Best Clamors Poems
On troubled roads of life, when opposing sides collide,
Conflict of emotions clamors, agitating ego and pride,
While empathy warns: let forgiveness be your guide,
As benevolent angels, in missives of compassion chide.
Mired in wins and losses, when humanity strums offbeat,
Adversaries propagate hatred, and blatantly mistreat,
As meaningless conversations puff up, donning conceit,
While expressions of solemn amiability retreat in defeat.
A proffer of calm and goodwill, checks enemy’s reign
When sanctity prevails, calming a perturbed domain,
As atonement and humility heal, soothing angst of pain
And disturbed vibes seeking revenge, begin to wane.
As nobility of repentance tenders offers of mercy, grace,
Malevolent behaviors recede, ashamed in disgrace,
And enlightenment of intellect inspires vacuous space,
When hosting redemption, reformed enemies embrace.
In affluence of cognitive thoughts informed minds elate
Harboring tolerance and sympathy, discarding hate,
Being harmonious with peace, mundane life they liberate,
Achieving balance within, unfazed by travails of fate.
Essence melancholic bemoans, echoing soul’s doleful cry
When clamors of unrequited love, earnestly amplify,
Bruised yearnings of deep desires, as lovelorn heart sighs,
For the longings of shattered passions, tearing her eyes.
Deep feelings of emptiness, no longer can she bear,
Burning with intensity, as wistful flames of rejection flare,
From the void of emotions, from sinful, loveless affair,
Bawling now in frustration, blaring anguish of despair.
Soul grieves for love elusive, she believed to be true,
The kind that blossoms hearts; and doting minds woo,
Alas! It was a tantalizing allure, irrevocably gone askew,
An illusion, alike gems, refracting from morning dew.
Soul rises from abandonment, escaping abyss of grief,
Deploying enlightenment, vying calm of ethereal relief,
As cohesion and congruity reconnect to angelic bliss,
Releasing negative feelings, rekindling love-vibes amiss.
Spirits reinvigorated emerge from dreaded goodbye
As soul’s insight redirects influence of love drifting awry,
Exiting barren desert, to find oasis on the other side,
Entrusting mystique of love, passions romantic confide.
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
When Love comes pounding on a drum,
it comes on strong and fast and hard
until two hearts in synch beat passion's song.
Sometimes love comes clanging down the tracks.
It clashes or it clamors to be heard,
so at its crossing, meaning is obscured.
Other times, love lurks or it attacks.
Unrequited, love can pierce or burn
until its ventricle turns deathly black.
And then are times love gently climbs
or eases sure-footed to one's door
or sweetly seeps and saturates the soul.
It's strong and yet it's soft.
It doesn't sting or snip. It listens
and reverberates the whispers of the heart.
Oct. 10, 2016
Peace and unity sing in harmony, echoing worldwide,
When acts of humility replace revenge-infused pride,
When narrowness of mind, naked ambitions subside,
When nations of goodwill, stand together side-by-side.
No inconsolable tears, flooding grief in mothers’ eyes,
No gloomy dawns rise, in smoke of war on sunny skies,
Clamors of hungry, displaced souls, no longer agonize;
No more shattered dreams, buried alive, to eulogize.
Nothingness ceases to vacate sanctity of self-esteem,
Children now rejoice, reminiscing in Cinderella-dream,
Vying bliss of tranquil, endearments of amity redeem,
Discarding ill will, shrieking from yore of vicious regime.
Hiroshima, Nagasaki—echoes of sad, remorseful past,
Resonate horror and shock, from memories aghast;
A world without war, a wish too far, yet close to heart,
Achievable when covenants of life don’t keep us apart.
Dignity of humanity ranks supreme, as priorities change,
Nations engage in educational and cultural exchange,
Farms and factories hum, ensuring hunger is eliminated
As peace and unity toll, from hearts and minds elated.
I sit myself down
where one could hear a pin drop . . .
poetry clamors
aug 31, 2019
for Silent One's Silence Contest
I read the burn to hand-feed
the dark with pills of pleasure ~
twilight entombed
within troubled walls,
swollen and sore,
throbbing with ache,
an insatiable appetite
to relish the realism
of your silhouette of sapience,
a breathing poem
with metaphors in motion,
meticulously merged
with the musk of euphoric musings…
O bronco wild, white force,
the bona fide heat
heaving in bedazzled breeze
around the fragile fingers
of my unclothed heart.
