Best Clamour Poems
“Real love brings about calm—not inner torment. True love allows you to be at peace with yourself and with God." Yasmin Mogahed
When you hide behind silence,
despite the crying violins of
irritating sinister symphonies,
I'll search for you in the midst of
the meadows of your mind,
lighting lanterns in your darkness.
I was born to soothe the tips
of pearlescent sorrowful tears,
which float upon satin textures
of your rare Adonis blue soul.
I'll be the honeydew to nourish
your fragile wings to float
freely from dahlia to sunflower
and if the winds are cruel,
my hands will become a cocoon,
so when the season offers no comfort,
you can rest within the warmth
of my protective palms.
I'll silently listen to the gentle sound
of your butterfly breaths,
until you once again take flight.
I hope you always return.
Amidst the clamour and chaos
of porcelain paths with feathered fate,
I'll be the 'still water' which washes
away the thick clouds draped
around your heart.
Categories:
clamour, love,
Form:
Free verse
Deeper still the Woodland calls me
Further yet, she lures, enthralls me
Hapless I, with charms she hauls me
To her unknown hinterlands.
Up, I see the forest giants
Standing tall in self-reliance
Ancient, gnarled, in defiance
Weathering the winter's hands.
Down, I see leaves, fallen, floating
To which place, they are unknowing
In the streamlet's eddies flowing
Dancing to an ageless tune.
Further on, I gaze in wonder
As a river falls in thunder
Misting torrents cascade under
Slanting rays of afternoon.
Scattered rocks are graced with flowers
Breathing in perennial showers
On the brink of Nature's towers
Far above the bustling towns.
Never could an earthly City
Paint a picture half so pretty
Not could sing such lovely ditty
As the Woodland's captive sounds.
In my ear they whisper softly
Whistling bird and peaks so lofty
"Whither went, and for what sought ye
When ye left this tangled space?
For ye find here scenes of splendour
Vistas grande in awesome grandeur
Rugged views they be, or tender
Never could ye leave this place"
For to me she is appealing
I and she, both glances stealing
Lost in unknown depths of feeling
As I see her changing face.
Far from wild clamour ringing
I can hear the crickets singing
See the points of starlight gleaming.
Never would I leave this place.
Categories:
clamour, bird, imagery, mountains, nature,
Form:
Personification
Listen to the beat of life, hear its thunder,
yet underneath lurks a murmuring whisper.
Some days almost unheard, others louder
always there it taunts, teasing like a lover.
Deep within you know who makes this whisper,
it is life itself ticking away as you falter.
Yes now it shows its face as it comes closer,
our old friend death claims us with loud clamour.
Categories:
clamour, death, life,
Form:
Monorhyme
A place called Copenhagen, do you know its song?
Joy and laughter safely ride waves of light.,
and summer days are twenty-five hours long.
Do you still hear the sprocket's cadence and pedals din..
our hearts saying "follow me!" to clamour, and climax in sun,
along the perch fishing canals and Strøget's shops.
You wore Pegasus sandals and a Nørgaard 101 striped t-shirt.,. two sizes too small,
our bikes were true friends, our chains sang in unison,
to the lonely smiles of the raggedy ann town folk.
From the biergarten our parents look on..
sipping Carlsberg Pilsner and Mulberry Aquavit snaps.
Just a hint of sadness hidden behind sunglasses,
they knew that innocent sun too..
Let's sup on ourselves unrepentant,
where no one else can dine.
Your basket holds sweet fruit of existence..
the fresh bread of light in mine.
We'll make a pact to return one day,
where sunshine brightens the May,
and If the clouds turn to grey,
or we're separated by a crowd of strangers..
I'll look for you at the center, searching through the bins,
for what two foolish lovers threw away..
Among Kewpie dolls, sandals & scarves,
clothed déjà vu dreams abound.
Yet true hearts yearn for eternity still,
in Tivoli Garden's lost and found.
