Best Rumpus Poems
ENOUGH WITH YOUR
IRRITATING RUMPUS
PANDEMONIUM GBUDU
GBANG!
ARE YOU THE ONLY ONE HERE?
"I AM MY ME"...AND SO WHAT?
ARE YOU THE FIRST OR THE
LAST,
TO HAVE ACHIEVED THAT
FEAT?
THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE AND
ABLE?
IF YOU CARE....
JOB DIED WHILE APPLE,
FRESH.
OOOOH GBUDU GBANG WHY?
WHEN WILL ALL THIS
COMMOTION STOP?
THE LASS WAS A TODDLER
WHEN YOU ENCOUNTERED
ANAANU
AND STILL HARK BACK
HULLABALOO.
DID WE NOT HAIL YOU WHEN
YOU OUTWITTED THE
OUTWITTER?
WHEN YOU UNWOVEN
ANANSE'S BYZANTINE WEB
AND UNDID HIS MYSTICAL
LOOMS, DID WE NOT PRAISE
YOUR WIT?
SO WHY THE HARK BACK
HULLABALOO?
I TELL YOU,WE ARE NOT TIRED
OF YOUR EXPLOITS
BUT OF THEIR STALE
CELEBRATIONS.
IF ONLY I COULD GET YOU
ENOUGH WATER TO SWALLOW
TO FILL THE NOISY THIRSTY
EMPTINESS OF UR LUMEN
THEN WE COULD HEAR THE
SWALLOW'S CHIRP.
FOR HE TOO I KNOW,HAS A
GREAT STORY TO TELL.
AND WHO KNOWS?
THE FEATHERED FELLOW
MIGHT PUT A FEATHER IN
YOUR CAP.
GBUDU GBANG!!!
Categories:
rumpus, people
Form:
Free verse
'Twas an ominous moment when rode into town
To its marshal defy and outdraw and gun down
A notorious, murderous varmint named Slade
Who had widows and orphans throughout the west made.
The next morning, as destined, they met on the street
To for title of gunfighter finest compete.
Marshal Matson, with duty to outlaw arrest,
Versus Slade, risking life in the ultimate test.
At a distance the townspeople gathered to see
The historical challenge that thrilling should be.
Two tall figures unconquered and stoic and brave,
With the loser interred in a premature grave.
Foes whose shadowy faces beneath Stetson brim
Wore expressions determined, ferocious, and grim.
Hands were poised over holsters attached to their thighs,
Jaws were set, hands were steady, and angry were eyes.
Doomed to sprawl in the dust would be gunslinger slain,
While the victor would toasted and honored remain.
Marking one more rash braggart whose lifetime is done
Would be notch newly carved in his pearl-handled gun.
No one knows who drew first for the blur was too fast.
Barrels blazed in a loud, simultaneous blast.
Then a second and third and again and again
Until chambers were empty, but still stood two men.
Errant bullets great havoc had caused all around.
Precious water was gushing from tower through holes.
An unfortunate, low-flying buzzard was downed,
Signs were dangling from hinges, and riddled were poles.
From the crowd that was watching arose a great roar,
But of laughter, not cheering as always before.
The combatants, embarrassed and hanging their heads,
Scurried back to concealment in brothel room beds.
All night long drunken witnesses filled the saloons
To guffaw, raise a rumpus, and target spittoons.
While on opposite ends of the town slinked away
Into darkness two shadows disgraced on that day.
So astoundingly awful and wayward was aim
That the pair's reputations were never the same.
Butts of jokes the names Matson and Slade have since been.
Still remembered for showdown that neither could win.
Categories:
rumpus, adventure, history, humor, parody,
Form:
Quatrain
Miss Muffet was a girl of thirteen, filled with youth's beauty and charm;
And a love of vibrant life zealous, like eager, vivid thunder of blue alarm.
She was a fine student, pert and popular; like the primrose popularity;
Or stars appearing at the designated hour, sparkling like crystal clarity.
Mary Muffet lived in a small town, with loving parents and her siblings,
Who sympathized with her fear of spiders; like colorful, fall misgivings.
Friends flanked their white picket fence, in fall days of glamour, striking;
And wove fanciful tales with flourish, like flowering genesis, so enticing!
Far off family ofttimes visited Fernglen, with its farms, rich with future;
For fishing and other rollicking fun, staying on 'til varicolored, fall rumor.
They lived in the house of quaint beauty, like charming red, berry sun;
Fondly gazing on pearly moon twice daily, the ritual begun on day one.
Songs sunrise to sunset serenaded, on dappled, silent, Sowerby Street;
But, a scorching summer bled scarlet roses, at the red butterfly retreat.
