Best Clatters Poems
Cars are the wind on the streets
semi-truck wheels shriek thunder,
rain shatters against stone and brick walls
on dusty roads, oak trees fence with twigs—
wushu wooden clatters.
Dreadful arrays of dryads
azure and amethyst gossamer haze,
sleek, silken strikes gist an opera of wisteria,
as they sway to silver breeze's sibilant rustles.
They chant lullabies in lyrical lilts of hued iridescence,
of hearth and opals back to my scarlet nest.
Angelus silver trills, the sylphic sways of pure rays,
Coral rosary—incense strands of aurulent rimes
hum, endless hymns echo as choral evensong
alleluias softly peal out—doves with wet eyes
that drift upward on whispery—ethereal wings.
Ocean's plea emerges from apothic abyss,
a voice conveys the core of faxed shores and stars,
with earth and wind in a solemn tone.
A cosmic biography—in loud squeals and sighs
sea vernacular hinges on nature's lasting awe.
Breath goes to fog—snow melts into puddles—rain returns,
a china-white grave—encases the deceased deer,
before thawing in the morning—icy skin lies frozen.
An eerie distance holds my hand in a purifying blizzard.
Categories:
clatters, analogy, appreciation, introspection, nature,
Form:
Free verse
REPLACEMENT
I champion a different philosophy of life
On a scale line of dramatic and emotional
Thought
Ranging from hate to love –
Weight dishes filled balanced evenly –
Replacement overpowers the right extreme
The love dish clatters noisily on the table
Hate is left hanging high and dry
Replaced by love
Whose presence is monumentally ponderous
The ideology remarkably simple –
Any thought residing in the suspended hate dish
Is blessedly replaced by love.
Dave Austin
Categories:
clatters, love,
Form:
Free verse
Mid-April evening, overlooking Clear Lake
at Chelsea’s Wine Bar, a party of one:
Sipping white zinfandel, I feel the chill
of my half-empty glass while fancy-free
flatware clatters impassive pageantry.
A moment. An hour. Another, until,
on the wooden veranda, I see you take
a familiar draw from your lipstick stained
cigarette. I thought you had quit awhile back.
I couldn’t - and step outside where the
unchanged breeze holds a subtle hint
of perfume. That hasn’t changed. I hesitate,
but then say “hello”. Turning away, you say
“it’s late”. I nod. Unnoticed by agreement.
5/1/2017
For Fancy Free Poetry Contest
Categories:
clatters, divorce, lost love,
Form:
Sonnet
Fancy that...
Being able to spend the whole morning
Writing a poem!
My mother's hands
Were etched in a network of tiny cracks.
Salt of the earth, the doctor said.
She thought it meant he loved her.
It doesn't matter whether
I write or not, I said...
Well, on one level it does,
Words whirling away into empty space.
A false Spring hangs in the air;
It's hard to keep from donning summer clothes.
He killed himself when he'd killed his wife.
(The tumor was malignant)
And the child sent away to some sister.
But his kind hands...My mother
Whispers again to believe it.
The typewriter clatters in a small room,
Closed door,
Soft light through the figured glass.
Categories:
clatters, hurt, mother, poetess, sad
Form:
Free verse
Tiny sigh
Drop of whiskey on her lips and
Gold glittering around her
Neck
Tipsily she smiles
And it’s a christmas card happiness
Not raw enough to be real
Take a step closer you’ll see
A world on fire
Reflected in her eyes
Her world and
This is how she watches it burn
There is an art to destruction,
Or rather,
Accepting it
The glass clatters from her hand but
Luckily it’s dollar store plastic
Luckily it’s empty
The stilettos turn in unison, in
Surprise
And she falls as
The bass drops
Out from under her.
Alone on the floor under a crowd
Tomorrow she’ll forget
By the time she’s home she’ll want to
Her damned destruction
Is an her art
And she’s a museum full of
Paintings on fire.
Categories:
clatters, drink, leaving,
Form:
Free verse
Dark clouds hovered around
And no one was assured
Of the next events
The striking lighting ensued
And thunder
Slapped two birds against each other
With frightening clatters
The stage was set
And the elements waited
Like soldiers on guard
Then the silvery ropes cascaded down
With heavy patters
That turned the deserts
Into smiling savanna.
Alayande Stephen T.