Categories:
clamour, friendship love, fruit, holiday,
Form:
Free verse
What a clamour
What a noise
To bring social justice
To answer the cries
That's gone on for centuries
That they keep maintaining
With promises and lies
Black lives matter
So we shout
But who hears the cries
When the establishment do nought
After the cotton fields
Up comes the continuity
In the justice system
When we are gunned down by agents
Who prey on our community
The leaders are aware
But do they really care
When they fail to dismantle
A system , which is so unfair
Slavery maybe abolished
But injustices lingers on
In its many disguises
And the many layers
We face, all day long
Martin Luther made a stand
Bob Marley, sung redemption songs
Freedom fighters raise their rifles
And in the graveyard
Gather the mourning throngs
There is no hope for change
When you maintain a system
That heaps suffering on the wounded
And depravity prolongs
For in the utterings
There is a promise of change
But when it comes to implementation
Not A Stroke
No progress made.
Categories:
clamour, america, angst, black african
Form:
Free verse
Immortal waves of time,
Clamour on the sea of life,
They crash down on the crags of flesh
And wear them to the grains.
The cells, the salted dust,
The sand beneath the hooves,
The iron feet of giants
Severed down to vanished forms.
Gulls of storm-head black,
Eyes of granite beads,
And beaks derived of bone-yards
House their aspic sodden tongues.
Cries that ram the caves
Vibrating screeching goads the dark,
Receding as the dying light
In seconds after life.
Categories:
clamour, death, life,
Form:
Verse
Once glorious, but now rusting buildings, lined every dusty road.
Somehow everywhere clung the smell of cow dung.
My heavy bag, a giant rucksack,
Most of it I shipped right back.
I thought there wasn't much glitz or glamour,
And fought rough in a bit of a clamour.
Tuk-Tuk's going tut-tut, the hawkers piercing eyes and traders raise the price.
Welcome to Mumbai!
First, I met Tony, who promised to show me,
All the sights and sounds and where stuff might be found.
He exerted Rupees and expertly duped me,
But for a guided tour, I'd have expected to pay more.
My first "queue" for train tickets,
I was newly in the thick of it,
Could they organise a straight line?
They're walking on the train line!!
The infusion of livestock into the traffic,
My confusion and shock, all of this madness,
Each to their own, but, who the hell planned this?
But first impressions are often misleading,
Best get some rest, a wash and a feeding.
An open mind, that beliefs, often null and blind,
Just might find, can lead toward the fuller life.
From the mountains to the Thar desert,
Everywhere, I found was rather pleasant,
Lived like a king, paid like a peasant.
The colours everywhere and flowers worn in hair,
The spices on display and price you have to pay,
Surprises me to say, she'd grown upon me more each day.
And I had five months to travel through,
I bid a sad goodbye India, I'll see you real soon.
On scented breeze, she'd whispered to me,
As her saffron voice caressed my ears,
She hinted with ease and flickered desire,
While cinnamon curls lingered from her hair,
and nutmeg sweetened my dreams.
Categories:
clamour, travel,
Form:
Free verse
Confined within rusty iron bars,
grounded eternally
to hop and trip,
wishing to fly
into Heaven’s starry bower,
a bird b e a t s her wings in vain,
voicing her anguish in tremulous trills.
There is hunger
at every tip of her feather
to fly and flutter
through the pathless air,
piping melodious tunes
to drown the earth,
seeing lands never eyed
by anyone before.
Nursing her dreams,
she beats her wings again,
to reach a place where the soul sings.
Alas!
The clamour of her beating
resounds,
and she falls asleep exhausted!
In her sleep,
her desires limp back.
She dreams of shooting
into higher altitudes,
and becoming a speck
among fleecy clouds.
But she knows
the sky that stretches limitless
is a premise
far beyond her reach.
As she sees birds in flock
flying away,
to seamless ends
sculpting sweet images,
in her vision,
she sees herself soaring high
and she beats her wings
again and again,
to feel tired
and feeling tired to fall asleep,
and in her snooze,
to d r e a m again!
Categories:
clamour, angst, bird, freedom,
Form:
Free verse
In a world that continues to grow cold.
The attitude, "who cares, what about me"?
Those seeking power, becoming too bold.
Deciding factors, what will they be?
Have we lost sight of what is real?
We are drifting further away.
The truth, we try to conceal.
Our arrogance is on display.
Chaos brings a need for peace.
But distractions lead us astray.
