Best Cluttering Poems


Premium Member Lilac Feathered Goodbye

I hope you would still remember me as we were,

every time you see pristine 

passing pomegranate hues of the horizon.

When clouds smear our unspoken love 

in inexplicable figurines,

of those simple moments we 

reignited beneath our own twilight, 

reliving our dreams in 

remaining rosy dialects of romantic recollections,

as I have a confession to make

beneath this cluttering of chaos.

I wasn’t ready to let you nor our late night conversations go, 

After all these years, all my heart ever desires, 

is for you to see the broken empire 

behind these weary eyes.

I have long been a gift of solitude and sorrow,

But as I’ve let you go, my hopes swayed a lilac 

feathered goodbye,

Although you’ll never know how a simple hey, 

once upon a time, saved my life,

and embellished my universe with pearlescent 

moonstones and amethysts.

Yet I still question you, in rustic rhymes you can’t comprehend,

Have you forgotten how to pronounce my name?

is it because your heart doesn’t feel the same?

Have your desires now become tame?

As you walk away, why am I the one to take the blame?

Is our love now lost in history?

Is that why you’ve left me in so much mystery?

In your absence the mind battles against violence.

All is mute in a void of meaningless silence.

Did you forget to love me today?

Is this the price I have to pay?

Just for you to say that you’ll love me 

again in the same way, someday.

Higgledy-Piggledy Pickle

I've a bit of a problem here...
in a higgledy-piggledy pickle
torn between housewifery
and creative muses fickle.

Scattered, shattered fragments
of odd ideas, dreams
lay about my den, disguised
not nearly what they seem!

Bits of whimsy, what-nots
all cluttering my desk
covered in thick pixie dust
my housekeeping grotesque.

Higgledy-piggledy hodgepodge
my convoluted mess
a sign of utter genius
(or else mental distress).

I'd planned to tidy up...
to toss a few things out
but as I gaze upon them
they sniffle, weep and pout.

To think that I'd discard them!
Those former hopes and whims
unborn poems, paintings
their destiny quite grim.

Delicately backing out-
I apologize with care
as they cold-shoulder, look away
with such dramatic flair!

And when my husband asks me
just what I've done all day
I simply shrug “not much”
not knowing what to say.

How could I ever mention
the lurking living things
inside my head, upon my desk
that gently pull my strings?

The odd creative forces
that captivate me thus
wildly penning amid my piles
while he remains nonplussed!

Premium Member For Too Long I Have Remembered You

There once was a time for us,
there once was a time.
A lone silhouette stays in the heart,
where love was, forever gone.
A tear lost in a falling stream of emptiness,
stained the face of loneliness,when love died.

For too long I have remembered you,
a memory that comes each day,
pouring over me, a waterfall,
washing away all reflections of what was,
cluttering thoughts of distant days,
that may or not have been real.
Like flocks of birds,
filtering through the sky of my mind,
diving in unison only to disperse,
among the fallen leaves that lay scattered,
where a heart once was.

Torn in half it lingers,
as dead petals do on the stem of a rose,
falling into an empty garden,
once filled with blooms,
chilled now by the wind of love's demise.

A heart alone with vanishing footsteps,
trailing away to a dull grey horizon.
Where the sun never rises, 
and the round sky rolls away,
leaving nothing... an empty space,
where beauty was,
before a heart was torn in half,
and found to wilt away on the conquered ground,
like a vanquished foe left bleeding on the steps,
that lead up to the throne of love,
where a heart once sat.



1/1/15


Premium Member My Purpose

My purpose in life... to live it
and breathe each breath as my last
to hold no argument for the sake of holding
give understanding to those who need it
to be open to all thoughts...no matter how different

to keep as much beauty in the world as I can
to explore all realms of possibilities
and see the souls of others as they are
to not be blinded by the colored coat of deception

to be a truth-teller in a world of liars
who have no sense of honor or character of the spirit
and dwell in the garbage flowing down rivers of fear
spending years collecting from life...not experiencing life
to know the difference between the two

     Yes...I have one purpose...
to live life without hesitation or fear
to procreate and pass purpose along
so nothing is missed in each singular journey
where the blood of my blood understands
life is to be lived...not bartered
to find purpose is a cause, unto itself
and cannot be asleep...
to think dreams and wishes are enough
to know that purpose is a strange thing
that evolves or dies as the world changes

      would that I find a purpose
from the bravery of the oppressed...who never cry
      would that I find a purpose
beyond my ability to correct injustice
would that I live...for I have only one life
to live without chosen conflicts of men
cluttering my thoughts for no purpose
other than self-gratification
then claim my intentions were noble

      what is my purpose...you ask
                   to be...
nothing more or less than the perception of my days
as my eyes see them
to rest with the weary in deep realms of shade
and shine a light on the darkness of the lost
sharing with them the knowledge obtained
from a life lived
my purpose is to say with my last breath
I lived life... embraced its struggles
      and have done so without lament

6/4/18 contest My purpose in life

The Master Carpenter

I have spent much of my entire life it seems somehow

Cluttering shadows walls with window box residue inside these rooms....

