

A tree of three trunks and ten branches
which grows particularly the maple leaf
and blest with a natural freezer customized by climatic inactivity
with a unique symbol of in-habitation in Alert.

A global authority in the possession of bitumen,
the fortification of Quebec- a stand out in North American glory
consumes nature’s tithe in forest cover
and a popular wealthy merchandise of underground currencies.

It shares the world’s longest meeting point between two lips
and so wet with lakes existing in their millions.
Then second to none in the strength of tidal currents in the world.
while sex sells but prohibited to be bargained or bought.

Next to the largest global nation
is this land housing hospitable citizens
with its warmheartedness centrally preserved in Ottawa.
Identifying with the two most politically and economically related languages
which are highly significant nation-wide
like its consumption of macaroni and cheese.
All the same the uniqueness of its influence is set apart;
silent is its global contribution but powerful is its international attraction.
Categories: bitumen, africa, america, community, earth,
Form: Ode

Premium Member Sweet Bleeding

In a Texas commercial circus
the journey is set
vehicled by hormonal energy
beginning from the cashier's tag
well placed on her blue shirt
exactly on her very firm left Breast
with the name "Carmen"

The route of desires
his wants drive through
having a static attention
on her mammary glands
but the Life in him, already as far as Bremen.

Engineered by libido so troublesome
which takes it guns, even in no provocation.
Just usual bare skin
stimulates the production of his semen
and simple feminine curves
blacken his mind with bitumen
as part of him
slides down the huge lumen
of intense sexual intentions.

He places the General's rank
on his 'small head'
then the big one becomes void of all acumen.
Eyes fixed, body static, lips separated
all these, irritating the nearby women
as this middle-aged being
drops to the lowest point of all men.

Planning on a tour below her abdomen
his road trip revolve round her hymen
a well covered pretty damsel
yet he sees as flesh full of foramens
in a place far from a serenity of physical intimacy
yet somehow he falls for an unforeseen trap
of infernos desires.
His heart, the only villain
as it rejects any deal with this sudden natural cause.

A flood of laughter and jeers
welcome his total presence once again,
he tries to wave off the premonition of a bad omen
not knowing, to the corruption of his thoughts
his 'third leg' all along has been saying AMEN!
Categories: bitumen, desire, fantasy, rude, sexy,
Form: Rhyme


King of the Field

The bitumen sockets of a fox's skull gape out across 
an open field, testament to open-casketed interment. 
Starlings pulse ephemeral iredescence in a cascade of 
limitless water falls. Autumn's late sun throws shapeless 
shadows across a ruined tree, hunched over, its grey-brown
bark witness to countless years of inflicted torture.
And the cinching together of its narrow waisted branches
scream against the weight of delinquent crows. 

Redundant pose of a one-legged king leans 
into nonexistent wind, pointing malnutritioned 
sticks accusingly at the ignoble intent of winged demons. 
An impertinent robin perched on his dilapidated crown, 
sounds the nocturnal 'last call' to all who are still abroad.
A blanket of evening mist enshrouds his kingdom safe
from vespertine raiders and sharp-witted foxes. 

The King has put his night cap on and stalkers rule the silver 
veils and black-tarred veins, listening to the land breathe. 
Patient ears reveal a midnight snack and a mothers heartbreak,
as nature's competitors endure its contest. Sly look meets
fertive glance on hard won boundary, and pensive new -
comer tastes the trees for scent of ownership.

The nights smudged daub drags into early morning coloured 
calls between the feathered demons of the worm-fertile field, 
as the redundant mists finish a hard nights shift, and the lost soul
of the night is easily replaced by nature's gift. And the King, woken
from his slumber, stands careful watch over his dominion once more
Categories: bitumen, nature,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Stampede: The Bitumen Blooms



“Stampede: The Bitumen Blooms” 

All the promises under the Sun
could never buy time, and 
all that glistens on a wrist in a heartbeat succombs

peels away the romance 
like tinfoil scraps, wrapped and cutting like razors
into the skin of what matters most

liked barbed wire 
around a wrist bleeding
glistening golden brands like some kind of reigning crown

the so-called pulse of keeping up with the J’s
will never deliver the most precious intangible, 
it burns inside out unseen

underneath the bitumen 
the buried truth blooms
strange journeys crawl 

and their animals released 
from the cage, 
eventually, 

stampede;

sacrifices are made. 



