Best Cloud Cover Poems
Engelbert Effleflump put on his disguise
Climbed in his orcetector and rose in the skies
For his mum hated flying and must never know
That Engelbert’s job was in an aerial show
Poor Engelbert hated deceiving his mother
He’d go out of the house under cloud cover
He’d loop the loop in pink polka dot skies
Twirling in his orcetector each time he flies
Over mountains of candy and lollipop trees
Floating on green clouds and lemonade seas
Only children knew his secret, they’d point with delight
Look there goes Engelbert - he’ll be home by midnight!
But disaster happened on one foggy day
Poor Engelbert crashed at a flying display
He was not badly injured - only his pride
But how could he tell his mother he’d lied
Unable to continue flying he told his mum of his work
When she discovered his secret life, she went BERSERK
She shook her gold furry arms high in the air
Now confined to his room Engelbert did despair
Engelbert begged and he pleaded, but she wouldn’t listen
Tears formed in his orange eyes, oh how they did glisten
That night he decided that he must simply be free
Couldn’t live with his mother – how they did disagree
Next morning he munched on his wigglerly grub
Drank his foaming juice from the chocberry shrub
He announced to his mother that he had a plan
We would get a new job, become a delivery man
Engelbert moved into a chocolate house
He lives there with his purple pet mouse
His new job lets him work at his own pace
Delivering dreams to Effleflumps in outer space
* an orcetector is a word that was made up by the little girl I used to be a private nanny to - she was just 2 years old and she couldn't say helicopter.
Contest:- Children’s story Dr Seuss Style
Sponsor:- Casarah Nance
~awarded 4th place~
08~21~15
imagery, nature, sun, water, wind, word play
The mountains speak out
From under clouds soaring high
Light strikes down below!
Mountain ridges stick out
Crags and crevices shadow deep
Cloud cover adds frost!
Billowing white clouds
Rearrange themselves in groupings
Formatting anew!
The sun’s reflection
Sparkling the rolling wave tips
Sent by the strong breezes!
My confusion comes from too much doing. During the news
eating cheese and crackers, drinking wine, thinking the world
needs me.
Or the falling leaves, the days shorter but so much brighter.
How the cloud cover of the canopy has lifted to reveal
maybe God.
The longest continuous democracy may end in another theocracy.
A bunch of voodooists with their hocus pocus blessings
and understandings.
Bombs and poison. Grief. Chiseled, tearless face.
Chants gregorian. Her sad, clear, soulful missives from
the city.
Unbelievable acorn crop this year! Skate on them
like marbles. Last year was a maple year. The ash crop
significant, too.
But not the cherries. Or a single pear. Blackberries
held back too. Sure the towers were a violation, but they came to
hold community.
One stands not apart or alone but an individual within
his or her platoon. Committed to the mission and survival of
the platoon.
Fedex leaves a package. There is or is no anthrax
in it. It is our disappointment as Americans that the world cannot
be trusted.
Yes, New York is the enemy and brother of Kabul. How
does one reconcile those differing communities and be a non-
violent human?
With words. Wendell Berry's words. And service such as
the secretaries of state give, leaving when one's time and work
is done.
Staying in the diatonic. Agreeing first on rules of engagement.
Then engaging. Not stopping the fight or thought or song until the fight
is done.
As light plays upon the dark, that moon through stained glass windows
cutting a swarth across cobbled floors.
It seeps into the cracks like it's found home at last
How a distant piano to a curious ear attracts
a de'javu moment and yet it is unwritten.
You follow the fleeting seeking some origin
reaching out for inspiration as if it were original sin
All recitations from what remains unwritten
Those words hidden under the tongue just below the surface of a heart.
Contour of an image meant to be lived, yet remains unchanged, namelessly forgotten.
Its a melancholy of indecision climbing the walls of narrow passages like wisteria
you adhere to the impulse to cover all that once lay bare.
I drag tired fingers around the next bend, the next barrier
is more impressive than the last.
There’s an attempt to grasp something in the lapse between thoughts
to trade abstract beliefs for the tangible, it is enough to inspire devotion.
a shadow climbs the wall only to stall in its climax
abiding but a remnant of the unwritten.
Something is always left in these corners where candles aid their illumination
and thoughts drift elsewhere in the dancing theatre of undefined movements.
The unknowing becomes vagabond to the warmest of comforts.
You find yourself in these blankets of cloud cover observing holes in the disguise.
The veil suddenly lifted, experience immediate, no longer a stranger
so you can gaze upon these mirrors and hasten that journey toward home
Home, your feeling is kept fleeting, A temporal haven so you can continue repeating
these steps that lead you towards the perfect escape.
Always almost there... In this world of smoke and mirrors
Trapped in illusion that holds time obscurely
"The Unwritten"
So we bend beneath the wing of watching eyes.
Trenched in the words of silver tongues, frozen by the voice of awkward edges
For if the unwritten were to be before its time, If it were to flee,
to break free and roam; Become the breeze through these hallowed halls
of desperate belief.
