Best Clutters Poems
Wanting…
Fills up time and clutters my mind.
Make me happy, I don’t like waiting.
The unknown hurts.
Not knowing my heart – the worst pain of all.
Categories:
clutters, growth,
Form:
Free verse
Happily discontent, that I am, that I be
now future
happy discontent
achievable out of reach
joie de vivre bags of regrets
what I am now what I could be
love the journey are we there yet?
live in the present dream of becoming
I'm truly self made I'm reactionary, dependent
let it be, let it be, now endless mindful reflection
I’m restless, but at peace unable to sleep, daydream
I’m thankful for many things when will this nightmare end?
nothing is perfect, fully satisfies quest for perfection ruins the journey
life is an ever evolving process hit or miss, sink or swim, stuns growth
a chest full of good things in life a pile of things underachieved, undone
thankful for what I’ve got so far I want more, but I'm burdened by failures
acceptance without complacency resentful, jealous of what others have
accept that creativity makes mistakes counting failures, clutters & confounds
Categories:
clutters, angst, anxiety, nostalgia,
Form:
Free verse
still it hovers about
clutters my mind
clouding my heart so
tell me why i'm at a loss
i'm frozen transfixed
caught in time
left hanging suspended
in the limbo of not knowing
of seeking answers
of searching for a key
a key with implied powers
powers to unlock secrets
secrets that hold me back
back to places I've forgotten
forgotten yet mere dormant
its pulse still in synchronicity
in harmony with the gentle rhythm
of a melody that resonates in my heart
AP: 3rd place 2025
Categories:
clutters, heart, longing, music, solitude,
Form:
Free verse
I have a ridiculously large head,
I think I’d opt for a smaller one instead.
Oh, sure, you say that it suits me fine,
That’s because yours isn’t near as big as mine.
I bet that it weights at least thirty pounds,
It looks even bigger than it sounds.
When I lay it down on my waterbed,
A tsunami rises so my wife has said.
When I go to try on winter hats,
The clerk gives me ones with ventilation slats,
That way when it’s not on sitting my dome,
It can be used as a guest room for my home.
My giant head is entirely too big,
Someday archeologists will venture on dig,
They’ll think that I came from the highland,
On the west end of Easter Island.
Little kids stare up at my noggin,
They think it could be used for a toboggan.
Or a shed to hold random hodgepodge,
That clutters things up in their dad’s garage.
Don’t tell me that it’s due to my intellect,
It makes your judgment sound suspect.
It’s because my brain is fashioned like a brick,
And my skull is so very, very thick.
Categories:
clutters, funny, me, easter, me,
Form:
Light Verse
Slaves of wages for generations
long forgotten in history’s screenplay.
Each hand for a moment has held
the torch.
The people are waiting in lines.
All toilers have resisted.
All skins have felt the blaze of blood.
The people are waiting in lines.
While trash still clutters the streets,
while starving stomachs
roam like rabid dogs.
The people are waiting in lines.
Our tears have been cleaved
and parceled,
sold like floodplain to the blind
by corporate politicians,
while the people are waiting in lines.
We are lured to live among the cushions,
to rest here where the river rises.
No markets can be called free
while hosting inequality.
The people are waiting in lines.
We medicate to escape,
numbing to the barbarization.
No economy can be called just
without democracy.
The people are waiting in lines.
We shall watch for clues.
We will know the signs.
Every torch shall rise.
The people are waiting in lines.
Published: Dissident Voice, August 2, 2020
Categories:
clutters, america, class, poverty, rights,
Form:
Political Verse
Schoolyard Politics
Schoolyard politics' basic training began in grade school,
Escalated in middle, and by high school reigned supreme.
What should have been a pruning ground for civility and
Respect, now clutters "the road less traveled" with rhetoric,
Dehumanization, and narcissism. No honour.
No exhibition of professed love for, "...God's own image...",
(Of which all humans were made, regardless of their beliefs,
Or skin colour). Would it not be better to find something
Positive...something good, and truthful about another,
Rather than to continue the bullying cycle of
Childhood, grade school mentality, where love was first strangled?
Life's not: "all about me". It's us. And we, can "change our stars"!
3.24.2017©deborah burch
Form: Blank Verse
Notes:
1- "the road less traveled" ---from Robert Frost's poem of same title
2- "...God's own image..." ---Holy Bible
Genesis 1:26-27
3-"...change our stars..." ---" A Knight's Tale- starring Heath Ledger
(about changing one's destiny regardless of circumstances)
Categories:
clutters, allegory, metaphor, political,
Form:
Blank verse
Nutter-Butter
Thoughts of him touching
me stirs my heart to flutter.
My head floods with emotions
and fantasies, it clutters.
