Best Clumped Poems
Living amid the blurred lines of my reflections
Stark cold fears snow me blanket my resolve
Nestled my leafless core begging for rebirth
Patches of life clumped to the reality of what is what was
Soul penetrating every doubt of self worth
Raw exposure of glory days forgone
Dreams engulf the rapture of greener pastures
Revealed in roots embedded firmly in my foundation
Seeds flourish branches extend and trunks stand firm
Categories:
clumped, absence, hope, jobs, life,
Form:
Free verse
Holding onto a rail.
I lean over to see my reflection
mirrored in the water
and small fish swimming
in the camouflage of me.
I muse whether they are feeding
on my thoughts, nibbling
on the strands that loosely
float my day, making
their easy way towards
a dark clumped deep
in my shadow.
I can almost feel
their small fins brush the inside
of my skull, following
the course of a fear,
threading passage
through a weedy tangle
of doubt.
Then, swimming deeper,
their excitement seems
to grow in what they find,
feeding on something
that is hidden from me,
beyond the reflection
of my own mind.
Categories:
clumped, fish, mirror, self, water,
Form:
Free verse
Peg-Leg Pete the Pirate was a very evil man,
He used to eat his dinner from a filthy frying pan,
And when he’s finished eating he’d play “catch me if you can”
With his desperado first-mate known as Dirty Deadeye Dan.
Now Dan was quite a ladies man, but also fond of booze,
In bars and streets and hotels he liked to drink and cruise,
He used to taunt old-Peg Leg Pete by dragging up old news,
Like Pete had only ever needed half a pair of shoes.
One day Pete had quite enough and things got pretty scary,
Confronting Dirty Deadeye Dan whose mood was always lairy,
A sudden hush fell on the room when Pete clumped in the bar
And Dan called out: “Hey, Peg-Leg, hop on over, have a jar.”
Peg-Leg Pete the Pirate clasped the pistol on his hip
And snarled at Dirty Deadeye Dan: “Enough of your damn lip.”
The floozy sat upon Dan’s lap was dumped onto the floor
And Dan rose to his feet and hissed: “You’d best limp out the door.”
Across the sawdust, blood-stained floor they faced each other down,
And you could hear a pin drop from the other side of town,
Eyes were locked and fingers twitched and seconds seemed like days
The tension burned unbearably and shimmered in the haze.
Both men drew their pistols and both men fired fast,
Flame spat from the barrels with the bullets roaring past,
But neither man could aim for squat and when their guns were done
They’d killed two people in the bar but they weren’t either one.
The barman Blind-man Billy Bragg and the floozy Scar-Faced Sue
Lay dead as dead as doornails, as doornails tend to do,
And through the pall of gun-smoke and the mist of rum and beer
Deadeye Dan called out to Pete: “We’d best get out of here.”
And so they did, they fled the bar, and vanished in the night,
Back to their ship, The Crippled Cock, and sailed on out of sight,
Never to return to shore, and never seen again,
The rumour is they sank and drowned just off the Spanish Main.
The moral of the story is that when you draw a gun,
Be prepared to end your days always on the run,
“Or in your case, always on the limp,” said Dirty Deadeye Dan
To Peg-Leg Pete the Pirate, that very evil man.
Categories:
clumped, funny, evil, men,
Form:
Verse
Im half awake, and glaring at the sunrise
distant brilliance slowly eating at my dry eyes
squinted to best witness the aureate Apollo
refract off blades soaked through with dew
heaven's first blush, midsummer quiet, and coffee scent
cast clarity, light unveiling the burden
weighing down on every living being
clearest with the coming of the day
burning black holes into my brain's blank slate
sundering my soul 'till shatter state
fast approaches on the infinity of empty space
veiled out ahead of me
Restless with the lethargy of baring witness
I stir the pit, and catch flames leap up
from within carbon prints of gray matter
quelled embers lay suffocating beneath
ash dunes and smoldering phoenix feathers
matted and clumped by filmy deliquescence
spent of all but their will to rise again.
I grasp at the green broken glass
strewn about my feet like seeds
planted by last night's ignorance
and the sin of forced forgetting that
we all someday pay recompense
for our vice's and the gluttonous
way we all practice immoderation.