To write the unwritten...
Then though they'd cry and shout and leap, No wall could stretch from sea to sky
Nor any kingdom stop it.
It is etched on the soul more deeply than stone
And we have given it a name...
Our Destiny
4 - Sunset Haiku -
water is golden
swirling currents of bright light
the sun heads to dip
red, pink and orange
take over horizon skies
colorful day’s end
lavender and blue
blend above the dark mountains
pallet of night fall
there is a fireball
bursting through the cloud cover
sun’s grand finale
Heidi Sands
5/21/21
Cloud cover has slowly parted
billowing wisp's,has all but scattered
airy freshness scented clean
dome filled wonder,fit to breathe
Bathed by rain this day we gain
a moment clear,we must refrain
releasing toxin's,our precious oxygen
source of force,our pulsing engine
Change evolve's resume adaptation
this our cause to effect future generation
it may not be clear for all to see
stewards of the earth we must try to be...
Wrenching pain, hot pavement, warm tears flowing
---- Steaming ----
Not from being unloved or desires not being met
Just very simple little wooden doors slammed shut
--- Locking the heart ---
Truth not given, oh no, that just flies away so easily
Fast as a car racing on a track in a speeding minute
Vultures swirl, but wait until the last second to leave
--- Their feast ---
They think they know it all, just how fast you're driving
In the approach of only a simple sight you wanted to see
--- But they are wrong ---
Assumptions by others whirl in the silence unspoken
Their choice to protect what they think is helpful in a way
--- Wrong again ---
All it takes is a little effort, the simple choice to speak, to ask,
To communicate under the skies, even with the cloud cover
Heidi Sands
7/19/17
Time and its observance,
doesn’t seem to matter anymore
in other than its passing.
The days come and go
sometimes quick, sometimes slow
passing with little effort other than the change in weather.
Warm, soft, spring mornings give easy passage
to gentle, calm, hot summers
now open to an exceptional but early autumn.
Time full of cool winds and brisk, sudden chills
sudden downpours and vibrant changing colors.
Gray skies of constant flowing white and dark clouds
open to scary, ominous dark cloud cover
cutting off the patch of brilliant blues.
The eye of God watches
in between the breezes and gusts,
comes a long, silent lull
where God is listening
to his creation praying,
waiting here, below.
In my own stillness
I perceive that I go unnoticed.
This body occupying space and time
lingering in the shadows of nameless faces that pass
hurriedly on their way elsewhere.
I am content with that,
satisfied that I do not draw any attention
or cause distraction.
The quiet surrounding me hovers in place, strains my ears
but keeps me listening in wait
for the very voice of God.
I utter prayers and supplications
that I am quiet enough to hear.
If it comes on the wind
here I wait,
fighting against the threatening storm
holding steady to hear the message
to know where and when to return
to the great unknown.
Cloud-Cover… On A Sunny Day
Got Me On This Hill… Looking-Up and Dreaming
Cloud-Cover… I Just Want To Lay
And Watch The Sunrays Gently Beaming…
… thru The Cloud-Cover… Cloud Cover
Cloud-Cover… Like A Gentle Lover
A Sweetheart, That’s Somewhere Far Away
Who, Sends A Message… To This Hillside Clover…
… and Me… Wishing Both, Could Stay…
… just Like Cloud-Cover… Cloud Cover
Oh, Let Our Lives, Be Like Close-Cloud-Cover
Gently Rolling By, Slowly, On The Breeze
Rise Up With Love, For One Another
And Ride The Wind.. ‘til We Are Free…
… Discover, Cloud-Cover… Cloud Cover
Cloud-Cover… Was A Sunny Day
… but I Hear Distant Thunder… On A Hill…
Cloud-Cover… I Have To Pray…
I’m Running Thru The Rain… ‘Cause I Feel A Chill…
… Don’t Let It Be My Cloud-Cover!... Not My Cloud-Cover!
…Nor My Son, Daughter, Mother, Father… Or My Brother…
Cloud Cover… Please… Cloud Cover…
In Memory of Those Taken From Us...
The best part of the night
is the dim healing light
of sweet sister moon.
The best part of the days,
though lost in the Great Wide Blue,
is the dilute resolute sunrays
bouncing their lonely ways
from white through black to greys;
from greys through black
to blue and on and on to me to you
The moon, at best, is wondered at,
is welcomed, is oooooed at
for a stolen moment here
a full moon minute there.
A poem lasts forever but fails to
hold the moon in mind for long.
For me, when moon is lost -
Cloud cover.
Unseen in whitewash days.
Behind the silhouette trees.
When new.
There is you.
There is you...
Breathing starry clouds
Sleepy mountains sing to me
old as time and love.
Overcast the day
painted slate blue and gray
taps on the roof gently fall
as the ground slicks rains pall.
Cool the February calm
with icy rain the seasons balm
stealth and slow the cloud cover
waiting patient hold at hover.