When he calls me on the
phone I stammer and stutter.
When he tells me he loves me,
I melt like butter.
Trying to steer this sinking ship
is like a boat with a broken rudder.
I sit all day in a daze, when people
ask me questions all I do is mutter.
I’m in love with
this nutter-butter!
Categories:
clutters, funny, loveme, me,
Form:
Rhyme
The river flows in a one way ticket
Drew memory of the dreaming man
Followed water level like a picket
In the rainy season, the water spans
Water becomes shallow in summer
He recollects his long loving days
Spent in the sweet and sour clutters
Finally, like the river she went away
He believed relationship was durable
The family bind lacked the continuity
The seasonal water to be comparable
River and love passed by definitely
His heart fulfilled by self-compassion
Living will never be full of perfection
Categories:
clutters, lost love, love, river,
Form:
Sonnet
A Poetic Mind
A poetic mind will never find it so hard to see the words....to feel the words...
to place the words so perfectly where he or she may want them to be...
in a poetic mind lays a soul....that has enough control to impose
that words are never easy to let go...so they over flow....some darker than others...which smothered the un uttered compact and cluttered words.....
a poetic mind will unwind from time to time....some poems will rhyme....more often than many will not....but that won't stop that poets poetic mind....
day dreams of the words that fall into place in front of faces....
not leaving spaces on the paper to write another un uttered smothered word that compacts and clutters the poets poetic mind like window shutters....
A poetic mind can never let words just be...written from left to right....
its just to easy to write....a mesh of words....words blistering the finger tips
from the pen grips...and the paper scrapes...across each line because
that poetic mind will find it....so easy to grind it or engrave the words...so a poetic mind becomes a slave to the paper....blank is it...seems to be....
but on a blank sheet of paper I see....words rhyming in perfect harmony....
made from the poetic part of the mind of me....this poetic mind won't find it hard to see....the words that I perfectly place together....whether in blue or black
my poetic mind won't cut slack to the blisters on my finger tips....
or let go of my pen that drips in motion that places....the words so gracious...
leaving paper with no spaces to write another smothered compact un uttered word made from a poetic mind....a mind of mine....
P.O.E.T.I.C M.I.N.D
E. H. A. E
T. O. T. S
E. M. T. P
R. A. H. I
S. E. R
W. I
T
O
Categories:
clutters, poetry, poets, spoken word,
Form:
Ode
It's astounding people worried about your well being
an current situation,
But, always trying to investigate 2 find
out critique information,
rather criticize an judge you
And don't even know half of what
you went thru.
God is the only one who is 2 be
judgmental,
An in the same light can still see
your true potential
mind your business an stop being concern
with others
worry about yourself an situating
your clutters.
Categories:
clutters, business, feelings, jealousy,
Form:
Personification
A chorus of the hungry
Father, we are here, singing choruses
To a crowd of witnesses
A scattering of utterances among crows
Muttering things
About this and that
Unknown quantities of baloney
Seasoned with desert salt
As the scene arranges itself with the usual players
Preachers, Pimps, power brokers, pen pushers
Worshipers and whisperers
It will not matter whether I lived
Or died begging. What matters is that we are here
Unnoticed
Watching with the watchers
Herds of putty faced plutocrats filing past us
Past decorous doors
Into the depths of the pleasant places
Inside
Lettered sous-chefs salt
And season yet another crowd of butchered beasts
Where lingers another hearty feast
For hunters, gatherers and whisperers
Armies
Of half butchered waitresses with painted faces
And battered souls attempting to hide
The bandages and splinters that hold together
Their fractured internal structures
And ignoring the empty laughter. Like us
And they try hard not to stutter
There may be a tip at the end of the shift
And chatter hovers
In the many places, above the clinking of glasses
On the other side of other doors
Cutlery gathers and clutters
In the able hands of busboys and dishwashers
And more grease spatters
Categories:
clutters, analogy, food, life, power,
Form:
Oh Lord, keep Your arm around my shoulder,
And Your hand over my mouth,
As I go about my business,
Do my work and keep my house;
And when it comes to doing that,
Help me to do just that.
Help me to sweep up my own dirt,
Instead of staring at,
All the dirt that clutters 'round,
My neighbor's dirty door step.
Let me instead tend to my own,
For there I'll find more yet.
Let me not be quick to judge,
Nor slow to lend an ear,
And help me keep a civil tongue,
Offending not Your ear.
If I can't speak one good word,
Let me not speak at all,
For in the multitude of words,
The devil has a ball.
Help me to remember,
What goes on inside my head,
Will find it's way out through my mouth,
And fill my life with dread;
So teach me Lord, to think good thoughts,
For as the saying goes,
It's often best to close your mouth,
And just breathe through your nose.
