Clamps Poems

New Sonnet 3 Whene'er I Find Myself Alone and Ponder

Whene'er I find myself alone and ponder,
My life grown small around me clamps my heart,
And fiercely beats the rain, fiercer the thunder,
I cannot save myself by any art...

And when within this prison of my mind,
I know that nothing good can ever be,
Where no ray of the Sun I ever find
It seems sometimes, I sudden, think of thee,

And then, all rays of Sun that once were lost,
And good things once forgotten, now may be,
Then I leap up and do not count the cost,
And break my bands and all at once, am free

Unbound, my heart ends rain, makes silent, thunder
Makes vapor, shades, and bursts the dark asunder.

Pray For Me

A final rest clamps down on my eyelids
The shadow grows hovering over my soul
The hand of death weighs heavy on me
Not the death but a drifting from faith

The good I would do I do not, I do more of the evil
A million and one times have I fallen flat and folded
The sorrow runs a deep course through my veins
This sin seems deep seated in reins, to its shame I'm helpless

God with this sin I'm struggling, I do not want to disgust you
My eyes grow weary from many tears of sorrow
My heart's gotten tired to the thoughts of again I did it
God You can have mercy on me and really touch me too

Lost again in the prayers of humble sadness
There are no more tears left to shed
Have Your way with me truly just touch me LORD
Empty and break me LORD truly touch this me

Like a metal in the hands of the goldsmith
Beat and fashion me into Your precious being
Sin is getting the best of me, I am sorry LORD.
Pray for this last piece of me and bring me back again

Sorry Closed

No goods today
No table spare
Contraction themed
Hole round, not square

Diversion signs
A blocked traverse
A clear sans passage 
A please reverse 

The flower that
Just won't unfurl
The shell that clamps
Around a pearl

No open heart
No mind that's free
A fist so tight
It's plain to see

We have too much
It may be truth
A shriveled soul 
Makes man uncouth

So open, please
Relieve more strife
Hold less, share more
Extend your life

A gesture, simple
Not so grand
Some folks just need
That un-closed hand

So faithful whistle
Cheery song
My gosh, the world needs
Hope this strong

Road Setters

Bridges connecting lines and dots on roads where people pass
Edges and rims dissecting flaps and humps, cones and tones that rap
Clamps and bolts, braces and thongs, hashtags and pegs, anchor holds

Jar

A
jar now
mutely holds
washers and clamps,
nuts, bolts, screws, buttons, and the oddity.
It once held the dreams I dreamt and jangled
with hopes, desires
I’d saved, lost
in one
life.

The Deceitful Spider

THE DECEITFUL SPIDER
In him toppling of his moment
But rather to heed, he clamps in harrowing lava
Buried in it a shackled advent  
Give your screaming a rest. Never!
Will it come, the white angel foil 
Whose days fold and mould in cracking chins 
Chins for long has a stolen joy
Having not a whispering heart by inch
You are much the spider web in sun
That sugars it prey of a colourful rainbow
Colourful rainbow or a laser gun?
A silky pattern, it follows
But as the flash, it entirety web to death
Does the prey buy the blame?
Of appreciating in you the best
Heedless u claim to your hunting flame
Gathered in numbers the innocent soul
Until the poisonous prey was caught
Your toppling moment has it mould

How To Proliferate Flowers

Thumb crush caterpillar fuzz follicle woven wire bent
Pipe cleaner indetectibly clamps fluttery paper crepe
Tiny tear splinter injury etched on crinkled parchment
Puncture forms an institute to forthwith contemplate


Together classified as flower, louloudia beauty flaunt
Plumage lurid thrives beside finite petal flop contrast
Tactical iron hand velvet glove primes formal contort
Proclamations crafted after careful strategy prefaced


Ruffled rogue construct erects its garish occupation
Origami hegemony laughs at limp stemmed genuine
Traditional rotted rose heavy heads rely on hydration
Pointed silver skewer stamen expands phenomenon 



            
               Sixteenth February
               - Pseudo Society -

Children of China

Children of China 
David J Walker

When left to their own devices 
The vise and  the vices come out
And Catch both witless and wise 
 In clamps and  crimps and cramps in the 
Hard and darkened  damp 
Of a shade from the foreign Gamp made 
and shipped by children of China

who claim all rights  to name
the moon and Ursa Minor with
An option for the sun

When left to their own devices 
The witless  and wisest 
Sit side by side in priceless pride
And the cheapest priced prizes 
In an anniversary party  as the
Sun Also Set Rises 
	In the west

A Most Mammorable Birthday

My mammogram is due today
Twill be mammorable, I’ll say
Both boobies will hurty,
When squashed at 1.30,
Oh bother it’s on my birthday!


