Best Rubbles Poems


Procrastination

Skimming through paragraphs,
I seem to stretch time and shrink my attention 
Underlining words I can't grasp
With my limited span of concentration,
Creating art I can't explain 
Stick men and asymmetrical shapes, 
Spiralling into mazes and dotted lines 
Lost in an alphabet jungle. 
Encircling page numbers, 
Decorating the margins with unflattering flowers, 
Marking pages with , blue, pink, fluorescent ink, washing them dry 
And awfully bright, missing out on the 'fatality rate' mentioned. 
Little wings sprouting from a wavering mind, flying away from topics of discussion.
Dragging my imaginary feet across events in memory;
 faces and voices muffled and in disarray 
Eyes still glued to statistics and rates, 
But seeing ten thousand flickery lights ;
 dreams of glitter and starry nights. 
Thoughts then seem like little bubbles, 
helping me procrastinate much  longer. 
A finger snap would sound like a rifle shot at this point, 
Shattering the world I made, 
And awareness rising from rubbles, 
Would speak for itself, about things I cannot evade.

Lament For the Dead

Lament for the Dead

buried deep beneath
Twin Towers’ bloodstained rubbles
my murdered loved one

a heartbroken heaven wept 
trapping joy in a time warp…




In memory of Alva Sanchez who was killed on September 11, 2001, during the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, in New York City; and dedicated to my nephew, Ryan who was left motherless.


02-11-2015

Contest:      Tanka Tears
Sponsor:     Rick Parise
Placement:  HM

Premium Member Evie's Cookin Da Books

When Evie wrote her first cook book
Her neighbour, Val, oh how she shook
What she found on page nine
Was HER steak in red wine
She declared sneaky Evie a crook
 
It caused such abominable troubles
Especially when Val’s cousin, Bubbles
Found HER trout recipe
On page seventy three
Evie's reputation is in rubbles


For Evie her goose is now cooked
‘Fowl’ actions can’t be overlooked
Recipes not by her
Sure has caused quite a stir
Her deception it now has been booked

Thanks to Lin Lane for her comment on the poem which inspired the final stanza ... and before anyone asks ... I DID ask permission to use her thoughts lol!


Inspired after reading an article on recipes being plagiarised 

https://www.eater.com/2015/3/19/8259393/recipe-plagiarism-in-the-food-world-is-still-rampant



04/02/20


A Trophy's Atrophy

for it, the hot-blooded campus youth
   booed and cheered, fought and cheated;

      adrift in the hysteria of intramural sports,
         the losers wailed, the victors jubilated;


now dusty, it leans on a heap of rubbish,
   the Overall Champion trophy once golden,

      lost in the rubbles of the demolished gym,
         a relic of a youthful season long forgotten!

Pickled Scenery

A huge Alsatian barks at a passerby stranger
as the pond geese honk sensing grave danger
Trudges back home a rangy lone ranger.

Big and little aubergines cast a purple shade
In the twilight birdsong begins to fade
Night makes navy-blue of the greenery's jade.

Wolves howl in the distance
Panthers prowl near pig pens
Ocelots growl around the dens.

Dolphins perform in the aquatic circus
Kids count on the time-old abacus
All in all the miracle of creation's fabulous

Elsewhere the morn dawns upon wee ladybirds
And shepherds go about grazing their hungry herds.

A rare sight of starfishes settle upon beach pebbles
Pink salmon in a see-through lake breath out bubbles
Bombed by tech; corpses found in debris and rubbles!

Wild species lurk in the murky forest
Stands tall and hovering high mount Everest
A chance to enjoy nature at its very best! 

Admit it O' mankind no one can ever be
at par with your and my versatile Creator
The billions of species is far too extraordinary
He single-handedly created all that variety in nature.

For even the clever human who invented the radio
did not as well model the computer.
The one who designed my dresser couldn't design my patio
It'd be rare for a shoemaker to also be a tutor  

But God He made both ant and elephant
and there's absolutely nothing that He can't.

Premium Member Internal Humanity

Thinking, deciding, and cuddling all muddle flow.
I'm not a wiz; I solve, yet my riddles, I know
My thoughts and deeds, like an artists', are creative.
My reflecting and planning are liberative.
Should dews of hope be erased by beams of despair?
Should my compassion change as per seasonal air?