For a moment, let all clamour cease,
and step out into the day.
The beauty of nature awaits you,
patiently standing by.
To offer a breathtaking view,
of all between earth and sky.
The sun, moon, mountains and sea,
riches beyond compare.
Priceless, yet they remain free.
To those who see and are aware.
Nature gives, for us to receive,
all that delights the heart.
In it's truth, we must believe,
a place where healing can start.
Categories:
clamour, appreciation, beauty, inspiration, nature,
Form:
Quatrain
The visceral pains were sharp, stinging and stern!
She swallowed them, in the bloody biting bitterness.
The gory talons of the fat obstetricians hung loose,
Ready to clamour for the afterbirth, salivating like hungry female canines.
“Think of the baby,” said the stony-hearted, vampire-looking hag;
Whose fat mouth dripped blood.
Back home, a shrieking owlet flew over her husband’s hut.
A strange whirlwind shot through the door, and tore the roof atwain.
The news broke: she had gone mortis gestationalis!
The evil child had popped out his left leg first, in protest;
And had strangled mama with its hands - from inside!
It was not about the flat-tyred ambulance.
The drunken doctor,
Who stored his equipment at Mama Phina’s bar, was not to blame.
Neither was it about the theft of sanitisers and lignocaine,
Nor was it about the leaking roofs;
And the stench all around.
It was the craving for sweet blood and tender baby flesh!
William Smelly lay snug in his grave,
As we lowered the two caskets to their final resting place.
One carried a dysfunctional human factory,
And the other was empty.
Categories:
clamour, africa, corruption, death, health,
Form:
Free verse
When I spotted Saint George in a van,
I feared that his horse might be lame.
Or worse, in a Doggomeat can,
when hurt in some chivalric game.
Saint George, it appeared was not happy,
now carried around in this way.
He used to dress well and quite snappy,
with armour and sword on display.
It didn’t seem right, when I saw him,
in wellies and minus a hat.
I expect my Saint to be trim,
not looking like some bureaucrat.
“You there!” said Saint George to a swain,
“I need you to help with my quest.
They’re wanting a Dragon thing slain,
because it’s becoming a pest.”
“Noble Saint, may it please you to hark,
‘tis Ramblers and Naturalists Day.
They’re swarming all over his Park
and demanding a new Right of Way.”
“Yon Dragon is hid in his cave,
all cringing from lads and the lasses.
He claims he’s no longer so brave,
when facing the wrath of the masses.”
The Saint then climbed back in his banger,
but soon got it stuck in the mud.
He next was assailed by the clamour
of peace keepers baying for blood!
The Entrance, he got a surprise,
when told he must purchase a ticket.
‘For seeing a Dragon who cries,
when hiding behind a small thicket!’
Saint George soon fastened his tabard,
(of bio-degradable tin),
then drew out his gun from its scabbard
and gingerly ventured within.
“Brave Saint! You have come and will save me,
before I am forced back to crime
or ghastly do-gooders enslave me.
Thank goodness you’ve got here in time.”
“I’ve finished all Dragonly trades
and prisoners now been released.
I love little children and maids.
My fire fighting days are all ceased.
Saint George said, “I must go ahead.
This isn’t the world as we knew it.
The age of old Chivalry’s dead.”
He pointed his gun – and he slew it!
~
For Judy's "Hail to the Dragon Slayer' Competition.
Categories:
clamour, england,
Form:
Verse
The clarion call i obey, i was called to serve my fatherland,
to experience a different cultures, norms, beliefs, ideologies to see and feel a different region..
Days gone by, months gone by, i understand the people's clamour, their unimaginable unbearable hardships,
The weather is cruel and harsh, it stings like a scorpion bite,
The sun is hot it hits deep into the depth of my skull..
Breeze ceased,
Sweat dropping,
Water is expensive,
Life is expensive too,
Tribalism is venomous,
Segregation is disastrous,
The leaders are heartless, they show favoritism, regionalism and expect obedience, harmony and peaceful co-existence from the masses... One Nigeria they said, i bet that's only on paper..
Our leaders enjoy luxury,
the poor masses are chaotic,
A layman prioritised family problems rather than societal change.. A bad orientation leads to misunderstanding, the three majorities are considered while the minorities are at bay..
