Best Clang Poems
In ode to all who succumb
through wayward passages
lined of scribble notes
dripping ink’s savagery,
staining cursive patterns
in Sylvia-like depressions
Jarred bells ring
down lost tunnels
around each dark corner…clang
from steeples we chase
and beds we lie
draped in sadness
and shapes of
poetic happenstance
Tear drop vinaigrette
spiced of leftover lifetimes
drizzled on leafy desperation
bids a tired farewell
before time collects
the deserved rewards
Categories:
clang, life, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Lithesome steps lead me to an ancient
temple
Perched across a bay, weeds and
hyacinths curl between my feet,
Where mist refills bowl of cotton clouds
As rustling breeze ascends on skyline's ladder.
In stillness, I lounge on the pew to whisper unsaid psalmic devotions
for a world which aches for calmer
retreat--
That I reach a peak where the mind
becomes absent--
Then I hear them , a medley of peals
Lifting me higher in regulated tempo from gong
rhythms,
A music swelling in warm temperance Until warm kiln of light and radiant
fireflies stir my kundalini.
On this treasured moment, a sentient
energy
Cleanses my beingness from past sins -- mortal and venial-
That I listen to the clang of my inner child's soft echoes entering my veins:
Somewhere in blank spaces, bells swing of
innocent laughter...a treble,
a clap
bringing me to the kindness of youth,
And my body stays quiet, welcoming this rite of
passage on days when the spirit calls for an
interlude's break...a meditative
connection with
the self--
without the need to speak.
Categories:
clang, silence,
Form:
Imagism
It was the bronzed bell of a tinseled Ocean ship.
Until destiny was scuttled by a fiery water witch.
In time, it became the haunting clang upon a reef.
A macabre Nic Nac for cliques that ruled the deep.
They returned like blue birds, lonely for a blossoming.
To pay homage to every sailor overtaken by the sea.
They lay bouquets of flowers, over shadowed grief...
as ghosts pared sweet memories into paper effigies.
Between shuffles of worn decks and ninety proof lips.
They spin tales of crimson seas and horrible dorsal fins...
Torn hearts and sails, forever on a starboard list
Drifting between a blue refrain and the salty mist.
In the graying vein of time, everything's forgotten.
The sweet angelic, the mundane, the eternally rotten.
Gravestones hoard salt within their granite cracks.
Tokens to a time when auroras bled into blackness.
One by one the crew will drift from this pearled realm.
Riding TradeWinds into the gilded scented heavens...
or becoming driftwood, in the brackish heart of hell...
as the captain sways to the clang of his beloved water bell.
Categories:
clang, grief,
Form:
Rhyme
Winds constant through the trees, grounding
Designer's chemtrail plans, if just for today.
Fresh air reminds me of forgotten hope, when
Dreams ran on laughter's wings, and everyone
Was free.
No speeches rang from State Fair soapboxes,
Imploring masses to wake from their slumber.
The daily grind was once more fresh-brewed,
Without even a hint of deep-underground
Military-bases.
Generations secure, water and air protected
By honest politicians, reflecting our vote.
There were no clandestine schools for crisis
Actors, false-flag disasters weren't needed
To dis-arm the people.
Tho stock markets were crashing with a familiar
Clang, trust was unwavoring, faith in our captain.
If only today, life lived in a dream, I'll savor this
Moment, to pause for peace.
08/23/15
Categories:
clang, allegory,
Form:
Blank verse
The mighty steed was black as night.. (Cobolt was his name)
His rider, Blade, a Warrior Knight
Swiftly through the dark forest he rode
A realm he ruled with an iron code
He was in search of his magical blue amulet
Stolen he believed by a raven.. his enemy's evil pet
Blade was aided in his search by his gray owl
Who flew night and day as for the raven he prowled
His enemy, Prince Zoxi, waited at the forest edge
To kill Blade he had made a solemn pledge
As Blade neared the end of the forest
He drew his sword , which glowed with a fiery zest
The two warriors met at the break of dawn
A fight to the death now began
The battle raged through the early morn
The swords echoed with each clang
Deftly,.. Blade sidestepped a thrust.. and his fiery sword found its mark
Prince Zoxi fell to the ground
The Warrior Knight of the forest dark
had inflicted the fatal wound
He ripped his amulet from Zoxi's neck
And on his mighty steed he made his trek
To his dark forest haven
And his gray owl overhead, and in his talons, the evil raven
The caw of the raven was heard no more
And over the dark forest the gray owl soars
A new enemy from the west, Bomani,.. The mountain warrior, drew near
He shudders when the thunder of the mighty steed he hears
And riding boldly to meet him as with speed his mighty steed explodes
Is.. BLADE.. The Warrior Knight of dark abode
Categories:
clang, adventure, dark, evil,
Form:
Rhyme
Sleeping In Nana’s
day concludes in glory
beyond the forest wall
suspended on a whippoorwill’s song
a muffled out board glides the narrows
past Hick’s farm
humming its sated fisher home
somewhere a screen door slams
crack, into the gather of night
sharp contrast to settled sounds of dusk
while cow bells soft metallic clang
echoes the way home
for lowing milky cattle, through the wood
fire in the next room hisses greedily
welcome to another meal of logs
a briar pipe taps staccato on the granite hearth
now click lit to quiet drawing sound
the old daybed creaks from seated weight
a coffee cup thunks down upon the arm
nightly news rustles into place
outside again, the bullfrogs
begin their baritone calls
a hungry raccoon chitters on the shore
then loons begin their plaintive calls
to distant cold faced stars
as wind brings a hushing of the night
each sound gathers to me
a cottage lullaby
rest safe and warm
drifting off to sleep
in Nana’s bed.
