Best Lumbered Poems


Premium Member Eye of the Tiger

Eye of the Tiger

Those eyes – piercing amber -
 So like mine
  Smoldering with uncaged curiosity 

I drown in the golden pools
 As I stalk across the floor
  Captured in a tractor beam of curiosity’s wonder.

Who is this little one
  Who stands so bold outside
   The boundaries of my cage yet lives in me?

This little one who stands unflinching
 As I approach
  On padded powerful paws of rolling withers

How I long to gaze
 Into her eyes
  And tell my savannah stories – homeland odyssey

How I long to hear
  Her small voice tell her biography –
   The jungle chronicles and fables of her life

How could you have
 Sun smoldering eyes like mine?
  Child and tiger never conceive the same families.

Little one don’t leave me!
  Don’t depart without sharing
   The feral eye of the tiger!

Little one, your memory possesses me
 Through the amber of our eyes
  My emerging fantasies, epic midnight saga sequels.

6-24-22
Contest: Pet Personification
Sponsor: Constance La France
Choice # 7 – No Pet

My eyes are an amber color like that of a tiger.  When visiting a zoo at ten years old, I stopped by the Bengal tiger display because I love cats of all sizes.  A huge, male tiger lumbered over and looked me directly in the eye as if to say: “Where did you get my eye color and why are you out there instead of being in here with me, cuz!”
Categories: lumbered, animal,
Form: Personification

Premium Member O Charming

Theres a saying that says that opposites attract 
Well I am so gorgeous it seems it's a fact
I like a plain girl for whom I can care
Cos I like a girl I'll not have to share

To not have to punch other blokes would be great
So I'm really glad you're a bit overweight
I'd like to point out that you've made the right choice
For no other man could put up with your voice

You shouldn't feel bad that you're not that good looking
At least I'm not dead from your ‘inventive’ cooking
And who else could bolster this ego of mine
But a girl just like you who drinks way to much wine

I see guys look at you, I guess that it's pity
They wonder why I'm not with somebody pretty
I love our nights in, we don't go out to dine
You might scare the children my sweet Valentine

Well this is well weird, I'm sat home alone 
You had to pop out when you'd answered the phone 
I glare at the clock and it's three in the morning
I'm nearly asleep and I cannot stop yawning 

At last there you are with that silly false smile
Some shortsighted fella has tried to beguile
A loser in love with no romantic powers
Who lumbered you up with chocolates and flowers 

Who's that outside with a rose that is red
Don't get no ideas about three in a bed
You should understand that it's me that you're for
Er... why are my suitcases outside the door?




17 February 2021
Contest: Valentines 
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
Categories: lumbered, humorous, valentines day,
Form: Rhyme

The Deamon Faire

The Deamon Faire
The Deamon Faire
a paroday of a novel
the awful ugly was moving slightly impaired in the fire was slowing it down
it was the deamon faire come to the home
the little child asleep in the hay
the pussy willow cat came to catch the deamon faire
she crept near the crypt
the deamon faire lumbered near the mill
the mill was turning wheel almost captured pussy willows tale
she sounded like a deamon cat all wound upp and upp too bat
indeed the deamon faire looked like a hairy bat in a suit with the tie
the cat pounced at the deamon faire and missed the splash was a wet pussy 
willow cat
she hissed the deamon faire sounded just like this
a long burning howl pulled over a wool scarf then turned into a screech
the outreach tried to reach the scene of the crime was an old pond milling and 
lumbering and long
overgrown ivy trailing
meandering overblown moss
the author was right up to this point and then she lost her train of thought the 
end of the book never tells us exactly what happened to the
The Deamon Faire
ed,note,ed
did you read Faire as FAIR  or FAIRY oh what a Happy Birthday Paroday
a real live dead poet charlax poetry poem
Categories: lumbered, adventure, birthday, fantasy,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Kedo

Kedo, I loved you
 You were a lovely boy
 Always ready to greet us
 With a ball or a toy.
 