There are unconscious courses in my mind and soul.
Like webs that fuse each fleck and speck into a whole
Nightmares that slaughter peace within the inner shrine's core
Feeling that, like birds, above the skies of mind sore
Impulsive admiration of flimsy beauty
All this progress as though a soon-to-do duty

Love, happiness, forgiveness, compassion, and trust
Collide with loneliness, helplessness, and disgust
Self-awareness, like a breeze between tempests, struggles
Between beliefs and doubts, there are silent rubbles.
While sour dualities of good and bad exist
Isn't there, between each straight-seeming path, a twist?


Come Away With Me My Love

Come away with me into the night
Lets race each other through the moonlight,
Let’s leave the world so there's just us
All of our love, care and trust.
 
Heaven has brought you down to me
I know in my heart that we were meant to be,
Let’s leave this place and all its troubles
And we can build a new life from the rubbles.

I have your heart and you have mine
As long as we have each other there’s nothing on the line,
Let’s runaway together and never be apart!
I wanna be with you you’re always in my heart.

I love you so much it affects my soul!
Though we may age this feeling will never grow old
be my lover as well as my best friend
And lets create a love that will never end.

We'll hold each other when we shed tears
We'll share our hopes as well as our fears, 
Even when we fade and both of us has passed
Our love will live on and always last.

Ishmael Beah

My face tiled in rubbles
make my troubles visible,
result of my lamed fights,
became my life unfeasible.

Don't talk about my mojo,
if you don't like it,
it will chase you all the time,
if you don't stop it.

Child soldier Ishmael Beah,
who jumped to peace,
who let go the bullets,
to embrace world of man free.

Premium Member To You, Our Gift

Resplendent beauty always radiates from you inside and outside
Irresistible smiles shine on your face where everyone wants to ride
Tenaciously keep them with you, pervasive to where you reside and go
An epitome of shimmering ardor enthusing desolate hearts to aglow

Ventilating any threshold in all gardens of friendship
In your company, rubbles can be restored with equanimity
Rainbow blessings you are to me and to everybody
A priceless gift from God  that we forever thank Thee
You make others see His wonders through your compulsive journey




©2014 Leonora G.
10/18/2014 12.55pm



-just wanna share an old poem of mine
© Len Gasun  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Somewhere Down the Road

Somewhere down the road we pass
Under sun's heat, drops amass
Sweat and tears we blast
First kept then cast
Under the Moon's hex that was

Journey along the road we surpass
Under the bridge, jubilation of wrasse
Above our shoulders we carry the mass
Somewhere down the road we pass

Through the wide and crooked roads are crasse
Rubbles spewed by winds on stained glass
Up the road of heights is a watch glass
Down the road we seize grimes of brass
Then lie down on beds of hushed grass
Somewhere down the road we pass

Premium Member Merged In Surrender

MERGED IN SURRENDER


Kiss me quiet under the rain~   skips and pounds,
awash the tears and pain fevering my anguish,
with the July moon to stir my slothful frown,
wide-skirted trees swing demure on the breeze
their cyclic sops and bows-- a dancing clown.
Our hands clasp to spins and turns on that wet ground,
tango to loves groove, we are pleased to tease
as this emblaze our spirit and behold our strength.

The air touched by purple lilac blossoms caress--
it velvety flirt tickling our pact distress.
Our hungered bodies beseech on nightly bounds
in a ballroom beseem for loving grounds.
From lips tiptoeing on skin, so easy they appease,
to strokes flavoured by glows of summer reprise,
slow to fast moves  wings a-twitter heated degrees
as this emblaze our spirit and behold our strength.

Among the years where there's whispers that seize,
experience match our heartbeats on impermeable squeeze
and if tension snaps on daylight and nightfall sound
in search of essences where rubbles or debris abounds...
In the absence of solution, should we stop to care?
Ah! Let crisp leaves of autumn display our memories,
cherish the days when February sings Spring: our promise
as this emblaze our spirit and behold our strength.