Categories:
clang, childhood, summer, sunset, ,
Form:
Free verse
I sit alone in the forest among the grass and moss one day
I hoped to grasp fulfillment in my heart and alone pray
I shut my eyes to see my surrounding about me
I felt suddenly so cheerful and free
The sun beams leaped and danced upon my shoulder
They pressed against my warm skin much bolder
And as I listened to the sun shining
I seen in the midst of my darkness it gleaming
It told me of it's story through minds eye, I too see
Oh it made me feel so free
I continued to listen what the leaves then told me
Brushing upon one another so swiftly
It was a sound, oh my I listened delightfully
The leaves then burst in laughter, swish swish ha ha,
Chuckling ever so high as the wind did blow
It's extending branches twisted to and fro
Tickling one another of the full free winds frinzy
In the distance the church bells rang
Clang, Clang, Clang,
I even hear the people inside as they sang
The flow of their voices rested gently on the evening wind
For through eternity in this place I wanted to spend
The sunlight no more upon me within it's driven range
The coolness of the evening jumped out at me
I sit a bit longer in my minds eye the scenery to see
Again as I gasped, I suddenly do feel so free
I listened to the distant buzzing of the bees
The coolness looked so vicious and so strong
I shut my eyes no longer, the darkness was all around
With my eyes I seen the sad, dark, gloomy mossy ground.
What fun I'd had today as I shut my eyes and watched the
scenery with mostly my ears
Now a blind man of his in tuned senses, a Gift from God to him given
and should never fear the darkness, or challenged by his fears.
For that day I spent in the darkness sensing all the landscape
Over and through my senses a lovely gift God did over me drape.
Categories:
clang, naturegod, me, god, me,
Form:
Rhyme
The track marks are exposed, so you’ll have to look twice without getting caught. Your mind starts to wonder what it is he’s been shot full of, Cocaine? Gasoline and formaldehyde? Fabric softener or blue ne high. You’ll have to swallow hard because your throat’s gone dry from the bone dust. Reality is a broken jar of afterbirth, no longer able to contain the past remnants of truth, and shame… leaking all over the shag carpet. Spilling behind the couch into the cracks in the walls. Everyone can see the cigarette burns in the drapes. The neighbors are complaining about the sound of braking glass. Your smile’s gone cold and grey. The lines in your face run deep as wood grain and as smooth as a razor canoe on a river of flesh. You’ve taken shelter in the dry hardened shell of yesterday’s corpse. The sound track to your dreams are of rusty things that scream and clang, and “never mind” is the only thing that follows when you speak your mind in bits and pieces. Father, bless this child of sin. Consume her eyes and salvage her skin. Drape it across her mother’s face to bind and hold the tears in. The sweet nectar of heaven drips down from the trees onto your brow, anointed, salvation….religious disease. I don’t deny these things in my life that I can’t quite grasp, cold winds, locust song, and haunting gasps. Invoke your true self in the blood without fear. My smile’s a scalpel across your eyes. There’s no denying these things that dwell within your bones.
Categories:
clang, art, blue, culture,
Form:
Ballad
Beauty bows and surrenders at her bare feet,
The gold glitters jealous of her glowing skin,
Her bright eyes light embers of passion within,
Men yield to her will!
Warriors clang their weapons to fight to die,
Flags with horseman fly, write history again,
While sat in emerald throne, she rules their minds,
With potion of love!
Is there a poison more deadly than such love?
A woman to whom the Roman empire bows,
Juice of poison berry* she put in own eyes,
He who loves her - dies!
Mighty Caesar or Anthony were like clay,
Their tirades, history fade in her presence,
They lost in war, lost in her love, end by knife,
She put Asp to breast!
Sapphic stanza Poetry contest
Sponsor Edward Ibez
Date 08/July/2020
Cleopetra used poisonous berries or the deadly nightshade juice( medicinal name Atropa belladonna) that yields Atropine which causes dilatation of the pupils. Was used in her time to make the eyes dreamy, innocent and beautiful! Hence the name “Bella = lady, Donna= beautiful)
Categories:
clang, addiction, analogy, death, love,
Form:
Sapphic stanza
Feelings of mine
Similar as a chiming of church bells.
My feeling of love is like bells,
Echoing loudly.
Sorrow as beautiful
A blue as bluebells.
Gradual as time
Flows onwards, profound.
Feelings I hold.
Love found as gold as a bell.