 Always so happy
 Always ready to play
 With dogs or humans
 But not whippets you say.
 
 Don’t know the reason
 He hated that breed
 Think cos they’re small
 With a great turn of speed
 
 He was like a big tank
 That lumbered along
 Wasn’t built for speed
 Just big and strong.
 
 Now there is no face
 At the front door now
 No happy dog 
 Giving you a paw
 
 All I have are memories
 Of good days and bad
 When he dived in a pond
 Of mud which made me mad
 
 Had many days that were good
 He loved the sea
 Swimming further than he should
 Used to worry me.
 

 But in he would come back
 Looking so proud
 His prize in his mouth
 Barking out loud.
 
 Kedo my lovely boy
 Sleep now , no pain
 Live in Dogs Garden
 Til we meet up again.
 
 Go and find Cassidy
 Tramp and Fella too
 Make yourselves special friends
 Until I am with you.
Categories: lumbered, pets,
Form: Verse

Aka Jewfish

AKA JEWFISH

I hooked a JEWFISH back in 67 near
Key Largo in a creek of the same name
stripping my gear she yawned and swam away
at 50 lbs she was a monster I wanted to tame

2011 I hooked him yes him again
she’s a he they change sex unknown to me
in 50 years he gained 450 lbs my
massive tackle yanked him up for a look see

I cut the leader as he broke the surface
illegal to boat him between you and me
an endangered specie since we first met but
something else transpired in his family tree

JEWFISH no longer correct since
GOLIATH GROUPER gained political sway
opening that cavernous mouth again
flicking his fins he lumbered away

only in the Keys could a creature age 50 yrs
gain 450 lbs change sex and given name 
long after becoming an endangered specie
he’s still relevant and evidently in the game
Categories: lumbered, nature, seachange,
Form: Narrative

The Brontosaurus Bop

They thought in a dance they'd engage
As they lumbered about in a rage
These two with their scales
Thrashed about with their tails
Shook the ground in this pre-human age

They be-bopped with all of their might
These beasts that were really a sight
Not known for their grace
These giants saved face
By causing each other dire fright

So into the night they would dance
A sort of behemoth romance
They made history
An unsolved mystery
And quite a bizarre circumstance!
© Deb Wilson  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: lumbered, animals, history
Form: Limerick


Bloody Emptiness

Made dwelling at own home but living in emptiness,
The lumbered dreams are dying, what a heave is that;
Setting fire in water so fool wish, 
What hell have you done to me, what a damn is that.

Heart shakes by high heat the warmth protest,
Stars in the eyes shed tears, what a fatigue is that;
Inside of the heart at the seeping night, child’s whine pounds,
What hell have you done to me, what a deathtrap is that.

Sky colors up in romantic fashion, vain desire,
Blood sheds in extreme way, what a tyranny is that;
Darkness comedown by thunder strike, no way,
What hell have you done to me, what an injustice is that.

Lighting flame in juvenile mind so cursed penance,
The heart dances in the color hand, what a blood pressure is that;
Tears fall in the stream of rain, no measure,
What hell have you done to me, what a curse is that.

Darkness comes down by the call of death, so miser living,
Empty heart is full, what an abundant is that;
In the bloody addiction of love, distrust is only at all,
What hell have you done to me, what depose is that.

Arrayed the dreamy vessel live in mind an exotic migrant,
Lumbered obsession in passion, what an irony is that;
Gained at last damn twelve months full of pain,
What hell have you done to me, what a damn is that.
Categories: lumbered, love hurts,
Form: Free verse

Frankenstein Rebounds

It started with a single thread,
something, someone once had said
something, for which I still felt dread
something, that I'd long thought dead

This thing, that would not leave my mind,
this thing, so mirthless and unkind
a mote in ancient history's eye,
a speck of dust to make gods cry

