I whisper like the burbles of the stream.
Though, in my interiors, there's a scream.
I have composed my song. Shouldn't I sing?
Between nodules of clouds of doubts I swing.
Aesthetics and passions amalgamate.
Love and warmth, like lake ripples, escalate.
Arduous desires break like waves of seas.
Could my peaceless soul ever feel at ease?
You're the soulful singer. You are the song.
I'm a song too. But do we flow along?
There's, between us, a common logarithm.
Should we not unite with nature's rhythm?
Categories:
burbles, life, nature, together,
Form: Rhyme
Ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and
freighted with the memories and the dreams of time.
—H.P. Lovecraft, The Best of H.P. Lovecraft:
Bloodcurdling Tales of Horror and the Macabre
His Overboard Tale
My captain bellows, “heave-ho.”
Off the plank I go, overboard.
I plunged into the night, entangled in
aberrant irises of the deep.
When my abject insanity rewinds,
I wish that I had swallowed the sea.
The kiss of salt and seaweed,
the wretch filled my lungs.
The Shes were more fish than maid
with huge hips and floundering tails.
The strange language of burbles,
their breasts made me gag…
Seahag hair, menacingly like Medusa’s.
I surmised sirens locks would actually bite.
My dreams capsized.
Why am I alive?
I’d rather that the chest be covered.
I shall never recover.
That’s why this landlubber
drinks and drinks, burbles.
At the end I was found on a rock.
I hit the rocks hard.
Swallow the water, lad.
Leave no room for desire.
Mermaids are a misnomer;
breaststroking in Bruichladdich proof.
Have a swim lad in this label
and stay far away from shore.
Categories:
burbles, fear, sea,
Form: Free verse
No words completely rhyme with orange:
no orange fringe, no orange hinge,
no lozenge, no syringe, no twinge, no whinge – no nothing!
No words completely rhyme with orange.
Porridge isn’t orange; but, there is an Orange Province.
An orange stoppage - should be red!
Incorrigible orange!
The rhymes I’ve tried are negligible, barely sensible.
Horrid orange!
Purple is no better.
There are purple turtles, slurping, burping,
and purple pebbles, purple burbles:
all sorts of purply, chirpy, twerpy sounds,
but, no words rhyme with purple.
Silver is another colour which hasn’t got a twinning brother.
There are silver rivers, silver shivers, silver slivers, silver sisters;
but, there are no silver dilver milver pilvers,
and if there were, they’d smell like fish.
I actually prefer the almost-chimes of assonance,
the vowels that that twine with consonants,
without the over-confidence of lar-dee-dar-dee rhymes.
Categories:
burbles, words,
Form: Rhyme
rain-splattered waters
burbles in rising river ~
beaver trims rudder
Categories:
burbles, animal, rain, river,
Form: Haiku
like burbles of waterfalls and ripples of lakes --- music marvelous
Categories:
burbles, heart,
Form: Monoku
Your sigh indicates as though you are tired, sad, and worn out,
Yet, how lovely is your song, dear breeze, how melodious!
Flowing, with scent, from a source unknown to an unknown route,
You make paradise this world vast wide and commodious...!
An amalgamation of Piano, guitar, and flute,
Your silent song, like the gushing of waterfall burbles,
In-depth music of saxophone, violin, harp, and lute,
Blends and mingles and dribbles with medicinal herbals...!
Bathing in ponds and rivers and lakes and oceans and seas,
How immaculate is your breath that gives us existence;
Kissing, on your way, the little animals, birds, and bees,
How divinely you have blessed each one with persistence...!
How caressing is your gentle, tender, and soft air stream!
To flow with you and merge with the universe is my dream...!!!
Categories:
burbles, nature, wind,
Form: Sonnet
the gurgling of the stream - pause and listen to its waters
a river flowing
smoothing over every stone
with a timeless care
The stream quietly burbles,
Os and Ls and other verbals.
Swishing along on its way,
Carrying fish in its vocal play.
5/29/23
Categories:
burbles, nature,
Form: Other
Sleepy,
Weepy,
Sweetie,
Cutie,
Babe drools.
It crawls,
On floor,
On four.
Burbles,
Gabbles,
Wets bed,
Cute bud!
Guileless,
Artless,
Chuckles,
Giggles,
Grows up.
Sits up.
Child walks.
Child runs.
Climbs up.
