Best Ramming Poems
There was change, an odd pulse,
a new cadence and tone, in the place I grew up
where my mother had been...
Where white fences stretched out to cradle our home
but where zones, unfamiliar, were on now on the cusp
On a make-shift bed, I was lying awake
Windows cracked open,
a wind coming in, ....
Intangible nights, in the familiar old room,
alone with my thoughts, while sorting out things...
There was a strange, jaundice glow, from the porch light, left on,
and my pillow felt cold, where the moon used to go
The sound of a moth, batting wings against glass,
was begging for warmth, while seeking to ask, a place that made sense
And a place to fit in
My father was sleeping, with his newlywed bride
in the same maple bed, where my mother had died
And a new child was dreaming in the soft yellow room
where I spent all those nights, ... just me and the moon
I was happy for him, and for the child that he gained.
I was there at his side,
when the changes became.. a part of his life, ...... a part of mine too
but was lost in the amber, like a moth batting wings
Eventually, I would grow with a fresh point of view,
but the child that I was, still waits for the moon
I'm older and wiser, maybe stronger than then
but, the moth will look in, escaping the moon
ramming the screen
seeking the flame...
batting its wings,
while resisting the change, ...again, and again
11/3/14
Alice in Wonderland
Was my favorite book as a kid
I used to pretend that I was Alice
Having tea with the Mad Hatter
And the March Hare
But now I pretend that I am the Mad Hatter
For my mind is unhinging itself
Breaking away from reality
Till I can no longer recall
What is real and what is a dream
My emotions often get the best of me
But I have learned to smother them
But sometimes like a pot on the stove
It boils over and out
And I can't contain it
My mind is and becomes a freight train
Ramming itself against my skull
At 8, 11, at 1 in the morning
It is constantly running
And it never stops
I can't tell anyone about this
They'll think I'm insane
But what can I say
My mind is my own Wonderland
And I am but just the Mad Hatter
Along the mountain pine valley did the Iron Horse roar,
A steam belching black demon, burning red hot coals
Within it's steel belly.
Speed's hell bound creation, driven by greed's insatiable hunger,
Faster, faster it moves at acceleration rush, to
Achieve manifest destiny's final arrival on time.
In the distance hear another lone whistle blow, spitting,
And spewing with brimstone's gray smoke.
This indeed is the devil's train, carrying the forsaken,
To the depot of no return.
With a half empty payload aboard, Satan makes a deadly
Judgment call, stoke up those engines boys, ramming
Speed if you please.
Made man beasts are these mechanical monsters
Of destructions, lethal death weapons, chained
Down to the steel rails, and iron pikes.
Ebony stallion's racing against the winds,
As redden sparks sizzle and bite at the crisp autumn
Air, bellowing fumes poisoning the night.
The engineer of the 10; 15 out of Tombstone,
Checked his pocket watch, speaking impatiently,
He did so yell out, come along fellow's, we have a
Schedule to keep, and we've hours behind in our dead line,
So let’s pick up the pace.
Now the devil's train came out of know where,
With hell's supernatural master at the wheel,
Heckling, and laughing, relishing in the carnage’s
Utter calamity to come.
On a lone chewed up mangled piece of track,
Lies wreckages debris blood, flesh and twisted metal,
Lain stewned for miles beside the wild wilderness.
Broken bones, and sheared off limbs, weeping mother's
Cradling limp, lifeless bodies, crying why, God almighty
Why?
But the lord and heavenly father, had nothing to do,
With this unnatural disaster, nay the devil had many
Empty spaces to fill, and his passengers list was lean.
So he leveled the crimson ground with his dark gavel,
Taking souls at high velocities supernatural speed,
For this is the devil's ghost train, and it is so
Hell bound.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
She pleaded to me with a blushed body,
ready readily for the holiday my maintinance could muster for her pink engine,
the electricity my overtime bedtime love ryhme induces, innerbody outerbody attention,
my woman pled and I fed, her skin smelled like sweet leather, expensive and exotic,
her taste, oh her taste,
a salt infused with inimitable vanilla extract of erotica,
shes my virgin tonight, shes my soul purpose, my handicraft her sole investment,
my rough hands ceaselessly surveying the surface of her vulnerable and vital being,
no flaws are found, because no flaws are sought, no resistense, nothing fought,
upright together, gripping her nape, kissing the pulse on throat,
flaxen hair swiming across my focused face, one arm around lower curve of back,
in unison the slots inbetween my thumb and index sweep upon her breast
cleverly turning & tightning into nipples elevated for enclosing excitment,
eyelashes grazing my cheek and her moist mouth on earlobe
elicit the need for perpendicular laying, for ramming motion ritual,
I unfold her, with fingers lovingly clasped on that nimble neck of hers
as I insert and glide with a job to do, a love to pursue,
the words came latter, instinct inspired now -
J.A.B.