Near neighbors stayed on a first name basis, in unending, plum seasons;
Of days and nights of green nature; like teal surf, which never weakens.
Summer's glory was in the tiny details, like prayer plants, giving praise;
When sun face orchids, wore sunny smiles, in colored fields of noon haze.
And jade baby toes plants were crawling, through hours of soon history;
In honey days of bicolored hibiscus, filled with heady scents of mystery.
Mary attended a church celebration one day, along with her whole family;
And food was served indoors and out, as pink robin sang of gold, happily.
Mary had such fun playing games! There was much laughter and talking.
Then Mary had a craving for cheese, so like shadows, inside went walking.
Once inside, 'Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet, eating her curds and whey;
There came a big spider, who sat down beside her, And frightened Miss Muffet away.'
As Mary screamed and ran, causing a rumpus, she drew a lot of attention;
But, was suddenly embarrassed by her overreaction, like fall's suspension.
Little Miss Muffet was thence more mature, a natural result of getting older,
And fear of spiders was left behind, like summer blossoming, grown bolder.
Categories:
rumpus, beautiful, celebration, fantasy, fear,
Form:
Couplet
All night unto dawn
a gentle sadness
a comforting...
there is a dreaming rain falling
it is younger than morning mist
it is the first and last teardrop
as the world recalls its ancient roots.
I rest in the backwash of my own ebbing waves.
My breath cleansed in the light-stepping rain.
Distantly I hear soccer moms backing-out of driveways,
the last moment rumpus of heel-dragging kids.
I listen as a mail van trundles-by,
hear it pushing messages into gawping spaces.
Trains merge with geese
in long slipstreams of sound.
Plants fold fronds and leaflets
while dripping blooms bathe.
All is well, all unspoiled.
The world is a child again.
It rains gently now within.
Categories:
rumpus, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
A land once lush and green,
Virile and fertile,
Fattened reserves from dignified labour,
Then the discovery,
Greed rears its grotesque head,
In its entourage,
Nepotism, marginalisation, bribery and corruption,
A deprived populace in lack of leadership,
Restive youth clamouring for direction,
Rumpus instigated by mortification,
Balls of fire rage day and night,
Illuminating the sky,
Ripping holes in the stratosphere,
Rain clouds brood in eagerness,
To drench the land with acid,
Sun blazing with vehemence,
Scorching all life,
Floating carcasses in blackened rivers,
Sullied soil rendering no harvest,
In decimation lie the herds of the field,
Mother nature drowned,
In her own bodily fluids,
Life turns to death,
Lush and green becomes dust and ash,
Peace and tranquillity evades,
In its stead,
Ruckus and chagrin,
Swollen earth,
Sated by the blood of innocents
Categories:
rumpus, africa, corruption,
Form:
Prose Poetry
A HIGH SCHOOL STORY
eyes slurred dews cherry
kisses and masturbations
a high school story
10 December, 2014
A HIGH SCHOOL STORY (revisited)
They are exchanging cherry dews
Summer steps in the campus
Kisses float in the balmy air
Students join the rumpus
The school has started the session
Say no to masturbation
If passions fill your mind
Be patient lovely and kind
You may enjoy morning glory
This is my high school story
8th Mach, 2015
>> It is not a moral lesson .It is poetry and should be viewed as such
The Makeover - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Roy Jerden
Categories:
rumpus, school,
Form:
Rhyme
Tongue twister line:
From the rustic rover to Samuel Sanders, they try to tickle the tongue with tricky tongue twisters.
1. A rustic rover round the ricks ran restlessly, and restive, he rushed to the nearby rural rill to reinvigorate himself. Then whoever he met, he ranted and raved with him or her with reckless arrogance. Revivified and rejuvenated, the vagrant straggler across the riverbank rumbled and rumbled , and trounced a regal recluse that triggered a fiery ruction. Then another rowdy ragamuffin slapped him hard and a furious rabble raised an unprecedented rumpus.
2. Samuel Sanders, a saucy salesman with sable brow, had an ancestral house in Sussex, but since he was a man of gypsy psyche, of late he strayed into Surrey and settled there for squarely six months, and then set out to straggle across the Sicilian seashore seeking psychological solace in the serene and suave sound of the seawaves.
3. You can't put a better bit of butter on your platter because a martyr did shatter the packet of your butter as it did welter in the gutter, but that waiter did cater you this later, muttering about an utter butter-hater from Gloucester with bitter hauteur.