I stitched the horrid thing together
with fingers flying fast as feathers,
on fear and pain and shame and guilt
and soon, I'd made this patchwork quilt  

It covered me from head to foot
a second skin; this horrid suit
and though it was the perfect size,
't was truly just a poor disguise

It stunk of hatred and revulsion,
self doubt and many more compulsions,
the ghastly scent drew clouds of flies
that follow close, when something dies

Rows of stitches that could be zippers
and dark red eyes just like the Ripper's,
a protruding pair of rusty bolts
to charge me with a million volts

A hideous and hulking brute,
all this work had now borne fruit
so now, 't was time to seek my mate
for surely, I deserve this fate  

Legs now stiffened as if poles,
I lumbered like a long dead soul
until a crowd began to form,
their horror whipping to a storm

Armed with verbal pitchforks true,
the deepest hatred did they spew
and banished me with utmost haste
to a land of ice; this frozen waste

Where I now wait for one to follow,
this monster with a heart so hollow
to free me, or to end my pain,
just so, I may begin again
Categories: lumbered, freedom, heartbreak, imagery,
Form: Rhyme

Cowboys and All That Jazz - For Phillip Garcia

Her poetry was conceived
'round fancy pants scraps,
inclined to reverberate wrangles
'tween an I reckon ma'am
and well versed jazzy visuals,
paid no mind to cowboy's
bumbling foolishness &
lumbered foreign gibberish 
knowing full well it was
a lone star disposition,
merely a Texan head trip

See y'all next time...


Written in response to him calling out my words as 'fancy pants'...all in good fun.

"Well yessum we surely do. Y'all fancy type just lasso circles 'round us with yer fancy pants words."
© Paloma P   Create an image from this poem.
Categories: lumbered, humor, hyperbole, nonsense, poetry,
Form: Free verse

Goodbye For Now

large yellow diesel machines coughed
coughed thick black smoke, caught their breath
struggled convulsively and after a series of loud farts
assorted groans and mechanical creaks                                                       
lumbered like broken old men waiting to pee.
Oh, they worked that day, from sun up                                                                            till the orange red sky was upon them
shivering in the cold dark desert sand                                                  
parked together like defenseless tadpoles, 
shaking and quivering in the damp night air,                                            
their job done for another day.
Building what, sand ramps, that's what.                                                   
From nowhere to nowhere!
another notch in the creative history                                                        
duly recorded for potentates from the east
who understand & see cows in the sky                                                         
or not so pretty women with tight green skirts
whores, dirty mattresses and rats                                                                  
who love the companionship                                           
of pencil pushing addicts alcoholics                                                          
and assorted beasts of the mind                                                         
Squalor is the key here
rub your nose in crap is the meaning of their sage advice
promulgated by the ass kissing majority                                                   
who worship at the altar of mendacity
after all, they were at M.I.T. and were bored.                                                
Who gives a shtt! Publish, it must mean something                                      
If it doesn' they were the first to do it!                                                       
Eat flesh and die. Filthy flesh at that,
hardly fine dining, but that's another story.
Goodbye for now.
Categories: lumbered, adventure, allegory, angst, fantasy,
Form: Blank verse

Premium Member Dad and Me Under the Sea

I went out with my dad today, to swim beneath the sea.
He took me by the hand and said ‘just stay right next to me’.

We stepped out to the water and we swam out on a wave,
I was nervous and excited but I tried to be so brave.

I grabbed his hand and looked below, my mask against my face,
I floated like an astronaut, just like in outer space.

At first I saw the ocean floor, with sand and rocks and reef,
and then my eyes beheld a world that seemed beyond belief…

Coral making strange new shapes with lots of little spaces,
and I could see all sorts of things were living in those places.

I saw some little Tiger Barbs, swimming ‘round an eel,
I couldn’t wait to tell my mom how great it made me feel.

Next, we swam to where the water started getting deep,
We came upon a turtle and we woke him from his sleep.