ANAGRAMMATIC Poetry Form
An anagram mantra
Gramma acting manic
Mama in a catamaran, cramming in a cigar
A martian mating in mint gin
A cat antic, grit at a rat act
Magma in a tin, anti-gamma rant
A tram cart ramming a car mart
Magi antic tracing air art
Gain magic in a grim margin
Am I an ant? A racing gnat?
I grin at rain, I’m a maniac again
Tag. I am it. ;)
The Darwin Awards are a posthumous honor, recognizing those who have improved the human gene pool by removing themselves from it by their own foolish actions.
In a robbery way out in Long Beach
Elliot's handgun misfired in the breech
Down the barrel he took
A quite scatterbrained look
Then made it more than a figure of speech
There was a foolish fellow named Gary
Who gulped gasoline over near Cary
The fuel made him gag
So he fired up a ***
And now smokes in the state mortuary
"Look, no helmet!" Phil proudly decried
In the headgear disobedience ride
He stood for his rights
Then put out his lights
When he flew off his Electra Glide
An impatient Korean got miffed
And was ramming the doors of the lift
Then went a bit daft
When he got the shaft
But his ride to the bottom was swift
References:
http://jdgroover.wordpress.com/2013/08/20/the-2013-darwin-awards-are-out/
http://www.darwinawards.com/darwin/darwin2012-03.html
http://www.darwinawards.com/darwin/darwin2011-03.html
http://www.darwinawards.com/darwin/darwin2010.html
Water lapping at edge of the boat beneath the silence of the sky
Swaying branches of mopane trees and fish eagles cry
Wind of changing seasons and melting palates of hue
in the blood red sunset glow and murky silvery water blue
Elephants in numbers dot the shores
hippo’s and crocodiles are at the core
of many memories and visions of old
Lake Kariba, in land sea
full of tiger fish and bream
The endless blue that roles into the distance
where the sun rises and falls in panoramic vista
The skeletons of petrified monuments scattered in the sea
forests of pre historic trees swaying in the breeze
It wasn’t always peaceful, tranquil, and still
nature has no chance to relax and withdraw
Scheming and dreaming in the depths of men’s mind
Up Up Up goes the building and climbs
Man made dam, Damn big problem
How could this feet of engineering the power of ages old be so easy
to tame such a wild beast as the zambezi
POURING OUT THE CONCERT
RAMMING THE RODS OF STEEL
DRIVING THE WATER BACK INTO THE HILLS
HOWEVER, THE RIVER REFUSED TO YEILD
THE WALL BEGAN TO TIP, BUCKLE, AND KEEL
NOT ONCE, TWICE, WATER MARCHED THROUGH
LIKE A FACELESS WARRIORS, DESTROYING THE BARRIER
THE FORCE OF THE RIVER WOULD NOT BE SUBDUED
LIKE ALL NATURAL EVENTS, THE WAVES BEGAN TO SUBSIDE
THE SOLDIERS OF BLUE WITHDREW
UP WENT THE WALL, COMPLETED, IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME
Animals and people lost in the rising tide
from river, to dam, to lake to inland sea
Great and panoramic became the horizon wide
Like a whisper on the edge of wind
was a grand concert of ages gone by
Played out by wildlife, land, water, and sky
A harmonic existence of sublime serenity
Life here brings closure to one’s perspective
the sent of dust and adventure is quiet infective
The place of the skeleton trees, mountain passes, and copper sun still
where the stars in the universe, scatterings like lost thoughts, visions, and chants chill
across the forging path, that strides through this african wilderness blue
Lake Kariba, the artery of the north, run straight, run true.