Our country is in turmoil, herdsmen stories on the newspapers front pages, their settlement burned down to ashes,
Farmers ambushed and killed..
Life lost..
No peace within!
Our leaders ain't planning for a better tomorrow but for tomorrow's election, several years down the line our stories still remain the same..
My fatherland was my pride now my dissapointment,
So many graduates unemployed, the jobs are reserved for the sons and daughters of the elite..
The street is filled up with crimes...
I exclaimed!! Who will bring back harmony to our dying nation??...
Categories:
clamour, cry, depression,
Form:
Narrative
Time To Let Go
A handful of paper and worn ticket stubs
So many downed trees and rainforest shrubs
Shredded and mashed into paper pulp
The waste o'er the world is enough to make one gulp
Each of these stubs carries a very true tale
Of flights overseas way beyond any pale
Collected and stored for he knew not why
They became an obsession yet in a drawer they did lie
Perhaps when I am old with grandchild on my knee
Stubs strewn 'cross the floor haphazard to see
"Pick one up child and pass it to me
And I'll tell you of that flight and tell the story"
And with the paper in hand I'll smile and I'll start
And bewilder the child with an orator's art
And embellish the truth where I may not recall
And watch the child's face enraptured in thrall.
And bring each worthless stub a life of its own
Enrich the flat card by making each child moan
As they shriek and they clap and they clamour for more
As I return the collection once more to the drawer.
But this is just dreaming -just romantic notion
That wastes idle time and causes commotion.
For there is no grandchild,nor prospect that I see
From my kids who lost interest in my stories and me.
Perhaps one day all this might just change
Then my stories I'll make and history rearrange
Until then I admit and ponder and mutter
That these stubs are old paper and unwanted clutter.
So I emptied the drawer and the stubs will be tossed
If the time comes then I will count the cost.
By then more adventures will have been and gone
I don't think that those grandchildren will ever receive none.
For if that time comes I am sure there'll be more
Flight ticket stubs filling the bottom drawer....
Categories:
clamour, feelings, introspection, nostalgia,
Form:
Rhyme
I passed in a garden
with the gaits of the wind.
I saw the owner of garden
with the art of love
in the look of a rose.
The branches of all the
trees were ornamented with
the blossom of the apple.
Bravo, the art of the charm
of the spring. The green
velvet of the grass has
spread its skirt for seeing
the munificence in the
hearts of my companions.
Flowing with the joy, a pond
in the garden took the fishes
that song the love melodies to
the abode of dream. Bravo, the
art of the charm of the spring.
I heard the joy of love in
the clamour of hundred
swallows. Then I saw the
feast of the trees that had
the branches ornamented
with the blossoms of love.
They song together the
melody of unity: bravo
the art of the charm of
the spring.
Categories:
clamour, seasons,
Form:
Concrete
FOREVER IS OUR PRAYER
When petals climb to reach their swell
they ray a hue 'neath the sun's spell
so are the hearts that rise to quell
wings of love fluttering yell
Twenty-four seven we walk the talk
no dull moments left there to float
Distance crossed our joyful tears touched
pushing our smile to rush to ace flash
Love's peak: its urgency we don't wanna let go
Falling, falling deeply in love is what we show
nights young where at the gazebo, you hold my gaze
let alone my lips you confine so chaste
The heavens aegis with twinkling stars
they suddenly deliver some liquid pour
Unmindful of such, we amble round
chirping crickets hum our background sound
Scents of lavender hover the room air
as there and then you hold my hips for a floor dance
Night gone old but our holds began their mould
Upon hills and caves we clamour to surrender
Beats and breathing leaps and pounds like a drum
Ah! Even the lazy moon strum his guitar
Us twine like the ivy fall softly on sheets
Sharing a flood of sweats and sweets
Sad, there is two years and more we need to hurdle
but this better than never taking the risk
Wired and wind, us, we vow for more than ten days
as forever together we crave in our prayers.
__________________________________________
O.E. GUILLERMO
9:47 am, May 1, 2015
Categories:
clamour, feelings, life, people, places,
Form:
Free verse