So like a horizon that bests the night with graying elder clouds strewn about the play but ear the cornrows for brustling sounds sound it out, the daylit crown, but sun peaks through this marble sour it is not, it peaks with willows that shelter vapid clamoring suits that strut the stomping grounds but in the sky it is, the cloudy day marble a truth has been.
I don’t have time for this
These words
These endless words
Idle commuters
Waiting….impatiently
On the subway platform
Jostling for position
Hoping to get a seat
A gazing flash of light
These words
This compilation of compulsion’s creativity
Clamoring crazily
Challenging the implication
Of meter’s maniacal manipulations
Dancing on the head of a pen
Yet, I must choose
While listening to the chorus of
Pick me…pick me
And still … I listen to them
Weighing the worthiness of their weight
Knowing that they know their place
If I will but loosen my grasp
On the instrument
of our freedom
I have strawberry hope and dandelion love.
Sand, whimsy, and other bouncing stuff.
Drooping, sagging, begrudging down my long sleeve shirt.
This smile doesn’t work anymore.
Patience.
Except, she threw a tarp over me.
This smile is like an ant clamoring.
Or faceless scarf around me.
This smile doesn’t affect the grass growing too tall.
It’s easy to offer help to someone who fell into a puddle.
Inside my face.
Is a larger skeleton as radioactive dust.
This smile doesn’t work anymore.
Like sandpaper to a seashell.
Looks at me sailing toward the first planet I can find.
Hurl the applecart
of crimson corruption
deep into a vortex
that whirs remorseless
and grinds to carbon
the bellowing chaos
spewed by mortals
voracious for victims.
Dread not the tremors
and tumult of wraiths
clamoring with poison fangs
to devour the light.
Hey, never mind the hundred thousand folks
you'd have to keep for decades in the dark -
the sub-contractors, cleaners, office clerks.
Hey, never mind the billions such a hoax
would cost (to really go there works out cheaper!)
Don't give a thought to scammers, media whores,
and all those earnest, honest whistle-blowers,
who gagged to play heroic brother's-keepers
and get on Charlie Rose. Don't tax your wits
by wondering how a monumental lie
could hope to last, or even wonder why
someone would want to try it. Think of this.
In early summer, nineteen sixty-nine,
the Soviet Union hated Uncle Sam.
If there had been a smidgeon of a scam,
the Russians would have formed a clamoring line
of hackers, trackers, eggheads and the rest
to tell the waiting world, "it isn't so!
Our satellites confirm, they didn't go!"
But they said nothing. There's your acid test.
This droll dance I’ve got to teach you,
all you ghosts line up start chanting!
A tight move to the right twisting,
twirling with your partner shout ‘Boo!’
Shut down that dramatic boohoo,
get them all up start clamoring!
This droll dance I’ve got to teach you,
all you ghosts line up start chanting!
It could be their nightmare come true
still they’ll feel the beat’s enchanting.
Let’s go! Ramp it up! Big haunting!
Falsetto shrieks grow and cut through,
this droll dance I’ve got to teach you.
Music is a little piece of foil at the bottom of the oven.
Got torn off and burnt.
Cooking things like fish and vegetables.
Music is like a tray of food.
A tray of toast and a napkin too.
Is good enough to chew.
Music is a tasty numbness.
Yummy asparagus, and clam chowder.
Clamoring and smiling.
Music is a messy tray with crumbs and spills.
Music is whatever is making me crave chocolate.
Music is a spell that makes me feel like an apple with a bite in it.
Music is having a buffet of indiscernible sludge.
It’s all delicious.
Messy, crumbs, and falling apart biscuits.
Maybe I’m just hungry sometimes.
Music.
Last night’s casserole.
We don’t know much about these things.