19th November, 2016
Categories:
rumpus, fantasy,
Form:
Alliteration
Running came the tiny ants
Helter skelter they run about
With shiver and quick heart beats
Accompanied by fear
As the pair of soles were fast landing without decorum
The Hearts calling out to their Creator
As the mice pounced on the cheese
With such great enthusiasm and excitement feasting on it
Sweetness of the cheese suddenly snatched
Bitterness gracefully planted
A Jewel pleasantly rusted
A Crown jealously smashed
A Treasure mercilessly stolen
A Home burnt into a house
A Red Apple tree uprooted and planted a Fig tree
Bitterness instilled, Love eradicated
White soaked in deep red
Yellow soaked in black
Green soaked in red
Peace and Order stolen; rumpus invented
The Clouds form
The rain drops
The elephant trumpets
The crowd arrives
Why, Why,Why?, they ask
The foxes disguise happiness
The wolves disguise joy
The dolves mourn
The vultures gossip
Chip,chip,chip, the beaks move
Peace is altered
Joy is buried
Love is crucified
Sorrow is ignited
The Harmattan winds have arrived.
Categories:
rumpus, paris, sorrow,
Form:
Lyric
It’s not just bricks and mortar
Nor a distant memory
But the ground roots of our livelihood
And our future destiny.
As this place prepares to close
When the final bell will sound
To mark the end of education
On these few acres of ground
So as the winds of change
Whistle down St Andrews Street
Time to take a look behind
Before it beats the last retreat....
To days when health and safety
Had not bound us up in rules
When “clackers”, “chinas”, “conkers”
Were all the rage in schools.
Chocolate crunch with strawberry custard
Was “ haute cuisine” at dinners
And monitors patrolled the room
Catching non-veg eating sinners !
Then there were school productions
That often caused a rumpus
I was told I didn’t look fierce enough
As a pirate in Columbus
It’s where I learnt the facts of life
Red faced at every showing
We gathered in the dining hall
To watch “living and growing”.
Girls in groups around the field
Playing games with white elastic
Or spinning tubes around their heads
Making noises quite fantastic
And on those heady summer days
In the shade of orchard trees,
I’d have my packed lunch and my drink
Smelling hops upon the breeze.
Groups of boys in mass migration,
Was quite a common sight ,
Swarming like bees round honey
To the battle cry of “fight!”
“Top cat” was on the telly
And so was “ Hong Kong Fooey”
We all brought board games into school
On the feast day of St Louis
Queuing up in tennis courts
Then marching to assembly,
I doubt they had such crowd control
For the FA cup at Wembley.
The changing rooms down by the pool
Were not far from the gym,
Where ropes and box and benches
Were designed to do you in.
Bassets sherbet from the tuck shop
A treat beyond belief
Matched only by the popping
Of “space rocks” on your teeth
So when the corridors are empty
And the babbling voices still,
Theses echoes and these memories
Shall future musings fill .....
For it’s not just bricks and mortar
Not just a place to swat and cram
It’s where the building blocks of selfhood
Turn the boy into a man.
Categories:
rumpus, childhood, education, leaving, middle
Form:
Rhyme
So you want this so bad?
Incorrigible lad
Your excesses will come back to haunt you,
But we may do a deal
Under this seal
Unless common sense doth daunt you.
Should push come to shunt
You’ll bear the brunt
Of an outlying cost that may shock you,
A bribe? You dare say
And ask me a game to play
For which the police will surely up-lock you.
Me too? Oh joke on,
You son of a swan,
They’ll never catch me this millennium
For my name is quite clean
By all I am seen
As the pillar upholding nobelium.
My bribe price, you ask?
I’ll take you to task
For using a term disrespectful
I’ll write it down here
… stop looking so *****
Or I’ll change my tone to neglectful.
When I’m gone on my way
You can see my say,
The paper is here ‘neath my placemat
And if you agree
My lawyer you’ll see
To comply you’ll be sporting a lace hat.
He'll sort you out,
You son of a trout
And see that we both get our wish met
But don't try to pump us
Or he'll cause such a rumpus
That you'll want soon to face your Kismet.
So farewell for now
Oh son of a cow
We’ll not see each other again
For I’m off to travel
And mysteries unravel
Along the Brazilian main.
Categories:
rumpus, fun, relationship, silly,
Form:
Rhyme
The Descent
Nature lovers enthralled by forest’s pine green canopies
Leading headway onto hallowed
Golden earthen pathways to the ancient underground playground
The hikers create a silver echo of their own (Hello, hello)
They tread carefully, dropping down
One by one, each party fastened to the other
Reliantly dropping altitude together
Lowering themselves into the tumultuous grey black void
Nearing the enticing smell of fresh white rain
Caught by gargantuan cavernous red-veined leaves
Vermilion chameleons’ frolic splashing in delightful refreshment
On a spiraling ledge on the side of the divine hole
A broader plateau oozing with a strange moldy scent
Lends itself for the hikers to hydrate and rest
As they enjoy the fabled delicacy of the blue black berries
Bursting with the juicy rainbow of sweetness that had sustained prior Adventure seekers
At last, their hundreds of feet downward trek
Has brought them to the hidden nook they had sought and few have accessed
Radiant teal moss covered the open space completely
Like a luxurious royal wall to wall cushy rumpus room carpet
Created by the obstruction of the fiery, orange, yellow, red, power of sunlight
Oh Wondrous nature!