Walk me out of the devious
doors of demented dreams;
free-flow me to a realm
of quenching quiescence,
where condemnatory pupils
do not imprison
the tongue that savors
the flavor of foreverness,
with everlasting vapors
of pulsing peridots
staining these panopticon lips,
sealed with softly sewn secrets.
Serve me your sanguine silk…
They do not sympathize
with the bleeding thorns
painfully wanting ~
sleeplessly yearning
to trace the honest waves,
catalyzing the spark
awaiting escape,
away from the cross-eyed fables
fabricating the fragrance
of my zealous love ~
your rose lady,
restless to bloom as one,
rooted to the runes written
across your ambidextrous armor.
I am tattered and torn,
stuck in a scrutinized cycle,
yet still I refuse
to let these petals wilt.
I let my thoughts wander
to the waking wilderness,
where gypsy blossoms
caress and nurture
the penetrating luster
of pearl-light sepals,
resembling my damask spirit,
unstained by the sepulchral ashes ~
dust-laden, kohl-corpse chains
of faithless society,
of blood serpents
masking malevolence,
pretending to be well-wishers…
I care not for their callous clamors,
cruelty caved
in charismatic lies,
deciphering my virtuous dawn
as dangerous delirium;
so take me away ~
to flawless fields
bathed in orange topaz skies…
~ I am yours to worship,
your masterpiece of paradise ~
***Inspired by the artwork; The Lady Rose, by Paul Delvaux
Shiny suited man growling on cell phones
Selling BMWs to tidy his life
Salesman pleads in begging tones...
“Full Coverage” the shiny man moans
“On Sale” says the customer’s wife
To reveal gray and black BMW clones
The salesman barks with hasty tones
“Our insurance will save your life”
Policemen pardon when it is known
But the cost is in the Twilight Zone
digging into your pocket like a knife
Is the status worth your shaking bones
Salesman clamors til it is known
“Power brakes” to save your life.
The Silver suited man already owns
Your soul and all its weary moans
Reeling from a large cash price
BMW and sophisticated clones
Weeping ulcers will soon be known
6/15/2015
Upon the transit city streets
Where all the faces seldom meet
and hands are seldom held in greet
as ears and eyes avoid hungers reek
Who clamors for the hungry born?
While food is stuffed in fattened heads
delivered from thoughts of those unfed
while on the corner just up ahead
a man sits, weary, worn…
Corporations greedy towers
Counting coup and gaining power
Diamonds on their loved ones shower
Thousand dollar suits empower
Who offers hope for poor’s new born?
Unpaid a worthy wage to each
their monthly bills in hope to meet
Body hungry, so kids can eat
A man sits, weary, worn…
Fists clasping hold to wallets tight
Gathering things, their given right
Reaching always for richer heights
Employees grieve, though not in sight
Who suffers, man, poor wages born?
When unattained, money sought
Though fair wages are clearly bought
a paycheck, cashed, is stretched too taunt
A man sits, weary, worn…
Hiding funds in a foreign land
Tax evasions rape sovereign sand
Lobbying to hold the wealthy hand
Meager sums paid retirement plans
Greed begets the poor wages born
while feet get wet for need of shoes
Though they smile, hearts sing the blues
When second job hopes come unglued
A man sits, weary, torn…
On 08/31/14 I declared this 4 day undertaking completed. I’ve tweaked to the best of my ability. The rhyme scheme was not the challenge, it was the meter I found hard to follow through in each verse. Not anywhere near what I consider the best of my scribbles but here it is !!
darkness clamors --
amid dead silence
a green-eyed phantom
08/14/16
What Remains
by
Rick Folker
June, 2017
Kansas City, MO
When the crowd clamors
And the tocsin clangs
When the mighty and powerful
Crush the weak, the vulnerable,
The poverty that chains and shames
When fear fights fiercely
With the menacing gang
Silencing the prophets
With their poisonous slang
When the refugee seeks safety
Those sojourners are met with a
Door slamming
And a deafening bang!
When these omens and portents are
The normal sturm und drang
Of a soul-less people clinging to
Myths of endless positive change
When all of these mindless, pointless,
Endless
Strife-filled days
Divide and dwindle down
To the ashes of the last
Death pangs
A Remnant Remains
A Remnant Remains
And life and love are reborn and return
Again! and Again! and Again!