My feeling of love is like bells,
Fading away sound.
Liberation as open
As bell bottom jeans.
Silent and as still
As calming golden bells.
Feelings of mine
Clang, sang, faded all away.
My feeling of love is like bells,
Ringing, eventually toning down.
Said farewells
Unto thee as I become free.
Expression as fading out
As the veil of these bells' spells.
Feelings I hold
Have hope until something unfolds.
My feeling of love is like bells,
Peacefully waiting for some day.
Emotion as gray
As clouds, carry away.
Love as bright
As day, will one day show me true light.
Feelings of mine
Like where the bells chime.
My feeling of love is like bells,
Patiently remains, in steady faith…
Categories:
clang, love, romance, romantic, romantic
Form:
Free verse
A Cold December Night so Long Ago
‘twas on a cold December night
so long ago, a star shown bright,
and in the heavens, anthems rang
“Praise to the Lord,” the angels sang.
There in a manger on the hay
a new born child so softly lay
as shepherds watched and town bells clang;
“Praise to the Lord,” the angels sang.
A gift of God this gentle child
of humble birth so meek and mild
to save mankind, our sins defang;
“Praise to the Lord,” the angels sang.
In rev’rence now we laud this birth
when Son of Man was sent to earth
to free the world from dreadful pang;
“Praise to the Lord,” the angels sang.
Our souls washed clean, our conscience clear,
and so we celebrate each year
that winter night when anthems rang
“Praise to the Lord,” the angels sang.
November 28, 2019
Contest: In Praise of God
Sponsor: Kim Rodrigues
Categories:
clang, birth, christmas, jesus, religious,
Form:
Kyrielle
If I only had one wish be granted me tonight,
To be forty-five, again,would be a blessed delight.
To be able to walk in high heeled shoes,
Not in Skechers, no, they give me the blues.
Nikes and running shoes were indeed my fate.
Dawn runs, next to the esteemed Golden Gate.
Dancing till dawn at Club Montmartre,
My life akin, to an expensive piece of art.
The clang of the cable cars rings in my ears.
Memories of those days, fill me with tears.
I can actually breathe life back into my regal past.
Ride a ferry boat, hoist high my heart’s mast!
Have you ever seen a metropolis glow at night?
Walking with your love in a hazed, foggy night?
That treasured city cast her spell on the poetess, that was to be.
San Francisco, I, no doubt will pen about you and love you, eternally!
3/8/2023
Categories:
clang, happiness, imagery, memory, romance,
Form:
Couplet
BELLS
I.
Bells has a tingling ring to it,
a jingledy-jangle silver tone.
The tympanic waltz, close knit —
angelic chorus of Christ’s throne.
And Winter parades its magic —
the pure white snow purling gold.
Morgans’ shiver and shake chromatic.
Enchantment’s carol — behold!
O Christmas day — the pearly gates
stretched wide open in senssuround,
handbells harmonious, worldwide translate
singing, sweeping, melody crowned.
~
II.
*Poesome bells! They’re morose.
Tentacles dingle-dangle forth.
Curious onlooker of its strokes,
midnight binds its ears, looks North.
The lonesome brass calls for lad
and lass with clean cuts and braids.
The aww-no sound is clad
in a nonsenseless grade.
*Edgar Allen dawdles with death clang,
its clanger brain, hellish.
The beauty, from tower hangs —
the dauber of knells doth relish.
12/20/2020
*Some thoughts from Poe’s poem “The Bells”
Categories:
clang, beautiful, christmas, dark, sound,
Form:
Rhyme
hear the groan of an old man getting up from his chair
hear the rumble of a hungry tummy
hear the clink sound of a glass toast
hear the click sound of the light being turned on and off
hear the honk of the car trying to get through the crowd
hear the waaaaaahhhhhhh of the police car
hear the clang, clang, chugga-chugga, choo chooooooo
of the train comes down the track
hear the tweet, twitter, cheep, chirp of the birds in the trees
hear the peep, cluck, cock-a-doodle-doo, gooble-gobble,
quack, oink, neigh, hee-haw, baa, meow, moo, woof,
of the farm animals-conversation
hear the babble of the river
hear the contagious happy sounds of laughter
tearful moments of happiness and loss
life rhythm that speaks volumes
6/6/2021
just mussing
Rama Balasubramanian ask to add the chirping of birds
Categories:
clang, sound,
Form:
Free verse
Sometimes late at night when the memory feels just right
I slip away to the window where the moon in her afterglow
patches the holes of my heart and shoals me to the light
While other dreamers still in slumber taut as their femur
lose themselves in restless sleep beneath the self
matches of light ignite my soul and raise me to the night
Like a belladonna with her purple berried hue and force
I wander from the noise and clang of earth's pro-choice
and enter into sanctum like a luminous bulb of white
Sometimes late at night when the memory wants her say
I slip away to the window to watch the star's resonant hoist
blanched by the effervescence of dawn they all but go away
Because they know that sometimes late at night I want to stay,
over by the window where I can sit, until the break of day.
Categories:
clang, night, travel,
Form:
Free verse