He turned to take a look at us and slowly swam away,
I hope I get to see him when I dive again some day.

There were so many creatures, so many things to see,
I forgot that I was swimming and simply felt so free.

I saw a pair of Goatfish, found a Trigger Fish, or two,
I saw a shrimp of red and white, deep in the ocean blue.

I got a little cold and asked my dad to go to shore.
He turned around and headed back and said to watch for more.

I was thinking we had seen it all when I finally got my wish;
to my surprise we came across a great big Puffer Fish!

He lumbered out of hiding and we followed him a while.
I wonder if he watched me back and if he saw me smile.

Well, we finally made it back to shore and on the sandy beach,
Excited that the ocean was no longer out of reach.

I can’t wait to go again, to see the fish below,
I think I’ll ask my friends next time if they would like to go.
Categories: lumbered, adventure, family, fish, inspirational,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The 2nd Remembrance - In Memory of Me

Remember me well as I give thanks to each mother.
You women of this world …are simply like no other!
Right from conception to those dreaded contractions.
The thought of our well-being dictated your actions.
You labour at birth for a labour of love,
The pain is immense as you push and you shove.
Through age of ‘innocence’, puberty and adolescence. 
With loving and patience, gave succour and guidance.
The angst that we brought was not what you sought
But you gave that no thought in a ‘battle’ well-fought.
From stroppy-boy teen, to the big ‘drama queen’.
Gave a shoulder to lean, as you dealt with the scene.
Get lumbered with nan, as you coped with the clan.
Laid out the best plan, as you do all you can.
Most men would implore, “I beg you, no more!!!”
So applaud you for sure; “Encore, plus encore”
How do I thank you? I can't match this feat!
To even things up: How do I compete?

This gender inequity has no parity; For when is your task ever complete?
The cry for equality is absurdity. Your strength alone makes it obsolete. 

….please allow me to….
Offer up my seat - while you rest your feet.
Hold open that door - you replenish your store.
Keep watch as you sleep - and so earn my keep.
Protect you from harm - by wiles or by charm.

When I put you 'first’, I’m just trying my best.
When I buy treats and snacks, it’s my way of saying ‘thanks’.
When I pay for a meal, it's still no big deal.
When I show you respect - it's the least you'd expect.

So many tributes have been written, but with your tenacity, I am smitten.
So be it mother or mama - or mummy or mater ...it matters not one iota...
The world's most arduous occupation ....with little or no reparation.
Retirement is never an option; but the 'bond of love' ...always the best 'pension'.

......so, finally I say this, dearest mother:
'You are a Princess, from the Heavens, borrowed.
Never shall you be, by this Earth, sorrowed'.

Robert A Amure (June 2012)
Categories: lumbered, care, love, mother, strength,
Form: Rhyme

Babbling Brook

There once was a babbling brook flowing through the field,
 just one look is all it took to see the beauty of nature’s gift-
 All the leaves from the trees seemed to gather in the weald,
 in the lumbered beaver dam lay a weak and broken rift.

 Just one look is all it took to see the beauty of nature’s gift,
 I see the cascading reflections surfacing with the ebb flow-
 In the lumbered beaver dam lay a weak and broken rift,
 for when the twilit moon arrives it leaves a honeyed glow.

 I see the cascading reflections surfacing with the ebb flow,
 with mossy vines running through the emerald of the trail-
 For when the twilit moon arrives it leaves a honeyed glow, 
 because of the morning dew, the water is left cold and frail. 

 With mossy vines running through the emerald of the trail,
 it spreads and reaches the distance no space can feel-
 Because of the morning dew, the water is left cold and frail,
 it shimmers below the setting of the sun that can heal. 

 It spreads and reaches the distance no space can feel,
 for in the light of day the grassy covered land is sincere-
 It shimmers below the setting of the sun that can heal,
 and as it glimmers it brings splendor into the atmosphere.