September 12th 2005
1.05pm
Categories:
clatters, faith, life, nature,
Form:
Free verse
With the help of the wind
The tree leaves produce their song
While the range vent clatters along
Cile Beer
August 19, 2010
Categories:
clatters, nature
Form:
Rhyme
The tumultuous whirlwinds had now ceased
The roaring, nettlesome sounds have dried away
The tide is now silent
The clatters and jangles,
now dead, they are.
Far and wide, the drumming sounds, ululations...
For the happiness, peace and calamity, found again
All is being born again.
The sky is blue
The dark-dark, huge, cumbersome and petrifying clouds
Have faded away
And now, white clouds are to be seen hither and thither
In the blue sky-scape, congregating
For the new rain of the new
the new downpour of joy and peace of nature.
With my hands,
I rubbed away the hot tears, at last
With a smile, i looked out
The thudding of my heart, had stopped, but gone
Relieved i felt, for the tempests, had flied away
I yawned, stretching my arms
Bad times, had reached their edges
At last.
The birds fluttered and warbled
Their sounds anew
Tickling my fancy
The swiping of the trees
buzzed with the cool breeze
and then, the sun showed up
with new lively alight, and
with the moon
they all smiled cutely.
All got in full swing
For the peace, and happiness had at last been restored
I danced along with the birds, soft wind and the trees
Dancing, to their tune
And with all the peace and happiness
Smiled back to the jolly sun and the moon.
Categories:
clatters, peace, peace, peace, sun,
Form:
Limerick
The Storm
Impatient winds shriek loud with tortured cries,
Storm driven rains splash into flooded pools,
Silver light streaks across darkened skies,
Storm blasted trees bend under the gale's rule.
Hail clatters on wind blown streets and paths and
Hammers against every door and window pain.
Life pauses. Angry souls rage across the land
As sunlight gives way to dark tempest's gain.
The earth trembles 'til the storm's wrath is done;
Calm silence spreads through wet, shimmering leaves,
Squalls overtaken by the returning sun.
Rain stops. Water drips slow from under eaves,
Thunder clouds part, a new light shining through
And life, refreshed, awakes and starts anew.
12/08/16
For Contest 'Wordscapes'
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Categories:
clatters, rain, storm, wind,
Form:
Sonnet
For Didds
Four tankards found at the foot of the hill
Bet someone got w*nkered, and now they feel ill
Bet it went down so easy that no one resisted
And now they’ve forgotten the tankards existed
But down at the pub there are rumours of scandals
Of boisterousness, and the theft of four candles
And a gap on the shelf where the tankards once sat
And out on the roof someone’s comedy hat
Maybe barred from the pub and a walk out of town?
With enough beer in tow to conceivably drown
As they woke up the town with their loud shouty glee
And blessed all the hedges with vomit and pee
“Here’s bashin’ yer metal” and “Cheers, me old china”
Drinking alfresco, well, what could be finer
Well, ale, I suppose, for it goes down a treat
Not that one cares when one’s drunk on the street
The next day the tankards just sat by the road
All hopeful and waiting, but nobody showed
Until round the corner a giant appeared
Wearing a rugby shirt, smile and beard
“I’ll tell you what, lads, all back to mine”
Four trusting tankards all followed in line
Expressing their heartfelt and infinite thanks
With tinkles, and clatters, and resonant clanks
There followed a search, and some transient glory
And some vain attempt to uncover their story
So brightly they shone in their moment of fame
Then they just disappeared, in the way that they came
‘Tis said, down in Rowde, that the veil is thin
That mischievous fairies throw stuff in the bin
That strange things do happen, when folk have been drinking
All myth mixed with moonshine and magical thinking
Whatever, wherever, they’re not coming back
So; whose were the tankards, and what was the crack?
by Gail
Categories:
clatters, drink, england, humor, lost,
Form:
Rhyme
Flickering ember
against the darkness
angry rain clatters
the glass window pane
wild flowers a sigh
safe from a vexed sky.
© Harry J Horsman 2021
Categories:
clatters, weather,
Form:
Verse
I wish I had died too
I wish I had died on a mystery plane from Malaysia
Carrying over 200 souls yet to live
Their last beautiful moments
I wish I had sat on my first class section
Sipping ice cold champagne
And the plane would suddenly shake
And spill the precious contents
And my near celebration
Would be violently shaken and this time
Throwing me off my seat
Making me groan…
I would lift my eyes to see other souls
Sprawling on the floor….