Candide Diderot. ‘25
Categories: bitumen, humanity,
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Le Gommier De La Municipalite - Translation of Oodgeroo Noonuccal's Municipal Gum Tree By T Wignesan

Le gommier de la Municipalite - Translation of Oodgeroo Noonuccal's Municipal Gum Tree by T Wignesan

[Automatic re-translation into English edited for effect...]

Le gommier qui se trouve sur la rue de la ville,
Le bitume autour de tes pieds,
Il vaudrait mieux que tu sois
Dans le monde des espaces fraiches entouré d’arbres feuillus 
         de la forêt
Et des chants des oiseaux sauvages.
Ici tu me parais
Comme ce pauvre cheval de trait-là
Castré, démoli, une chose écartée et damnée,
Harnaché et bouclé, c’est l’enfer prolongé,
Dont la tête baissée et le mien fade exprime
L’espoir à jamais perdu.
Le gommier de la ville, c’est douloureux
De t’apercevoir ainsi
Figé dans ta pelouse noircie de bitume –
O concitoyen,
Qu’est-ce qu’ils ont fait de nous?

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2016
Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2016

Le gommier de la Municipalite - Translation of Oodgeroo Noonuccal's Municipal Gum Tree by T Wignesan

 Gum tree sitting on the street of the city, 
Bitumen around your feet, 
It would be better if you were in the world of cool spaces 
Surrounded by leafy trees of the forest 
And the songs of wild birds. 
Here you recall 
That poor draft horse 
Castrated, demolished, a thing spread-eagled and damned, 
Harnessed and shackled. 
This is prolonged hell, 
And whose head downcast, bland mien expressing hope forever lost. 
Gum tree of the city, it's painful 
To see you thus 
Frozen in your turf, blackened with bitumen – 
O! fellow citizen!
What did they do with us? 

© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016 
Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2016
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: bitumen, discrimination, extended metaphor, prejudice,
Form: Free verse

The Sound of Colours

The Sound of Colours
http://gregoryswisdom.blogspot.com.au/2015/07/the-sound-of-colours.html

Red sounds like blood dripping out through some severed artery,
Bursting out in a gush from a severed head, or limb, spluttery.
Or the hot breath of passion in the pulsing darkness, whispery.

Orange is citrus fruit bursting, splattered on the hard ground,
Or the song of choirs bouncing off a chantry's walls all round;
Or a King coming with glorious reforms in an irresistible bound.

Yellow is cows bellowing among buttercups, chewing cud,
Or the rush of cowards, defeated, fleeing through stalling mud;
And the clang of gold beneath a smith's hammering, heavy thud.

Blue signals a k pop singer's lament when there's no Gucci bag;
The sound of birds waking up a drunken, wanton, layabout slag;
Moody jazz oozing through the dark recesses, a misery drag.



Green is the rasping rattle, of green phlegm in asthmatic lungs,
The slithering sliding of serpents in grass darting diabolic tongue;
The creep of wilderness spreading tentacles where man has sprung.

Indigo is rubber tyres flapping, punctured on the bitumen;
Ink splashing out of some wayward, penning fountain;
The slinky rustle of a siren in a dress sleek and silken.

Violet is the siren sliding off her gossamer attire of desire
The rustle of money to quench the flame of prurient fire;

Cancer cells rupturing, oozing from sores dirty and dire.
Categories: bitumen, bereavement, betrayal, color, corruption,
Form: Triolet

The Perfect Place To Live

The sun shines its a beautiful bright star,
As i drive my car its along the bitumen tar,

The trees sway and the bushes breathe,
I want to move to the country i want to leave,

I want to have a garden that can fulfill my needs,
I need to buy a block to have a dwelling and some seeds,

To grow my own crops i could have anything to eat,
Oh how i wish i had this life it really would be neat,

Id have an area for my common herbs,
Id keep a section that could be for the birds,

With vegetables and fruit and even some nuts,
Id be content if i was in a house or even a hut,

Id stock a dam so it was full of healthy fish,
Oh man i think about it i dream and i wish,

Id raise my own animals for a constant meat supply,
Id raise my fruits and vegetables and i really would try,

Id keep goats and chickens for plentiful eggs,
Id keep plenty of water so id never see the dregs,

I would have everything i need a life so simple,
The sun would beam down but i would not crimple,

Id do what i could to be self sufficient,
Id do what i could and try to efficient,

Id grow plenty of gum trees for just enough wood,
If only i had the coin if only i could,

This would be so special for my boy to grow up,
Id go out of my way to let him have a pup,

I know it would be hard that i wont make a living,
But for my boy i truely would be delivering,