Wintry mix of rain, ice and snow
sweeps light across the misty flow
easing in throughout the morning
marking time in solemn warning.
Start to a new week
Monday morning creeks
winter's promise foretold
a stormy day to unfold.
The carnage was brutal; I’ll tell you no lies.
The carcasses lay all over the ground.
The devil incarnate, thinly disguised.
Exposed in the open, relief not around.
Relentless, unceasing, no mercy was shown;
They pressed for advantage where one could be found.
They flew kamikaze, not acting alone,
With emerald green eyes, golden evil rained down.
Damned near omniscient, they nimbly dodge foes,
Escaping when odds seemed impossibly thin.
Pummeled their target, a thousand small blows,
Snatching by drops, the sweet treasure therein.
A chink in the armor, defenses were planned;
The enemy’s weakness: a repeatable tell.
For the briefest of time before the bite lands,
All senses are swamped, overcome by just smell.
The message was relayed out to the front lines:
Wait to the last moment, for that is your chance.
Before they attack, just watch for the signs:
Their eyes will go dim, they’ll go into a trance.
Reports were encouraging - those that came back.
Momentum was shifting, but surely not won.
For some waited late and mistimed the attack:
The enemy killed, but more damage was done.
Cloud cover rolled, and the skies turned to gray.
It may have been lighting, but no one could say.
Perhaps they had suffered enough in the fray,
Though the deer flies withdrew, they’d be back the next day…
----------
for the 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 1 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Mark Toney
written on 06/14/2022
She wanted to go back
to the place that expelled her-
Octopode ink on a birth certificate.
Black smoke, not blue,
Dark smatter hid from view
Pale pink sunrise
Baby blue skies...
It rained the day she cried,
newborn, still womb warm.
Instinct to live no option.
No yes and no gut feeling reply.
She needs to go back
to the genesis of needs and wants,
the whole body experience
takes up space in the air
we breathe without a care.
Approval sidelined in attachment style
ghosts the childlike grab and clutch.
Love not cut from cuddle cloth.
As years sidled by, she realized
this was all it was afterall-
her life wrapped up in swaddle
soft as spider's silk.
Organic web of sticky lies
held tricky truths stuck
firmly in disguise.
It's become time to cut the chords that bind.
Engine heart thuds in the hull,
Picks up pace, sounds push survival surge,
Mindful design is on the move.
Doused in drowze, piled up permafrost
covers, smothers, preserves, impacts
a heart petrified by spider's bite.
There is no future being hidden
from her own blinded sight.
It still rains on and off-
cloud cover in between climactic chaos
and sometimes normal weather.
Patterns of desperate needs uncover
pros and cons divide each other.
The emptied womb is no longer
a warm and welcoming vessel.
Gone forever, what's over are leftovers
not fit to feed future expansion.
She commands her craft to unberth-
Driving force a desire to disconnect
from dissonance docked in moving goalposts.
Truth breaks the trauma bond, false hopes.
There's no future in future faking.
The present is full of deliberation.
It's truly now,
or truly never.
The past is not on her horizon forever.
Posted December 31, 2023.
XIAO LING
I wish I knew you well ?, I wish I knew what is in your heart ?
I stepped out of my bleak, four cornered room on Sunday.
I stepped out from my sterile four walled prison to day,
walked with the sun on my face, warming the hours,
as I walked with the Ghost of you in my arm,
you, leaning into me like you used to do.
Visions of your beauty, your lovely face
graced the blue skies before me,
taking me to heavenly places
I once knew,
with you.
I saw the essence in you, dancing upon the face of
Mother Nature, Mother Earth with such joy
as your Ghost and I walked hand in hand
along the dikes (both sides) of the River
Pitt with thoughts of you and I and all
we once shared, carrying me through
the pain, the tears I shed like falling
rain drenching the earth beneath my feet.
Soggy, thoughts that we might meet once again
this time, you could feel for me, as I feel for you.
I watched the sun gaze passed the cloud cover,
wash away the ugliness, expose the whiteness,
turn the grey snow, caped mountain tops
into a clean blanket, gleaming white
and I began to wonder ?, if I will
know, no more grey skies.
Will white snow fill my eyes ?,
as I walk with the Beautiful Ghost of you,
in my arm, leaning against me like you used to do .
B. J. "A" 2
March 24th 2011
You know Xiao Ling, there is so much I would have loved to have done with and for you. I guess?, now that you have others to do for you, I will never again, know the pleasures of giving to you all that I was capable of, all that you would allow me. It saddens me Xiao Ling, to think that I will never again get to do even the little things for you .
Gone are the the oppertunities !,?, like the sun, behind the storm clouds ( your anger, your disappointments ) that have been hovering above my head like bombers waiting to drop their load on me, to watch them explode on me .
I am so very SORRY Xiao LIng, for every mistake, for every discouraging, disparaging remark / word that came from out of my mouth, for every act ( kissing, hugging, caressing, touching, etc., etc. )that upset you so .
I hope that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me .
You have a great life !
LOVE
BILL .