The world is quiet in lull
humanity lost to an illusion
breathing soft
and sleeping soundly
altogether
We exist
to want and rub against
the way the world turns on
a crooked axis, each moment less lucid
than those sunspots and dewdrops
coursing through dirt-clay veins and
branding the cracked dirt with morning
I cant shake loose the afterimage
imprinted on my blunted senses
experiencing everything I reach
is less than whole
understanding the universe
exists as fragments blackened in spite
of time's one plight forever pulling it apart
The sunset split the sky,
the fire danced and spit,
and the condensation clotted.
I seized eternity that morning
amidst the doldrums of sleeping masses
its truth intimate and calming.
I sense slumber cease and the suburbs rustle
the dreamers stumble about in waking
to shower away their sweat and dreamt delusion
start their cars, and drive away in sync
I listen closely to their heavy sighs
the shift of sagging shoulder plates,
bent under with Atlas tugging at the reins
kind's struggle never ceases to
echo off of terra firma, quaking
with each clanking of the chains
that bind our beating hearts to
alarm clocks, freeways, work weeks
and the torment of monotony
Categories:
clumped, passionworld, universe,
Form:
I was walking by the loud green bushes
Their rough knees covered with the ash of webs
The whisper through angry short snip-its
As the outer edges of my skin brush past
I can hear them say
She must talk to the dead trees!
She must and she will
Their bustle gets louder in my head
Now I am dizzy stepping on the rude rocks
They are harsh and stubborn
Blocking my path forward
Keep her from the dead trees!
No! let her go she's no good
Not here she must cross
Cross the land of living through
Right on through Dead
Your nothing but stone
Enough stone can stump your growth
Here is Anastacia
In between the argument of the Garden Maze
The Pebbles that skipped on song
Draws near to Anastacia
They all pile up on one another
To take her hand
While the rest of the Garden
Stood in a disarray
Anastacia couldn't believe
How fast Pebbles was carrying her
The Maze is now a lonely blur
So is the raucous of the chatter
So far gone, But where to
Is this the way to the Dead Trees
Yes! Pebbles replied gleefully
How could they have known
What her thoughts said
Magical they stood
Trillions of diamonds
All clumped heavily together
So much it was dangerous
Of what rarity and precious
The black blue swirl grew
The sounds changed
The sound of the swirl was silenced
Closer to the Dead......
Categories:
clumped, adventure, character, gothic, imagination,
Form:
Personification
At a distance, snow
clumped beneath a pine tree
plastic Walmart bag
1/31/13
Categories:
clumped, nature, snow, winter,
Form:
Haiku
SO MUCH DEPENDS...(Inspired by The Fault in Our Stars)
So much depends upon the girl with red current meandering from her woman
And the clots of clumped up thoughts that occasionally disturb her flow.
So much depends on the wisdom from her oval shaped head
And the greyish-pink lips
How from her round belly an eruption of ‘woke’ perspectives
Has to leave others with a need to be introspective
“So much depends on this observer of the universe”
Her views hanging from the sides like ovaries
To provide boundaries
So she can never be too sinful, too deceitful, too proud
Too round, dark , round
Sinful;
Deceitful;
Unkind
So much depends on the girl in the African print caftan and a bandana on her short processed hair
Fearful of oblivion
Trembling before disappointment
Stake in back while she too wields one against another
Never too good, never too honest
Her only decency in her merciful lies
Her only fault is being faulted
And that is before she takes a good look in the mirror
So much depends on the girl with short manicured nails with transparent nail polish,
Pecking away at the keyboard while hoping tears will flow
Because all that’s at play within her is too inward
Relentlessly refusing to flow out
So much depends on her sockets to let out tears, the kind that fall naturally and heavily
So much depends on her other half
To explain the sudden outburst of betrayal, what is allegiance?
But she knows not to poke those demons
For they may wake up with renewed zeal
Close a chapter while your hands still work
Goodbye to that song that was the anthem in your special little earth,
Heaven is your only haven
Heaven is your only haven
If only you show your worth.
“So much depends on this observer of the universe.”
Written on 25/12/15 after a very long, beautiful and blessful (poetic licence anyone) day.
Categories:
clumped, how i feel, hurt,
Form:
Bio
once an old horse named chester
impressing his nag esther
clumped up a tall tree
until about three
then clumped back down to best her.
Categories:
clumped, break up, cool, cute
Form:
Limerick
My daddy was a farmer,
a good one who knew how to
manipulate the elements in order
to achieve agricultural success.
He was well aware that all
of the elements play their part
and are necessary for growth but
the most tangible one is the soil.
I have seen him take
a handful, smell it,
work it and then let it
run through his fingers back
to the good earth from which it came.