Considering now the hands of times potter and I, but its clay ~

While gently closing these doors, lowering the windows and, drawing the shades

Another moment amid a lifes journey; traveling far beyond chances place

Once more; consolations road winding unto the summit of hopes extended range....

This sphere above serendipities perceptions; reflections penetrating bright ~

Reasons subduing dust, to be placed in a canister of understandings

Soils of purpose and promise gathered within, stain covered palms?!

A tilling and mixture it shall be unto these, renovations dreams....

Such, jewels of visions sprinkled upon the petals and

Brushed about the partitions dividing calls; gentle pastels ~

Clarities lines, passing through this corridore inside

Cluttering walls of a shadows reprise....

Reminding myself yet again as I close the doors and, lower the blinds

My eyes; gliding atop the balustrade unto the newly carpeted landing

Slowly amid silent serenity gazing humbly across, times restoring treasures ~

Once condemned but never lost within; revelations resurrecting hands of

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Master Carpenter

The Master Carpenter

Having spent much of my entire life it seems somehow cluttering a shadows 
Walls with window box residue: inside these rooms considering now the hands of 
time's 
Potter and I but this clay while closing gently these doors; lowering her windows 
drawing light's
Shades another moment amid a life's journey while traveling far beyond, chances 
place ?
Once more consolation's road winding unto it's summit in hope's, extended range; 
this sphere
Above serendipity's perceptions reflections penetrating, of beautiful bright, 
reasons....
Subduing dust to be placed in a canister be understanding's soils what purpose: 
promises
Gathering about, stain covered palms ? Tilling this mixture of me shall we see these, renovatives
Dreams such jewels their visions sprinkled atop petals as brushed aside, the 
partition's dividing calls
Meek pastel clarities gentle lines; passing through another corridor inside; cluttered 
walls a shadow's reprise
Reminding myself yet again as we close time's door lowering diablo's blinds ? These 
eyes gliding past
Her balustrade unto Beauty's newly carpeted landing renovation's you and me: 
silent serenity gazing humbly
Slowly aross a reasons treasures; thought condemned but never, within: Love's 
revelations His resurrecting, hands.


The Harmony of Nature

Drip, drip falls the rain
cluttering on the rock mountain
seeping through the plain
collecting in the fountain 

And the breeze is fine
whistling through the pine
wiping the pine leaves a shine
whipping branches into line

And long are the shadows
giving shade to the sparrows
stretching over shallow fallows
patterning mellowing hollows 

Does it really matter
Whether its weather
....or its finite climate
All is the beauty of God’s creation
The harmony of nature

Premium Member Scratch In the Summer Sky

Written on August 13, 2012

Cluttering the blue -
A thick white line of a cloud.
The jet races away.





Your Best Haiku contest
Fifth Place

After the Storm

After the storm

The havoc is over and the sun is back
Patching up with light the heart's crack

Devastating is the scene of the aftermath
But there is a flower in the cluttering path

Though the storm was fierce and utterly cruel
The vanishing Hope got up to refuel

Deafening silence is ruling the place
But rhythm is gaining its normal pace

After every storm you are given a choice
Whether to quit or start to rejoice

Cockroach

Across the white of table bread and yellow plated cheese
Upon the black fictitious grapes, it wheezes its disease
It crawls, its scrawny legs cluttering the revulsion's sight
Look at this nocturnal insect parading pride in pallid light

And so one, then suddenly a thousand more, and still more
From draw I thought secured, from every vessel held in store
The little beasts come dragging a gay appetite to the floor
And with so much resilience, so much flare, some would adore

But I, something in the hygiene of my upbringing, shudders me
With looming tragedy for this, a population depleted I see
By pest and pestilential tolerance, trembles me now with rage
That cockroach could destroy us, and rule the coming age.

Mutating from the fission and fusion that left us hopeless, bare
The fallout from divine grace, and this shimmering cold now here
What shall be our harvest, except the wintry white of fear
Nothing saps their resistance now, the cockroach is everywhere

Profile this, in every four thousand species plus, every size and shape
Four common species threatens our mortal dust, O wanton rape
Think you that their triumph shall not call from hell more tragic forms
To chew and shred and intoxicate the procreation of our norms

I hear the scratching of the spindly legs, see sick white chitinous wings
I am filled such foreboding of the plaques this evil brings
And we make boundaries with indifference, call them the species at risk
Forbid their public swatting, stomping, crushing them quick and brisk

O let me see the putrid gut inside, let me hear the crunch of flesh
Let me use the new insecticide to bomb them from behind the mesh
Splatter them where they fester, let us kill this insect by decree
What though some berate us, for we make a dark hole in ecology.