 For in the light of day the grassy covered land is sincere,
 all the leaves from the trees seemed to gather in the weald-
 And as it glimmers it brings splendor into the atmosphere,
 there once was a babbling brook flowing through the field.

December 14, 2016
Categories: lumbered, nature,
Form: Pantoum

Dr Frankensteins Monster

High upon the mountain 
a castle stood so proud. 
Down below in terror 
a noise was stirring loud. 

The Baron heard the voices 
he had short time to wait, 
for he had to get away 
his object of such hate. 

Up the hill they came 
with torches burning bright. 
Up towards the castle 
they were a blinding sight. 

The Monster was so slow 
he lumbered cross the floor. 
Then down a winding tunnel 
behind a hidden door. 

The Baron led him out 
and sent him on his way. 
Then went back to face 
the price he"d have to pay. 

The villagers were all in. 
Intent upon destruction, 
that thing the Baron made 
of human part construction. 

The castle was on fire 
as the Baron reappeared, 
the villagers fell silent 
as they faced the man they feared. 

At the edge of forest deep 
the Monster turned and stood. 
He would never understand 
why he was misunderstood. 

The Barons voice was loud 
as he shouted"God forgive, 
that you should all destroy 
the miracle i made live". 

There was silence for a moment 
as if they knew not what to do. 
Then hysteria took control 
and bedlam did ensue. 

The castle was burned down, 
the ashes now so cold. 
It has fallen into legend, 
a story to be told. 


But deep within a forest 
after fifty years and five. 
The Barons work is breathing 
and very much alive. 

Alone and in despair, 
afraid to show his face. 
Hated and despised 
by all the human race. 

A victim of a time 
when ignorance reigned supreme. 
And science had became 
a lost forgotten dream. 

A human tear fell down, 
the Monster gave a sigh. 
He only had one wish 
if only he could die.
Categories: lumbered, sadtime,
Form: Rhyme

Knowing Love

In crowded rooms I saw you but feared to say hello,
So I never invited you round for tea, instead I just wallow, 
In this life without love, I know not of what I have lost,
And each slightest sun beam cripples in the nightly frost,
Twisted branches hug me, creeping over lumbered limbs 
that know my smell, long for my touch and tangle in my sins,
I am desperate to break free from the blackened bark,
And rid me of this sombre paint, my colourless birthmark,
I long to smell the salty breaths of the wild and violet ocean,
But instead I numbly follow each life-long learnt emotion,
But frothy waves desert me,
And these twisted branches hurt me,
Though they say they love me dearly, they pierce into my sullen skin.

When I first met you love, I didn’t know what to think,
I’d been on stormy tides for years and I balanced on the brink,
I know not of what I am my love as I float with you beside,
And I know not of what I will now become on these tempest tides,
To take the risk of having you is to leave known loneliness,
But in this cloistered room my breaths unwillingly confess,
Your flowers bud from rotting wood in calm sporadic delight,
And blossom amongst dewy moss against a sunless fight,
Maybe we can share a brew my dear, a steamy cup of love,
“Please do not shy away from me”, sweetly sings your mourning dove,
But blooming orchids scare me,
And the roses thorns cling to me, 
Though I long for your touch my love, I am nothing without my kin.

You say you have always known me love, as though you were always there,
Like you were always at the breakfast table and I always had a chair,
You’ve bought me out of darkness dear, without shadows I cannot hide,
I feel you watching me as I sleep, from my one lamped, one booked bedside,
You’re with me in my dreams my love but not keeping tears at bay,
But now when glassy eyes run deep I’m no longer in the clay,
There will be times when I desert you and leave your loving hold,
But know I’ll always think of you until I am grey and old,
I promise to always love you love and I’ll always be home for tea,
And I thank you love for loving me though at times I’ve wanted to flee,
Now caring words they warm me,
And growing forests holds me,
Though we are new born friends my love, just now I love you love, yes always.
Categories: lumbered, blessing, friendship love, i
Form: Rhyme
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