I’ll stand at the booby machine,
It clamps me, oh boy it’s so mean,
They’ll check for breast cancer
Scans provide the answer,
Then birthday lunch in the canteen.

25th January 2021

Cats Are So Proud

Proud to be alive, with a beautiful stride
it’s a mate she has to sway, before it’s too late
After something to strive, it’s now time to reside
with not wanting affray, she says bye to her mate

Her cubs born in a hive, and still having to hide
it must me mums’ way, that decides their fate
Getting taught to survive, from a mum who has pride
they’ll need lots of play, to turn out so great

Wanting them to thrive, she has to be their guide
so they can have their say, for what’s on their plate
With young ones to feed, she goes hunting for food
with a stealth of a creep, she gets close to some feet

It is what they need, as their meal comes her way
she has a big leap, and clamps down on her meat
In they come to reap, on the catch of the day
they now start to feast, after finding the best seat

Woman In Chains

giant hand clamps her mouth tightly shut
she does not even try to speak 
has traded life for love
but is this it?
is this it?

She dares not speak
her truth
her ideas
her thoughts
Is she dreaming that she had them?
Possibly.
The fear of making him angry keeps her perpetually silent.
She doubts that her children knows she has thoughts.

She has not seen her family of origin for over ten years.
They have never met her three children.
They would be shocked at her submissiveness.
Her old self would not even recognize her.
Fear keeps her silent.
He says she can leave.
He will keep the children.
Fear he will start hurting them next keeps her here.
And so she stays.
Chained to the man she loves.



Written 8-29-2020
Contest: Woman in Chains
Sponsor: John Hamilton

Words Prance Off the Shelf

Words prance off shelves 
and hit me in the head
Trying to land in my mouth

Little do they know my mouth cannot use them
My mouth is afraid
of the wrath of others

But my fingers can use them
Will type them up quickly 
and make them a poem

Still they try for my mouth
Trying to make it “man” up
but it clamps itself shut more tightly than ever

Fearful of the wrath of others
Try for my hands I want to scream at them
as words prance off shelves, landing on my shoulders

Le Sable

A gale sweeping seashore ,
Witness to the Sibyl's utterings
Contains the sable unharmed 
With each passing jiffy .

Chandelier is mirroring moonlight,
Through the sable's surface serene
The sole inhabitant of the lone coast
Not that nights are lonely with the moon.

Crestfallen creatures , are unknown
Of the sable's loneliness ,
The sole survivor of the tsunamis
And the only surface to the beaches.

One mantelpiece surrounding the fire
Of envy and the insecurities ,
Betraying the smoke it clamps down
To feel the warmth , while burning inside.

The sundown , being an excuse 
To it's existence while it rests
It's fate on the facade of a million facets,
Dying while life insists to stay.

Back For Renewals

Workman Abe always left his tools for you.
His hammer, his level, his wrench, his nails.

His electric drill, clamps, vice grips, screws too
Left them hither and yon, habit never fails.

From Timbuktu to Hackensack his stuff he lends. 
Some called him up to give him back his stuff.

Unconcerned, he said that’s okay; keep them my friends.
Workman Abe simply did not care, his habits rough.

If he came back to do another job, of course he left his tools.
Knowing that you might call him back; worked well for renewals.

Hurt My Bum Hole

Physically ill after mentally drilled 
It’s one or the other
I have one shield

Laying in my bed naked
the room shakes my head
as walls begin to cycle
Eyelids cover eyeballs

My stomach says hello my friend 
My mouth immediately clamps shut 
but the aim is towards the other end 
I’m going to puke out of my butt 

I make two fists clenching my colon 
Unstoppable now flowing strong
i start to growl as inside I rumble 
a very loud fart hurts my bum hole

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