"THE CHARACTER OF EVEN A CHILD CAN BE KNOWN BY THE WAY HE ACTS, WHETHER WHAT HE DOES IS PURE AND RIGHT."
Proverbs 10:11
"TO HATE IS TO BE A LIAR, TO SLANDER IS TO BE A FOOL."
Proverbs 10:18
"A WISE MAN HOLDS HIS TONGUE. oNLY A FOOL BLURTS OUT EVERYTHING HE KNOWS."
Proverbs 10:14
Categories:
clutters, inspirational, peace, people, me,
Form:
Quatrain
My nose is getting red like Santa’s perhaps I’ll grow a beard
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
I’ve hidden all the wrapped up boxes and all the clutters cleared
My son is on the air-o-plane he is getting VERY, very near!
Got the balsam wreathes up from Big Y and hung them on the doors
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
Go pick a pretty bulb out from the boxes on the floor
and set it out at ready for the big tree will soon appear.
Soon I’ll drive to JFK to get the MAN that big ole kid
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
If I had a bright red sleigh I’d get there fast like Santa did,
avoiding all the Yuletide traffic, why yes, I’d steer right clear.
With my red nose and a borrowed beard, red hat and all
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
I’d shift the pillow in my drawers and the crowd would be appalled
You’d see security winking “There’s a coo-coo over here!”
They’d let me through with no pat down, no scan of Santa’s tummy
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
I’d shout it to the customs guards “It’s just HIS loony Mummy!”
I need him to set up the pine tree before he disappears.
His friends have called their all waiting there is more of them than me
Welcome to my holiday home at this special time of year
One of the few times I see that boy by time and spaces decree
I’ll call them all to gather for the trimmings of yesteryear.
Categories:
clutters, devotion, family, funny, holidayred,
Form:
Kyrielle
Still heat. The dust in the gutters
is dry. A droning fly
can be heard through the shutters.
Ruined walls. Rubble. Sun-cracked plaster.
Afternoon, and nothing stirs.
Things should be moving faster.
Some streets away, a gun stutters, then stills.
So, they persist in killing each other,
blind to the evil, massing in the hills.
The poets and plumbers are kings for a day.
All they do is bicker, while
the chance is slipping away.
No bombs have fallen for days. The climax is coming.
A car screams past, daubed with crude letters, and is gone.
The fly continues its monotonous humming.
You are badly mistaken, because
you think you've converted the people.
The enemy is inside your defences. He always was.
He's not dead, or cowed, or beaten, though
you thought you'd rid yourselves of him.
Oh, no. He's still here. He's just lying low.
When he cheered you, he was lying.
He'll just lurk in half-dark rooms
till palace flags are once more flying.
Revolution? Workers presiding?
Afraid not. The "others" haven't defected or fled.
They're in the shadows. Waiting. Hiding.
Barricades bristle. Garbage clutters.
Infection festers in neglected corners.
The fly drones on behind the shutters.
Categories:
clutters, history,
Form:
Rhyme
Wake-up 'O' friend... !
Wake up 'O' friend, wake right-up from thy stupor,
Wake yourself up now, from the mind and senses induced torpor!
Wake-in to the awakening that longs to see light,
Wake in to the 'Self' with true Will, 'your true right'!
The first step to it is, to be up before the Sun,
Spend a while within, before you get on your feet to run!
While you are within - the most precious time to treasure,
Time slows down and eases you of all self-induced pressure.
Catch a glimpse of 'You', if you succeed and relate;
Realise those controls in 'you', there is nothing else known as fate.
The deluded mind seems intent, to reign one into its tethers;
Take them into your folds, and negate those frills and fetters.
Be aware of every breathe, along with it - your daily chores;
Pointed focus on one at a time, 'Clutters' - meditative state abhors!
Be wary of the urge to stray with a resolve that is firm,
In time, you see them subside, with scattered thoughts that squirm!
Structure the outside of you and streamline the day;
Make sure to ride over self-will, practice selflessness - the 'Wise' say.
Put others' happiness and comfort ahead of thine and revel;
Swap anger with love and feel the warmth in contentment that swell !
The body to be gently coaxed to cooperate with one's attempt ;
If not brought in order, it will hold all your endeavours in contempt !
Stop at nothing and don't give-in to the lure of fallacies abound ;
Be with peers who are also Seers, to help you if you hit aground.
Be warned and cautioned of tyrant inside - 'the in-dwelling ego' ;
Only way to get rid of it is to surrender with-in, then let-go and forgo !
It is a harmonious quest to align the Soul with body and the mind ;
To realise and release thy 'Self' from this mundane 'worldly grind'.
Categories:
clutters, inspiration, life, motivation, philosophy,
Form:
Couplet