S taying up late making
tamales
A n afternoon poker game
C ramming together in a small
house
R eminding the young ones
how bad we used to have it
I nclement weather can’t keep
siblings apart
F amily getting together,
sharing great memories
I ntroducing my son to cousins
he has never met
C radling the young ones as
they try to wait up for Santa
E xpressing our love through
cards, gifts, calls, sweets, and
visits
+++++++++++++++++++
++++++++++++++
Inspired by brians contest "love
came down"
Once the name of *Lord Ram is rammed in your heart
Everything you’ve -fortune, freedom, fullness and fame
To act in the situations of pleasure, pain, loss and gain
And in every walk of life unfailingly you will get alert.
The Ram is a male of the sheep symbolizing sacrifice
Representing protection as he protected the herd
First to be sacrificed, known as Aries in Latin word
Taken from the Old Testament, a symbol for Christ.
Ram-random access memory- rammed in a computer
Used by programs to perform necessary tasks
And equally accessible are all the storage locations.
That allows information to store and access in any order.
To ram is to strike or butt, to drive through or against
Ram your mind into focus when in despair or doubt
To force, to cram, to drive with violence, to thrust
don’t ram this Ram in with foul smocks, socks and shirt.
Ram’s a proper noun, a common noun, verb and adjective
Symbolizing a person like Lord Ram in Hinduism or Christ
A Zodiac sign, with an attribute of a headstrong activist
Forcing an action, ramming foundation, rarely destructive.
****************
*Lord Ram , the incarnation of one of the Lords, Vishnu of Trinity in Hinduism,
Born as a person in India.
====================================================
Third Place win in:
Contest: What’s in a Name sponsored by Linda-Marie, the sweetheart of PS
Dr. Ram Mehta (male)
A husband with a severe allergy issue
Erupted a huge sneeze, going achishoo,
His poor wife flew across the floor
Exiting through a closed back door,
Next time he should use a tissue.
Version 2
A husband's severe allergy issue
Caused a huge sneeze going achishoo,
His wife shot across the slippery floor
Ramming through a closed back door,
Next time he should use a tissue.
---which version do you prefer?
This morning we are engulfed by a flirtatious fog
that seduces the skin of our hopes,
it's warm smother touches softly then suddenly skirts away
parting for the penetration of our will
whirling blithely as we taste the course that carries us into the bay of it's foaming bliss,
a salty smoke that seems to be spilling inland
from the burning edges of the world itself,
the ocean is in a fury only a few miles outside the bay
ramming it's very soul into the cliffs of paradise
chanting in a single violent growl
we can feel it's percussion in our chests,
it is November 6th
and on this day, as a family of survivors
and as a gang of explorers
we stride with pride to the summit's edge,
standing still and firm, stout against the winds of disbelief
and quiet in reverence for the might and miracle that this moment represents,
we take hold of eachother's hands, facing the ocean's ancient emotions
and I offer a prayer of gratitude and desire for continued guidance aloud,
as I finish we raise our hands and shout
We are God's eagles...We are the Almighty's eagles!...
J.A.B.
I travel in my imagination to talk to the sky about the sound from crying
Mum, the coastal area erosion my interest to take the risk to talk the
night gown glowing beneath the wind from the vile of verbose. The night
sombre to talk to me in lusty thy heart call to convey the conversation to
the contraction of my imagination pole to polemic night.
The cart of load middle of office article of etiquette acquiring the anchor
of life floating on the top of leafs to the drop of a pen that sound
inculcate Carbon Monoxide in my lungs, the bugs ramming the trim chopped to
the shape of my poetry garage, where lullaby play violin appeasing the
heart to function for the follow six years to come in the future to the
Futuristic that I have to feature all the songs sang by the birth to take
to me to my birthplace over second of ponder to pedal the hurdles to better
future star.
The shape of a room isn't my stop where building of atomic infractions dust
the dock to the documents of love, salad of emotions building in to into-to
Ruin not thy heart it sound correct to the correspondent reticent, the
Wagging of tail enjoins the brown color to the skyscraper in the heart of
the city sun. The ink of hate won't drop to the sound of pebble and the map
Of courage cool down the ridges moan of baby.