Your Legacy Your Lineage

Time takes age and does what it will
Man ages and wishes time to stand still.

There is infinite turning of the hands on a clock
As mortals we hear the constant tick-tock.

There is a human desire to leave something behind
Hoping our earthly possessions ease our greedy mind.

What is gathered on this planet of earth
Can not bring us back to our place of birth.

Helping others should be our lifetime goal
Not cluttering earth before you're put in a hole.

God gives us an ultimate rule
Love one another and not to be cruel.

If we really wish to leave something behind
Teach your children to give and to be kind.

Your legacy should not be what you can obtain
But what your lineage does each and everyday.

Premium Member Ocean Dolphins-

"Lo! the dolphin dotes laughs
My passion is the maritime coast
'Ocean!' said I, 'thing of seawater.'
Oceans dolphins 
In a kingdom full of coastlines
Eagerly I looked for the seaway
I crave the marine, more mare
That up bound jellyfish - that unbound jellyfish
I felt compelled to sniff the territorial waters
I am shorn of my catfish
I discovered the riverbanks
Suddenly, I heard some tiding
Rise, fly mighty dolphin up through the skies
And its eyes have all the ponding
Resulting and resulting with my pacific
But in the fact that it was fluttering
I had dreamed of ribs cluttering
Only this and a ameba
The west water whaling
The dry dock smiled
How they were curtailing, prevailing - derailing
I discovered the crayfish
I crave the marine, amidships maritime
Ah, distinctly I was swallowing
Rise, fly mighty dolphin up threw the skies"


11/19/21
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2021©

A Glimpse of Epiphany

A kaleidoscope of colors appeared making me smile
right after a thunderous southern summer rain
and it's width hovered over the earth for miles.

Prior to that moment despair's presence lingered awhile;
complexities of life previously caused much strain,
a kaleidoscope of colors appeared making me smile.

These arcs of lofty hues were as ancient as the Nile;
a prolonged glimpse of a rainbow inferring all is not in vain
and it's width hovered over the earth for miles.

Benevolence shown serenely like sparkles from a vial
bringing clarity to stressful detours cluttering life's lane;
a kaleidoscope of colors appeared making me smile.

Someone has a sense of humor and such great style
imparting significance in the sky as sands sift in grains
and it's width hovered over the earth for miles.

An epiphany from above quite like a radio perfectly on the dial;
with frequent focus on the firmament's views perception remains.
A kaleidoscope of colors appeared making me smile
and it's width hovered over the earth for miles.

The Protest

Straddling lines to make a point
Hand held billboards wingless
The same the Messiah un-annoint
The concern is remedy-less 

Only when I am awake its there
The un-shaming shame
Speaking for the deaf to hear
And spotlight in its blame
The old greased machine turned
Filled the potholes with pebbles
And I returned and yearned
To be rid of the system and foibles

What shoveling of the voice to sing
What cluttering of the day
To participate in parliament with the king
Somewhere the smoke goes not away

Premium Member The Fridge

Monday

                 It has come to my attention, that someone has been stealing from 

                 the communal fridge. I notice that my own personal milk with my

                 name on the bottle is half empty, also three fingers of my KitKat 

                 are missing. Please refrain, or action will be taken.

Tuesday

                 It has come to my attention, and I’m pleasantly surprised to see

                 my milk has been topped up, though, why two fingers of my

                 kitkat  in a V sign just beggars belief. Just tasted my milk, you 

                 dirty bastard. I will now be monitoring the fridge from my office.

                 You will be caught.

Wednesday

                  

                   It has come to my attention, the camera monitoring the fridge

                   is now monitoring the ladies toilet. This is intolerable, you are

                   usurping my authority. Heads will roll. I will now be moving the

                   fridge into my office until further notice.

Thursday

 

                   It has come to my attention, my office has been penetrated,

                   the fridge is missing, and I find a ransom note on my desk.

                   I don’t know who you people think you're dealing with, but

                   let me leave you in no doubt, I will find out who you are, and

                   you will be dismissed.

Friday

 

                   It has come to my attention, a delivery of fifty fridges is 

                   cluttering up the whole building, management is going 

                   ballistic. I concede to your demands, please get rid of

                   them. Let us get back to you taking my milk and my biscuits,

                   my job, my life. Just leave me alone.

          Thankyou.
© Paul Bell  Create an image from this poem.

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