If it smelled sour, he would take loads of lime
and spread them over his vast fields.
If it clumped as he worked it, he knew
it was too wet and he must have patience.
Dry, lifeless soil alerted him
to add living organisms.
He would top dress the soil
with aged manure,
collected free of charge from
his livestock, cows,
sheep, horses, chickens.
Nothing went to waste on the farm.
Or he might know it was time to
rest a field for a season,
He would plant a cover crop
which would grow and
be plowed back into the soil
to give it new vigor.
He planted on faith that
the rains would come,
the sun would shine
and the winds would be still,
when the crop seeds were ripe.
Heavy winds could take his seeds before
he could safely harvest them.
Next year he would start again
and prepare his soil
so that all elements could work together to
insure success.
Won 3rd
Categories:
clumped, hope, science,
Form:
Narrative
'''''''''''''""""~~~"""""""""""""""
as daylight flows on floors of meadows’ weave
like tiny fingers silent in silk of sailing traces
this landscape travels on her fragile, hushed heave
and when full morn speaks in syllables of pink laces,
i climb her flights of smiles to touch those tender graces
just a glance of champagne cheeks through her secret seat
makes hours sink in seconds breathing psalms of time’s aces
then i’d go deep for a pageant of your tulips upon my feet
as i hide snuffed sighs claiming eyes that await my reply
of a love as pure dawn giving wings to flowers’ poised paces,
the treasures in my chest are not tiaras or diamonds sold high
this, my rimless devotion will plant years gold with praises
your comfort in blaze of thunder, i’ll gladly give raw braces
a lifetime of caress to guide our lanes pastoral and wild we’d greet,
savoring flute, butterflies and giggling shells on winds’ embraces
then i’d swoon for a pageant of your tulips upon my feet
have i grown weeds in yarns of time, answer not yet said?
a flick of hope blows on this my airborne soul for returned praises
oh, my waters entice me as potpourri of my lady’s rhymes are fed,
when she stalls, then crawls on wanderings of night’s mazes
her quiet flush textured with pleas of patience on moon’s faces,
this silence has many altars adorned by veils of her sun and sleet
still, i stay with serenades to dust her feathers too shy for chases
then i’d swoon for a pageant of your tulips upon my feet
the absence of her eloquence jail me in chapels’ clumped vases
till she, lady of my velvet dreams, lit my passion’s fond heat
our hands shall wander unto rhapsody of faraway places
then i’d swoon for a pageant of your tulips upon my feet!
""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
Categories:
clumped, devotion, hopeme,
Form:
Ballade
My vacuum cleaner’s broken,
sits in the garage gathering dust
Beside dad’s old green car,
oxidising an orangey rust
I tried washing it last week,
and the water turned to wine
Well the colour miraculously looks,
venetian turpentine
World weary in a dusty brain,
contemplating null dividends
Doubtful the universe grew from zero,
to mere accidental existence
I’m never sure of anything,
other than opening up my eyes
When intelligence outsmarts evolution,
worlds of meaninglessness arrives
Nothing ventured everything gained,
the cosmos just gave and came
Dust clumped together,
galaxies burst forth into flame
No blueprint just chaos,
serendipity’s our only friend
Instructions out the window,
laws of physics can’t comprehend
Anyway God created us,
a few millennia after we made him
Mankind needed order,
to rid an infernal world of sin
I mean who’d hold faith in dust,
when all is said and done
Well some of us actually do,
on the mantlepiece in an urn
Yeah I’m full of bull, this
agnostic needs little imagination
I’m wasting space on the fence,
making these observations
I watch dust versus crosses,
and a universe going bust
Neurons keep me company,
as my brain churns out mush
Sponsored by: Charles Messina
King-Size Bull Crap Poetry Contest
01/12/22 rhyme form
Categories:
clumped, allegory, life, me, universe,
Form:
Rhyme
Fashion shoe treads imprinted on the bisque beach
global longtitude/latitude design airborne print in flight
Honeycomb print slowly pacing synchronising footsteps
Concentric wave prints grouping Fine detail pattern soul
beside clearly printed diamond fishbone sports design
Heavily studded trail souls tread along large paw prints
Simply dotted aerobic shoeprint next to little dog paws
A new soft pink fluffy seaweed floats in lacy ocean foam
Large horseshoe prints clomp digging deeply in the sand
Smaller horseshoes gather meeting near a water trough
Fresh green seagrass clumped like freshly cut long lawn
cradles long ball strands of yellow ochre squirting beads
Bare feet touching soft sticky sand immersed wet in water
Naked footprints side by side breathing beach vibrations
Two lovehearts drawn in the light brown sand interlocked.