Id build a special place for him to go and play,
I'd make sure the dwelling was warm so he could stay,

Id cook on the stove it would be from the fire,
If only i could leave this tainted suburban shire,

This life of living would be damn near free,
I could do want i want i could go hug a tree,

Id keep a garden dedicated to medicine,
If i had the opportunity id try eat some venison,

If i had all of this i could always try to barter,
This is how it should be we should try being smarter,

The sun would rise in the east and set in the west,
It could all be reality until i get layed down to rest,

This would be hard work and that is for sure,
But i would grow so much forever and more,

This life would be so fulfilling, some say it is crazy,
But if i wouldnt want to try then i would be so lazy
Categories: bitumen, community, green, growth, nature,
Form:

Premium Member Violets Quiver

Neck pulsating, close shave shines over whiskers
    Stiff collar pressure, raced anticipation simmers
    Key twist intrigue spurs engine's orange rage 
    Needle throws redline on wide torque gauge


    Jaw rigid, fingers grip cockpit lethal leather wheel
    G-force grabs chest, insolent beast thrusts surreal
    Monster inflamed incredulously adheres to tar
    Salivating lion's ravenous rumble has zero par


    Ripping up bitumen, sardonic responsive tyres rivet 
    Road shred's exhausted under rocket fume exhibit
    Airtight capsule, caramel cow hide hugs tamer
    Eardrums hum, a hundred mile Hyundai shamer

    
    Brawny tawny gold, hot bonnet chrome flashdance
    Purrs her melting eclair aerodynamic performance 
    Pride's pilot elevated by moorish horizon hunts
    Hungry headlights still prey with stealthy stunts




    30th July 2022
    Written for Contest:  Joy 
    Sponsor:   Regina McIntosh
Categories: bitumen, adventure, africa, car, extended
Form: Couplet

Dodge Dat Trukkk

i just shoulda not jumped in front of dat trukkkk....joke sent to me..

saw it happen going to work one morning,
 guy jumped in front of a speeding bus in his little car,
 and braked for the amber light,
......kerlunkkkkkkkkkk.....writeorfff

If ya drivin in ya car,
 ya dumb dum galah,
and ya thinking of dicing with a truck,
the buggers caint stop,
pull up,
till ya deadly ded-head,
 out of luck,
and the bitumen is red from your guitar,
so stay away from truckers bumperbars,
cos funerals always seem 2 bloody suck,
stay in that other lane, ol hound-dog Huck ...

Don Johnson


Been a trucker and seen people cause accidents by jumping in front of speeding Trucks 18 wheelers etc.....they caint stopppppp...if they is carrying several tons, to grind you into jam:(
Categories: bitumen, adventure,
Form: Ballad

Get To Work

Men at work, bumper to bumper
tensile traffic, thick black bitumen.
Everything seems to last longer 
then that grey granulated concrete

that extends from Bodega, Cali-
fornia to Savannah, Georgia.
Blacktop pot-fill smells like
the solid and searing work of roofers;

hardhat knuckle down workers,
men that stretch skyscraper towers,
or suspend themselves over
the ledge of the Golden Gate Bridge.

If only this endless line of steel
on rubber wheels could steam roll
past the frustrated flashing lights
and pinstriped lattes honking horns.

If only these orange jump suites,
(sloth shaped men on armrest shovels,)
spent less time blathering like this poem,
we’d all be able to get to work.
Categories: bitumen, angst, funny, life, parody,
Form: Quatrain

Unspoken Soul

UNSPOKEN    SOUL

She was all lost; fantasized a world
On the bitumen, none resembled her
Binnacles kept empty; let gusty waves guide her
Bid  goodbye  to  a  silent  night  under  the  mistletoe ;  scrounging  for  serendipity 	
Stars  were  callous ; she- an  embodiment  of  callowness , distracted  by  camellia  could  not  find  a  way  out  of  her  perplexity 

Deranged by the deathly silence, she hurried down the rails
Nothing more than a lost shadow, catching her own steps
Oblivion to the dogma-‘’It was all between mirrors, she was walking.’’
Ecstatically held a door; optimism would fail soon

Concussion in mind took a brutal turn 
Damsel in distress, lost the sight of the shore

Once again journey to end
Defiant; stood in an apposite way 
Masts were low, no camellia this time

Envisaged…..red horizon covered the ocean, no sign of life
Dismayed; developed an aversion towards the scenery

Cried hard, but what could be heard above the dead soul was just –“SILENCE”.
Categories: bitumen, deep, fantasy, lost, visionary,
Form: Free verse
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