When every conscious thought must cease
Held captive till the sweet release
When all else simply falls away
there is no night, there is no day
When life is held in Pleasure's will
and all that clamors becomes...still
When Passion plays her final hand
and all succumbs to her demand
When tremors thunder and excite
In throes of Pleasure's righteous might
When our hands grip and bodies writhe
In wait of crash of coming tide
When senses are at highest peak
and soul is trembling, breathless, weak
That moment when to self I'm true
is that sweet moment I'm one with you
Eileen Manassian
My heart was broken
Scattered fragments, evidence of our clash
Drops of blood flowing down my face
Alone, wounded, bashed, my feeling
Out of tune, broken harmony, shattered peace
Cold eyes, a soul without music
No melody, my ears can’t hear the music,
Picture imperfect, our dreams are broken,
But something still clamors for peace
Even as our swords clash
Our war continues, enmity cherished as a feeling
Weakness and tiredness now wrap my once cheerful face
Blood trailing down, but I keep a bold face
War cries the new soul music
Now an unknown solitude is my feeling
Some semblance with a soldier broken
Broken walls, monuments destroyed signatures of our clash
I’m a victim yearning for peace
Buried six feet was now the hope of peace
Focused was our gaze upon an expressionless face
The ground quaked as the titans clash
The trumpets ever rising, happiness in war music
New resolve formed even from a heart now broken
I hold onto the last strand of the love-like feeling
She says, ever strong and true to my feeling
Like a still flowing river, my thoughts are serenaded with peace
A tear from my eyes reminds me my heart is broken
But unbroken is the radiation of love glowing on my face,
Like a beautiful orchestra his words to my ears are music
We let down our sword, ending the clash
Love, the new feeling, sealed swords never to clash
New music filled with melody, rejuvenated peace
As smiles return to our faces, we mend our hearts broken
Sean-Kelz™
Tormented by unconfessed sins’ grief gloom
My soul is vexed from its self-righteous poise
Defying it draws me nigh toward angst doom
Denying thereby haunts me with guilt’s noise.
Justifying as human nature feat
My heart blames pride of its dominion height
Midst the championing insult of deceit
Leaving me forlorn, bereft of bliss’ light.
Seeking forgiveness against distress-woes
My spirit clamors for serene haven
Trusting the Lord God to vanquish sorrows
Claiming His love’s clemency from heaven.
Grateful to Christ for His pardon-filled grace
I bow down to Him, exultant with praise.*
*Psalm 28:7 The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped: therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth; and with my song will I praise him.
January 10, 2020
Honorable Mention, "STRAND SELECT G..."
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 2/8/2020.
Fast as an atomic banshee, he roils sacred halls
of White House clutches levers with brass balls
American powers remain unrestrained when he calls
Armada to exorcise imagine aery dragons,
he inarticulately falls
non-communicative, faux eruditely generative,
and heartily galls
toward this introspective kickstarter male,
and most likely others he appalls.
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My inner guru hankers to share voice
amidst increasing din
and clamors in reaction to insidious machinations fin
hushed via Machiavellian offal prince,
who unleashes clout with Cheshire grin
unconcerned about population, chaste,
from their wells Fargo wing.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Most every citizen banker, and kin
stared down vis a vis fierce-some intimations
catapult escalating, spin
laughing at rigged voting outlook
gratefully inflicts populace with monstrous win
doomsday soldiers -
art of the deal book not writ by said urchin.
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Though regularly affiliated with top notch
kudos to virtual soapbox platform
re: all poetry to express Bing averse
toward ill feted Barron settlement
of United States government tossed like scotch
on thar hocks, thus an uneasy angst
also invisibly grabs me by the crotch
cuz das Trump power monger,
I fear rubric of democracy, he will botch!
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This poem alternately titled -
harbinger of political debacle wolf find antipode
where toxic brew at crack of 12 a.m.
January 20th 2017 doth bode
doctored pregnant swollen tidal anarchistic military toad
deeds sheepishly shape into battalions
in tandem - fraternal order of police erode
Civilian protesters unite with ordinary citizen bankers
crowdsource sing metallic ca clash to goad