Sandcastles decorated with shells sit sturdily on the shore.
Categories:
clumped, adventure, animals, life, nature,
Form:
Alliteration
I journey across time to get what is rightfully mine;
I journey across time to view the galaxies from the hill
and absorb the sweet scents from succulent grape blowing from a distance.
The stars are shining and the moon is standings still
And I have something wonderful to share with all of you over there
The tree is growing and its branches are spreading and I am still standing
strong because this is the best fruit they have on the land
Come with me to galaxy and let me show you what I see
Come with me to the galaxy and have dinner with me
Billions of stars decorated in the sky are holding the universe
Together with hands, foot, caps and limbs rubbing against the other
A myriad of stars are singing to a spectacular rhythm in the sky,
with thousands of galaxies moving in one direction, pulling the magnetic field along with an eye-catching imagery clumped together it’s mesmerizing and captivating
I see them flying in and out, not knowing what they are about
they are shooting rockets in the sky but they are not landing anywhere.
But the galaxy is still riding along singing a bountiful song.
I can hear them screaming above their head, I thought that somebody was dead, but it was a grand jubilee for those hiding in the tree.
They have just lifted the injunction that has grounded the plane in the skies; they have just lifted the injunction so that all can travel without fear.
They have lifted the injunction so that everyone can purchase the controversial goods that was left hanging in the atmosphere
Come and journey with me to the sky and watch the stars dancing.
Categories:
clumped, appreciation, education, encouraging, environment,
Form:
Alliteration
There was a dead little cat
Splayed in the middle lane of Washington Street
While I passed
And there was a man clumped to the curb
Pinching his chubby chin
Between his thumb and index finger
Like a final played poker chip
His eyes as flattened as aces on cards
In a corner bar across the street
While the police rubbed his shoulders and pencil notes
From the rotten sounds ground between his teeth.
Another man a driveway down
Has a nose displaced a million miles from his face
Smeared into his hanky.
Hoping no one notices
A woman wiggles in the wind out back
Like a Fentanyl clothesline clipped with a menu
Her age is a choice.
A third man on his back naps
In that front yard
Clutching his hands
To a samurai sword’s shiny blade
Slippery and stood straight up
From under and through him
Bubbling
Like a park fountain of roses.
Did it all start this morning
In their tiny crooked house?
Their cat scooting from underneath
A missed kick and through a crick
Of an unhinged front door
Out to the busy road?
If that for them
Was quite simply the last straw?
Categories:
clumped, addiction, betrayal, cat, city,
Form:
Free verse
You lay in the wooden cot,
a broken sparrow,
Crushed. Bony. Frail.
Hair once plumed gold,
greyed to clumped feathers
like ragged trampled wings,
strawed out on the dank pillow.
Face once blushed pink plump,
Jolly kind of soft with life,
Sucked to bone. Nose to Beak.
Echoes of the mask it will soon become.
I stroked this woman
now bent back to foetus pose.
Once sworled to shell,
wrapped inside myself,
Safe.
Now boned to carcass stick.
I wanted to hold one more time,
my child,
frightened the last air would puff to nought from its hollowed breast.
But my sparrow turned and smiled,
a grimace to crack open any gates of envisaged hell.
Macabre teeth, once glowing love and laughter to the skies,
Now pecked to ochre stalks.
The pitiful bird pained to move.
Mucous mouth clacked open wide
To receive some lasting morsel of life.
Only its beady blue gaze
flashed a soul of its former self,
eyes to haunt the sea.
I swallowed back my tide of tears,
waves of memory flooding sands of life we’d shared,
from fledgling dawn cry to this,
the final nesting box.
I wanted to stuff this cot with down
of a million eider.
To cosset and hold soft this scrawn, gnawed through.
Pluck teal, goose, swan.
‘Who would have thought it would come to this?’ it croaked a laugh.
I matched smile with smile.
I held the tiny claw.
Desperate not to cling too much to pain,
too much to past.
I wanted to wrap up this dying bird
Limp, in my hanky.
White folded white, fold on fold.
Run through the streets
shouting at the world, at some unseen power.
NO.
She’s mine. She’s safe. Take me.
What cruelty did I do?
What evil must be stuffed in this maternal breast
To hold this daughter dust in my arms?
Categories:
clumped, daughter, death, health, loss,
Form:
Elegy