The high thinking keep on colonizing my entire colorless breathe that
wanted to shake to the voice of the night, the taste of understanding swirl
meek hard and aim of okra is too slippery the road to sound of success is
second hand to those placed theirs, the might blame the corrosive
Situation pink of flowers impact changes to the scent of cigar.
pill pop
once you like it
you can't stop
hit rock bottom
or dead you drop
and under six
buried by twelve
this feeling
it lingers
and laughs
as you dumpster dive
half awake
half alive
quasi brain
dope.
dope. sick. pain.
can you handle
can you battle the shame
everyone around
has to get a dig in
or a word to add
to this feelingless
bad. sad. glad
over zealous i am jealous
of the simple life
and all the things i had
are having me instead
it's so good
i can handle it
i'm okay did i stutter when i spoke
it's under control
once elation takes hold
and this slippless
grip i'm under
throws me around
just to catch me
and do it again when will it end
does it end
with these words i say
i don't have to own this
or take defense
you did this i'm sane
i keep lists and records of those i blame
can you handle
can you battle the shame
dope.
dope. sick. pain.
and i'm just so tired
of hurting everyone
around me
the damage done
has left me lonely
and as of now i feel
only
God loves me
don't judge me
just try to understand and love me
for what i want to become
and what i am
it's okay
now i'm better
i've got the shakes
a little sick
under the weather
and once this
physical pain it leaves me
i'm back to the beginning
with no one
to trust me
just love me
hearted holy
and fully
fighting demons
in my brain
can't complain
i did this
i started it
time to finish
not a hurdle
i can jump over bemoan
and dismiss
i know with him
i am not alone
so God give me strength
to fight this fight
i pray
take this dope
dope. sick. pain. away.
and slowly
like honey
i gather my respect
save some money
catch a glance of the life i need
and take heed
give away all greed at full
raging ramming speed
and this selfish taking
try to stop breaking
all these hearts left aching
and praying for my
safety, it overtakes me
and shakes me
God gives me a little peace
time to mourn
to forgive and get on
deal with it
one by one
day by day
til' it's gone
demons slain
calm smooth waves of him
envelop develop
go through me til' i'm new
yet still the same
dope.
dope. sick. pain.
It started in Stirling, English blood was shed
A hero was named, All around men lay dead
The claymore was wielded against many a foe
Ancient scores settled with every blow
We marched south to york, a city to sack
ramming down the gate it broke the men's back
Once inside we ransacked the town
English bodies dead pilled high on the ground
The kings nephew commanded, we cut of his head
We put it in a basket to London it was sent
Now on to Falkirk, we were flanked by a foe
The nobles were bought off, our country was sold
They would not commit to the battle that day
Cowards and scoundrels were Albas nobles that day
Our cowardly nobles, a Hero betrayed
On a slab in London executed he lay
He would not submit to English tyranny
Alba Gu Bragh were the words that he said
Explosions rock the boat;
Ocean gushes inside.
The battered stern won't float,
All controls lock their slide.
Listing fifteen degrees,
The lifeboats fail to launch.
Swift decent lugs a squeeze
Impossible to staunch.
After mounting seconds
The vessel starts to slow,
While the stark deep beckons
To swallow them below.
Schweiger spies the turmoil
From aboard U-20.
Acts of rage shall embroil.
Outcomes destroy plenty.
Along the starboard side,
Crewmen sadly lose grip.
Force and terror collide--
Rag dolls plummet and flip.
The Merseyside Bowler,
Captain Bill Turner stays
As the helm controller
Until the sea betrays.
He scoops the chart and log
Before tossed by the wave
To splash down in the fog
As deck chairs bob to save.
Eighteen minutes stalk down
As the queen disappears,
This vessel of the crown
Sheds life essence like tears.
Of the forty-eight rafts,
Only six salvage lives.
Few are plucked from the craft,
Rescued before the dive.
Bodies scramble for life
As the rouge flotsam floats.
Survivors torn by strife
Wait for swift rescue boats.
The massive toll of grief
Demands a quick response.
Liars sell disbelief,
More soldiers to ensconce.
Freedom dies from deceit
Since justice needs to thrive.
Heroes wail in defeat
When covert acts contrive.
So Schweiger falls denounced
For his sinister role.
Yet U-boats do fall trounced
By the British patrol.
Bounties Cunard offers
To captains ramming foes
Offer tempting coffers
For quelling danger woes.
Poor Lusitania!
Dashed by corruptive lies.
Megalomania,
Shielding truth in disguise.
The sleeping giant stirs
Due to brutal accounts,
Sparking violent slurs
With omissive recounts.
Woodrow Wilson blusters
At the German attack
While the bankers muster
To break our nation’s back.
Indignant elites rule
Behind grim deception.
Lessons untaught in school
Show wicked inception.