Best Rumbling Poems
I am lost somewhere in your light blue eyes
Thoughts of you rumble, to wake up my mind
My dreams have now lifted up to the skies
I can sense where you are, seeking to find
An understanding that’s one of a kind
Thoughts of you rumble to wake up my mind
In faith you’re letting gratitude unwind
It’s your time for a new beginning now
An understanding that’s one of a kind
I hope I can give you something more now
For there is so much you have done for me
It’s your time for a new beginning now
I hope it is a smile that I see
From a thank you that’s deep within my heart
For there is so much you have done for me
It’s ok to welcome a good, new start
I am lost somewhere in your light blue eyes
My thank you is from deep within my heart
My dreams have now lifted up to the skies
Heidi Sands
2/7/21
I can taste the rain, smell the rain,
Feel it in the air
But it isn't falling yet
Holding back, playing fair
Just the dampness,
Stirring with gray clouds
Until it's enough to storm
A sky will bellow loud
Nature yells in ways
What is it trying to say?
I can taste the rain
Before it speaks its rumbling ways
Heidi Sands
7/1/19
Jan, Mystic and Casarah
Been letting it rip
The smell woke the poor dog
From his afternoon kip
Looking very guilty he smelt his bott
Looked at me as much to say
Wasn't me dropped that lot
Must have been you, smell won't go away
I blamed the drains looking as innocent as I could
Was those fresh plums from Cosco I ate too many
Better stay near the bathroom I think I should.
Cos I got many farts rumbling in my tummy
The continuous story of Mystics Fart
Rise high you tumbling bricks!
Consider exchanging
your scared squawks
for a few more plummeting
security stocks
City beware
of stealthy schemes
while chasing virtual creatures
in your local county park
for free
You never know
in "reality"
when truth might pierce
chilly hearts
once crocked eyes clear
Seeking top credit card scores...
dreading next month's
bank notices
Why not use them
to cleanse your
glossy green
Caddy coupe?
Swallow some pills for those annual chills
Dismiss being still as you strain in vain
while attempting to claim
faux success
Common sense...
Where has it flown?
Will it soar North again?
Mysterious rumbling noises, I hear them
Wherever I am, I cannot escape the sound
Somewhat like zombies singing an old hymn
Or a loaded barge about to run aground.
Occasionally they will go away for a season
Then, just as suddenly, they will reappear
There seems to be neither rhyme nor reason
A friend suggested I’ve had too much beer
I laugh and refrain from disputing them, but
That can’t be the reason, since I don’t imbibe,
It appears these noises emanate from my gut
At least, as best I can, that’s how I’d describe.
A doctor will put a lantern down my throat
And, technically, take a good look around
So I suppose I’ll have to wait for his vote
As to the origins of this mysterious sound.
Written June 17, 2022
thunder strikes between
orange and baby blue clouds
in the cloudy night
5-29-2016
RUMBLING ROADS.
I can spend time scribbling words
Already written in 1000 note books
I could watch intently those that already HAVE
And try to get what they have achieved
I could do well too, if I pretend that I'm alone
And live on, on my own different path, I may as well think of: FATE
That fate itself doesn't exist nor does destiny
I may read over and try to feel everything
Or I may read and try not to understand a thing.
I may take it that I understand the logic in ignorance
Or believe that it is the greatest bliss of all
I would believe what have always been within
Would I trust my instincts or disbelieve trust itself?
II
Where I come from, I'm certain of
Where my so-called wisdom leads is a mystery
I can wallow in this knowledge and be complacent
Do autopsies of my self-made philosophy
And stick lead-notes on boards of rusted cliches
I could be Jubilant and celebrate my acknowledgements,
I could try to understand how my wits work
File reports on my findings and make an archive;
For the forthcoming generation to tear at my woe-
perhaps the mystery will fade,
Perhaps it's existence will never be fathomed
And I'll be sure then that this wisdom is far-fetched
Questions; I could stop asking lots of questions too.
III
Answers, they are always there
Way-laying in the paths of questions, doubt and sweat
In the tongues of pain and fiery bitter-sweet
In the crunching stones rolled on by rumbling tires
Truth; answers are in the truth that the road sires
Always there for you to step on and wonder
For you to spit on and cross over
Answers are on the clean surface of city tarmacs
In wreckage scenes of uncleared accident tracks
In the blood seeping grounds of roads of gravel
Answers are in your shoes as you trudge on
Into the unsatisfying world of demanding enlightenment
Into the future that beckons you to step forwards
Answers are in the dust you make along the rumbling roads.