Sunshine Williams
Categories:
rumpus, adventure, appreciation, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Death dies herself and does not damage
Those who advance ahead underailed,
Following the prints of the wise pioneers
Whom He imparts the secrets of wisdom.
At downward dive heart beats thumpingly,
And aches as one feels on an oscillating swing
With long ropes when moves to and fro
Between two extremes with hissing moves,
Fearing lest one should crash to fragments.
I landed upon the world underworld,
Before the sunrise, in the moment of morn,
And roved about the too simple mosque
With open lawn and low boundary walls.
Entering through the gateless entrance,
I sat on the ground, gazed at the outer setting.
A slight afar flowed and winding river,
The lush green bushes stooped along,
The banks and brims of the serpentine track.
One by one then entered natives of the land,
Taking seats they sat in the rows straight
On the unwrapped mats made of palm leaves,
They all gathered for the prayers of morn,
And sat I in the end as my merit allowed.
Then one prominent, in the dress simple,
With a piece of white cloth wrapped around
His head, neither tall nor short,
With round sanguine face and grizzled beard
Of moderate length,
Abased in front of all to lead the prayers.
Recitation of verses imbued the heart,
With serene pure pleasure.
Then hands were raised for more blessings,
Before the crowed dispersed, a man squatted left,
Told me the name and place the Imam belonged to,
“Departed He centuries ago yet is known well,
A winding river flows beside His shrine,
Though often it surges to the brims spilling,
Yet causes no rumpus, passes in serene hush.”
A desire then emerged to esteem the adorable,
By kissing the feet of reverend dervish,
But declined He the act of caressing the feet.
Categories:
rumpus, dedication, faith, mystery, space,
Form:
Blank verse
All night unto dawn, a gentle sadness,
a comforting...
a dreaming rain falling,
as the world recalls its ancient roots.
I listen to soccer moms backing-out of driveways,
the last moment rumpus of heel-dragging kids.
The mail van trundles-by,
sparrows bathe in warm puddles.
Trains merge with geese
in long slipstreams of sound.
All is well, all newly
washed
the world a child again.
Categories:
rumpus, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
A boisterous sheet of morning-fresh water
tumbled,
discharging tumult of noisy explosion down
rockface
while torrents of catapult-rainbows caught
sunshine
from the top of the towering fern-crowned
mountain,
splintering light as holding straight course
chute met
huge implosion that quelled further sound.
Breaking surface cataract rumpus lay quiet,
flat-plate
calm of limpid sun-filtered lake breathed
a peace
when swam a vision from black rocky side
head high
and gliding, mouth filled with green weed.
Silent he floated then dipping began furry
antics
of random, wild-eyed, free diving display,
slipping
occasional glances my way, fear reverted
and threat
forgot in gleeful cascades of Otter elation.
Soon distanced to a shimmering wet dot
contact
with one untameable Otter in his haven
sporting
under falling water for me, I never forgot.
Categories:
rumpus, water, word play,
Form:
Light Verse
Lemon tinted phase
gilded skyline blown
by ethereal fused mist
eager bard imbued
opal dream flotilla
beyond tarnish while
flash point chariots
of gleam-well canvass
astir or astern perforce
taunt a hued vase
porcelain image fest
for staunch earthbound
soul’s cry parched
stricken migrant famish
sapphire plume ray
bounty veridical
pink chalk sketch
granule blush pots
pearl beam spur
to jumpy pilgrim
grey elephant garb
drifter’s lull prone
metre of skewed
and barren glib
dull tossed aside
rambles and brambles
from cerebral quartz
beige quirky quill
nose twitch petrichor
glacé smelt rain
lava veined fillip
fervent fetal floe
ignited indigo inkling
as noonday nuanced
glance en dash
away from orange
peel cloud skies
toward spring rush
urban junction fare
as founding cue
for zeitgeist driven
western world eden
brick red hydrants
fricative wet spray
dousing hoarse busker
charged by crazy
pavement stamp
stoic poet in situ
tumult, hubbub,
rumpus heightened
by brazen banter
silver coin wobble
on carrageen rim
of oyster pebbled
pool a mecca
for stanza stymied
lingerer who scouts
eclectic threshold
born of cumbersome
blight on ingenuity
Categories:
rumpus, beautiful, beauty, character, city,
Form:
Free verse