Hearken thoughts and hearts merged in surrender,
the shaped images and forms impress the depths,
our love root a seed  echoing the song of forever
as this emblaze our spirit and behold our strength.
__________________________________________________


***The first three stanza didn't follow definite rhyme format but the rhymes are retained as much as possible on each stanza except the last one, the envoy is rhymed with. 

Sponsor	Catie Lindsey
Contest Name	Not Your Average Ballade 
Placed 7th...

O.E. Guillermo
9:53 pm. April 21, 2015

Premium Member Unquotable Quotes - Xiv

Unquotable quotes – XIV

Don’t trouble trouble until trouble gobbles you ; don’t 
     rubble rouble until rouble rubbles you.
Don’t marry a woman out of pity ; she’ll make you 
     regret her lack of fidelity for a ditty.
Don’t lose your temper with any old party member ; 
     they are all in league licking the leader’s member.
Don’t meddle with paddles if you have never rowed on 
     water ; it’s not the self-same action you practice with 
     your partner.
Don’t run to get insurance coverage when you’re 
     hanging from a ledge ; better wait for the dredger to 
     empty the valley of sludge. 
Don’t go to the cinema to rub or warm thighs and legs ; 
     what you’re watching is not what you see.
Don’t climb mountains only to be rescued in the public 
     eye ; there are other more subtle ways like making 
     naked love to appear on TV.
Don’t crack jokes to make others croak ; crack their 
     skulls open with a rebuke.
Don’t eat with your fingers noodles soup ; drink the 
     soup first, then slurp the noodles through fingers.
Don’t tease the neighbour’s daughter for lack of 
     laughter ; for all you know she may be Bob Hope’s 
     screen writer.
Don’t turn tables in a fight if you haven’t got the might, 
     unless you’re  John Wayne in a Western with a 
     broken hind stern.
Don’t squirm in bed dreaming of Clark Gable ; his teeth 
     kept great actresses crying out for a gargle.
Don’t swim against the current pretending to be Tarzan, 
     unless you have a Jane willing to put up with any 
     bane.
Don’t cry for help with a mere yelp.

© T. Wignesxan – Paris, 2016
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.

My Pen Will Tell the Tales

I'm  under the weather of 
raging ravenous ravens
feathers--vultures gliding
awaiting the corpses
of my bleeding thoughts,
and my wounded pen.

The carvings that furnished
the sanctuary my once empty 
thoughts, and whatever 
darken  
words written on the tablets 
of my heart won't be 
forsaken  
by my pen.
  
My pen will tell the tales of  
the moon-less night that 
buried 
me under rubbles of falling 
darkness 
after the walls of the shy 
shaken.

My pen will tell the tales of the 
tears that streams down the 
cannons my cheeks, to wash 
away 
the blood that's oozed from 
my 
Wrists, when I try to leak the 
aches that's aching.  

My pen will tell poignant tales
that will stain memories

The Waterfall

I see it through the mountain mist,
From craggy rock it springs its fall,
Its spray of whiteness reaching out
Cascading off a sandstone wall.

A lyrebird is calling out
Just heard above the constant sound,
Of water galloping over rock
And tumbling to the ground.

A hairy vine with lichen near
And green moss upon the stone,
Stands near to where the water falls
Into an aqueous zone.

A rock pool captures what is spent,
It spins and froths and bubbles,
A platypus is feeding near
Fossicking through the stony rubbles.

Tree ferns surround this rocky pool,
Their fronds umbrella like,
The beautiful red of waratahs
And grass trees with their spike.

The rhythmic sound continues,
A water pouring lullaby,
The wetness of the wilderness
From rocks so very high.

Premium Member Stardust

Glistening rubbles in the sky,
Huddling up and abound so high;
Precious jewels in my sight,
Touching you through dreams tonight.
Cosmos most wondrous beauty,
Artwork of God-Almighty.
Glistening rubbles in the sky,
Huddling up and abound so high.



July 13, 2013     5.45 pm.

Form: Octelle

by: Leonora Galinta

Sixth Place
Contest: Stardust In An Octelle
Judged: 7/14/13
Sponsor: Poet Nette Onclaud
© Len Gasun  Create an image from this poem.

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