-Lucas-
It's always there.
And it would speak with eloquence
if I would simply stand aside--
out of the way of anything
besides my clamorous self...
that much beloved (and hated) fellow
who cannot seem to recognize
priorities.
It seems to have some consciousness,
and works its way into my dreams
sometimes, when I am indolent.
And then it briefly has a voice,
stimulates my curiosity,
and may inspire a poem
or a thought to nag at me,
particularly when another soul
is at my side to listen.
Ah, but then it tends to dwindle,
fade and disappear.
No, the buck stops here
and it is mine alone.
Mine to give the care it needs,
and mine to carry
into war, and peace, and consequence.
Mine to rumble with,
and mine even to celebrate--
then,
and now,
and to my own demise--
perhaps beyond for all I know.
I hear it, feel it,
love it helplessly.
Now pardon me, for I must spend
a little time to know it
better still.
~
DARK RUMBLING WAR CLOUDS
When yellow daffodils
and Unicorns come out to play-
there shall I choose to stay !
Where Fox and Rabbit are known as kin
and the word Enemy is long forgotten-
there shall I choose to stay.
Soon as Dark Rumbling War Clouds,
shatter in a bright Spring haze-
then shall I choose to stay.
For I am Harmony,
gentle and serene-
a mortal essence, not known to stay !
Roller skates
Roll smooth
In circles and orbited figure eights
Gliding great with the rhythmic moves
So quick
So slow
So cool
Ice skate
Aerodynamically
On icy floors slick and wet
A ballet on a frozen slough
Beautiful blades
Upon delicate
Crystal blue
Rumbling wheels
Radioactively
Alive with pumping legs that reel
Forcing friction like a mad banshee
Athletically willed
Heart rate
Speed kills
January 15, 2020
Double Dactyl Poetry Contest
Sponsored by William Kekaula
The ground will shake, and it will rumble
volcanos erupt on either side and we look up to all the ash
Little feet trying to keep pace behind you
their big eyes crying
where will you go now
where will we go now
where will I go
they ask you mama, where's daddy, where's brother
waves as tall as buildings and house’s crumble into clay
we were all warned but yet we ignored
we were meant to gather supplies and keep our families safe
we have failed and find ourselves lost
scientists said this would be bad
we never thought it true
but now that it's happened we wished the day would start a new
COOL RUMBLING THUNDER
today I am…
cool rumbling thunder
behind me are eyes
looking back through
yesterdays hazy
ancient history of
memories left
out in the rain
today I am…
purifying daring
dreams into morning
coffee carefully weaving
tomorrows nets
to arrest hearts
brewing them slowly
forever more
today I am…
cool rumbling thunder
culling night time terrors
cherishing fabled mercies
as reality scuttles
shyly away under
sinking beds like a
sidelong glance
then stares….
aware of the fear in
dark rumbling thunder
© Kim van Breda—4 July 2015
Hissing cars
Swishing trucks
Rumbling bikes
Life is a highway
Really?
Combusting cylinders
Pumping pistons
Turning crankshaft
Spinning flywheel
Engaging transmission
Motoring drive
Tranferring power
Rolling tires
Hissing
Swishing
Rumbling
Crash and burn
Life goes on
glistening, gently tumbling
washing hearts pure, humbling
resounding lights, mumbling
glitter alive, flakes fumbling
snow glowing bright, as I’m stumbling
through the wonderful, grumbling
so each flake sails, escapes – bumbling
glistening, gently tumbling…
on the edge of the winter’s rumbling
Rumblings in the night
I was trying to write the words on the screen turned
into spatter of blood, darkness descended
A woollen mass pressing me down, I screamed
Of fear and my brother came and laid beside me.
A young woman. who had been thrown out of her?
Uncle’s house came with a tray of bacon & eggs
I grabbed a piece of bacon, but the woman said
It was not for me but my brother because
He had been dead for many years and therefore
Must be hungry.
I went into a Chinese restaurant where the owner
Shouted “table for one” I don’t want a table like
To see the men” no need he said it is all the same
With different sauces “Table for one!”
I couldn’t find my way out; there were many doors
leading into coolers where cooks had committed
Suicide in memory of Anthony Bourdon.
Finally, I found a door out the led me to freedom
Where nature was unworldly and my brother
Said: did you know if you are on a spacecraft and
Pass all the planets behind you. The emptiness
Will turn into a purple fog and before you know it
Will you be back to your living room?
Table for one, the owner of the Chinese shouted.