Falls down.
Naughty,
Haughty,
Spoiled brat!
Moppet!
Mom’s joy!
Dad’s toy!
God’s gift
World’s light!
________________
August.2.2022
~ Placed Tenth~
Brian Strand Premiere Choice Poetry Contest
Categories:
burbles, child, cute love, father,
Form: Footle
When I recall the tenebrous, gruesome shadows
Shrouding our lives conjuring deaths and sorrows,
In my vantage-point, I envision a massive bridge
Standing there resolutely over turbulent waters
Beckoning me avidly to cross over to tomorrow
Promising the other side is now within my reach
And travails of the yore will soon be behind me.
Yet, I feel fear gripped in jaws of deadly throes
And sense saddened tears fretting abyss of woes
So I summon courage, spurring resolve to cope,
Drawing assurances in embrace of my beloved
Entrusting-- in despair too-- grow seeds of hope
Believing in the promise of scientists, medicines,
And heroes who sacrifice in service of humanity.
Beyond that bridge are the pristine green prairies
Cheerfully inviting me to joy of winsome spring
Where glee of vibrant season burbles in streams
Washing away remnants of yesteryears’ misery
Frozen in gelid winters when lives were stilled,
As I continue trekking to dreams of my dawning
Aiming to arrive there clasping strength of family.
April 8, 2022
Categories:
burbles, inspirational, life,
Form: Verse
Oars slap water,
a heron
watching, fishing, being still as
stone.
An early sun
crashing through the mist
intent on warming eggs.
Oars sweep a clunky-swoosh,
white wake burbles.
Row slow
By the time the kitchen is reached,
It will be minutes before breakfast,
there will be bacon.
Oars slap water,
gently, ever so gently.
Categories:
burbles, poetry,
Form: Free verse
sitting on the edge
hanging limbs
brushing tremors on its skin
burbles as it tips on moss on stone
mouth washed mini waterfalls
sunlight slips from crest to trough
toe tipping tiny tsunami's
snapping branches
ships with leaf sails
sails and leaves
Categories:
burbles, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Divin' Deep down there's guttural
gurgles and burbles
Jivin' in the respirator.
I dive deeper, still deeper
than I've ever been before.
The seabed is littered
with littoral lie-there's
just layin' about,
praying to be picked up
by some swim-on-buy kid like me.
It's a jalopy junk yard down there.
Old shells long discarded by hermit crabs
looking for joyrides in new digs
and sporty convertible squats in RV's.
Shells discarded are great do-uppers
for crabs putting on weight.
No one is homeless down here,
for all shells discarded,
are reborn to after-lives
decreed indeed by need
in Davy Jones' Locker.
Categories:
burbles, ocean, word play,
Form: Free verse
I once ate a secret, secret inside
That fester'd and sank deep into my core
Blackened and rotted, my gut it fried
Prodding my conscience, I just can’t ignore
Suddenly I am the worst of sinners
A secret! A secret! Inwards it screams
Burbles and boils and scalds my innards
A secret! A secret! From shame it streams-
The pressure doubled, despite my pleas
My flesh bloated with effort but alas!
Against my will, it retch’d upwards seize!
Burst forth from my lips, escaped en masse
Empty I feel, stain’d still and tainted
Mouth sick; regret bleeds dry; then- I fainted.
Categories:
burbles, deep,
Form: Sonnet
Does time go faster
when one feels happy
and forgets all worries
that pound the brain daily
noticing that who despairs
makes life bitter, not mellower?
Ponder on these words wisely,
choose a direction with clarity,
step down from the pedestal
of deception and surprise them all!
Does time go faster
gazing and not staring longer
at the hopeless faces
one meets and wishes not to say
hello to share their gullibility?
Watch the steady flow of brooks,
their water burbles through rocks,
we should imitate them and learn:
whoever avoids hurdles is bound to burn.
Categories:
burbles, appreciation, confidence, endurance, life,
Form: Rhyme
My mind is a dreamy river,
that flows untiring - smooth and rapid,
murmuring the words it adores,
the burbles of its ponderings.
Date: 11/30/2020
Submitted for: Liberum Divisa 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Gregory R. Barden
Contest Judged: Placed fifth in Premier Contest
Original Poem: 'Murmurs' dated 11/27/2020
Categories:
burbles, metaphor,
Form: Free verse
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