I would close my eyes to pray
And this time we would be spinning
In a deadly circle that clatters all souls and furniture
It’s chaos! What’s happening?
I am frightened and wondering…
The captain’s inaudible warnings don’t make sense
I suddenly get a cold dizzy feeling
That rocks me to the right, left, up and down
As the cold water suddenly soaks up
My white jeans and fills the floor
Like a shallow river
It’s the horrifying sound of a shot gun
That makes me scream wild with fear
At the deafening bullet because
Someone just did the act of suicide
And I am horrified in tears as
The broken windows reveal an ocean current
That churns like a thunderstorm
The roof of the plane pulls off our heads
I can now taste the salty water choking down
My throat and preparing me like a meal
For a shark to devour….
I already feel like a meal ready to be eaten
As the ocean dissolves all our bodies
The efforts to swim and beat the currents
Have taken on an eternity!
I have dissolved, I have dissolved
My heart cries out as i hear the cries of the souls
Drowning and myself dissolved
And drowned with them.
Categories:
clatters, allusion, celebrity, death, life,
Form:
Prose Poetry
I was awakened by the sounds of clatters and thumps
as a whoosh of breeze made my window blinds thud.
I rose with a groan and felt the rise of goose bumps
on my skin. Frigid morning air was chilling my blood.
Far in the distance was the boom of thunder's roar.
No cockle-doodle-do would I hear at break of dawn,
for the wise rooster knew rains would soon begin to pour.
There'd be no more sleep for me as I stifled a yawn.
I shuffled to the kitchen as the wind began to howl.
While coffee was brewing, my new pup started to bark.
I whispered, "Alright, boy. It's just the hoot of an owl."
Creaks and clangs always sound scarier when it's dark.
A tempest wind rattled my windows with a loud clatter.
The rumble of more thunder caused my heart to flutter.
Rain splashed against the panes with a resonant splatter,
and then I heard "WHAM BAM," and off flew my shutter.
I hushed my dog when he began to whimper and whine
and decided to build a fire, all the while humming a tune.
Finally, he relaxed when the rain stopped, just before nine.
We slept until noon, after enduring that dreadful monsoon.
July 18th, 2022
Onomatopoeia Contest
Sponsor: Emile Pinet
checked with rhymezone
Categories:
clatters, storm,
Form:
Rhyme
There are days when I wonder why it matters
To have existed at all in this time and space.
My presence here is like a sound that clatters
Then fades to silence leaving not a trace.
Was there some point to being cast in this coil?
Was there a measurable difference to make?
What is the significance of the sweat and toil?
Have I existed merely for existence’s sake?
I’m trying to make sense of my mortal bout.
When the blood is still and earth is my cradle
Will I ask—could I think—what was that about?
And why did I drink from that toxic ladle?
Faith endeavors to answer my queries,
Admonishing me to know of One on high.
But there are times when one wearies
Of believing what is real in an unknown sky.
Categories:
clatters, angst, life,
Form:
Rhyme
There is always a way, the optimist says,
Yet the creak of life’s tensions groan low,
They shadow the quake that the floor he walks makes,
And the air as it travels says so.
See the mist pale & thick,
It caresses each tip, every leaf, every needle and frond,
He smiles a wide smile at a metallic knell
Like sweet chiming bells,
Speaking scenes to his minds inner eye.
The paleness surrounds like great steam clouds,
Then a strong rasping sound cuts in with a short rhythmic note,
He sees a blue breaking through, the white tendrils grow few,
he gazes on grey shining ribbons of track
With a curve running clean through fields of sage green.
Wheat silos by pale gold hay stacks.
Then with curses and clumps the foreman climbs up and
Hauls another rasping board to his stage,
“Hey grab hold of this mate! You’re making us late”,
As a bucket of clamps clatters down!
So with a spanner in hand he re-joins the gang,
And puts his hand to a galvanised pole,
It’s cold and damp to his grip, and he feels his heart dip,
As he thinks on the way life now goes,
Lost in terraces grey while for hours he slaves,
So far from his Wichita home,
With his quiet English wife and two children besides,
And too soon, into a day nursery they'll go.
But dear God in heaven the sign said 7 to 7,
Is that the start to a balanced home life?
© Joe Maverick 2010
Categories:
clatters, family,
Form:
Narrative