But sometimes they taste nice.
grating sky noises
elongated screechy scream
clamoring airplane
destroying silence
threatening my peace of mind
in flight path daily
Sweet and sour notes taste just like us,
branded in the lilt of your love language;
From slow jam to that bouncy pick up,
dissonance is the core of our essence;
Branded in the lilt of your love language
is a heartbeat I haven’t felt before;
Our rhythm's unbalanced yet complete;
From slow jam to that bouncy pick up,
a whirlwind of world class clamoring;
We push and pull that forte interlude;
Dissonance is the core of our essence,
monotony lacks any dramatic melody;
Fireworks, our combustible crescendo.
Long languid days and sultry nights
Speckled starlight of unreachable heights
Spellbound and I but a traveler be
Cast asunder on a cosmic sea
No sail, no compass, and no course
Rendered helpless by this invisible force
My clamoring heart the only sound
Lost in love and destiny bound
There is clamoring
In the courtyard
For the feast to come
Guests in their rooms
Trying on garments
To display all they've done
Singing and shouting
Dancing a muck
Thanking the gods
For good fortune and luck
All is perfect
Timing is right
To lay out the final plan
Bodies floating in rivers
Fires burning land
Last moments of vile man
Both sides present
Good and evil in balance
Minds subdued to accept
The inspired valance
Did a pin just drop
As the earth split open
To reveal a falling star
No denying TRUTH
Naked and dark
Revealed, just as you are
Both sides played
Like a long awaited sequel
Easily loved and honored
If not for the clue in the prequel
Wasted matter is forgotten
Like chaff in the wind
Waiting to be devoured
But never you, picking a worthy cause
To see blinded humans
Miss the mark
As you arise, Man of the Hour
Our eyes have seen
Our hearts know TRUTH
You ate Atlantians
And made everything new
Written by Trudy Schrader on 10-052024
Written: September 1st, 2024 For Constance la France Contest
Quote (The ocean's voice is seductive, whispering, clamoring, and grumbling, enticing the soul to wander in solitude and lose itself in introspection.) By Poet
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Allow the oceans to dance with sweet waves,
Flutter your flowing songs, as you swirl bright.
You, copious wrinkles, all day and night,
Talk cheerfully with breezes and graves!
Streams flow sportily across the wide slash,
Until you are white and covered in foam.
And patter past steep stones and curvy roams,
Pearls and diamonds are lush in the trash!
You may call me obvious, stream, or mane,
Is moonlight pale in the cerulean sky?
My gaze is mirrored as I sweep awry,
My face's tan is spurred by molten rain.
My full beard is adorned with crystal moss.
In music, mermaid laughter is like dross.
10 Syllables by line Checked by HMS.COM
The world outside, a cacophony of sound,
A constant hum, a ceaseless, restless beat.
But here within, a quiet space is found,
Where peace resides, and solace makes its seat.
A hush descends, a gentle, calming veil,
That wraps around and stills the inner strife.
No need for words, no need for tales to tell,
Just stillness deep, the rhythm of my life.
The gentle breath, a soft and measured sigh,
A whisper on the air, so light and free.
No clamoring thoughts, no worries to deny,
Just quietude, a silent reverie.
In this serene embrace, my soul takes flight,
And finds its peace, within the silent night.
Stumbling along the worn down pine,
Clamoring like a babe against floor and a table leg
I found the stool to shame all other stools.
Propping my bony bottom atop
Like a laggardly old lion,
Done with denunciation,
Dismal and downgraded,
While awaiting the minstrel's mentions
of a certain sort of sustenance.
"I have here for you soup
My little lamb."
Yet a lion here I sit!
With letters here I writ!
While in my bowl
She spills the same.
Despite my place.
Despite my name.
I take a spoonful
Maybe more.
My taste buds take off
Beyond flavor's shore.
I've now flown the coop
Just for poetry's soup.
Now that we see it all
we can't leap it's to tall
it's to fast its to steep
its to black it's to bleak.
Its everything we fear.
its our worst moment put on the rack and stretched into a year.
It's more than we can handle it's less than we need.
We have to get rid of the poison but we're afraid to bleed
We would open our minds but we're afraid it would all spill out
All for all to see then we would grow board with nothing to be.
Will you anchor your emotions and chastise you doubt
And emflame your glee and set all spirits free
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