Cold drink glasses clank with the loud laughter
Heads of kin wiggle as smoky fragrance floats
Infused with garlic, spices, and squeeze of lime
Chicken kebab deeply grilled lines up the plate
Ketchup splash, onion slice garnish the delicacy
Every bite offers an aromatic and tangy treat
Nestled on the dish is a masterpiece of meat.
Keen for the alluring crispy taste and tender tang
Enjoying the dinner that bonds us with food and fun
Bounteous platters are emptied with happy speed
Appetite is satiated with savory good times spent
Bliss of feast permeates the content hearts for long.
I am two dollars a coin away from help
But the clank of life
left me unadorned
I abhor the spirit that the doesn’t scream
Because I scream
To the telephone screen
I’m revolted by the volts of pain
Spread from phone
To phone box pane
The sticky flow of the scent of blood
Interests my intent
Its memory hugs:
The phone,
The screen,
The glass,
Your next to me in speech
But your speech is not sweet
For two dollars a coin
We meet twice a week
The floor is bad and stable
But never when I need
This grasp of horror holds me
And never lets me leave
I am not a spirit
I am not the floor
I am only a drop of blood
I cascade like shadow beneath the weary feet
Of a telephone tree
Like terrible intelligent beings
I whittle away
Like God and his lineage
I disappear
Till the telephone rings
And I bleed with despair
Or a change of life chimes
For two dollars a coin
And I ask to be freed
From the telephone screen
But the phone doesn’t ring
And it makes me feel weak.
For two dollars a coin
We meet twice a week
Only two dollars a coin
To make me feel free
A lovely lake,
one she had once swam within
as free as any flying fish.
A would-be lover waved her to come ashore,
but she lingered in that blue lake
letting the waters caress her in parts
that no admirer could ever heal.
It takes forever just to rise and sit
at the edge of the bed,
bones rasp on bones,
hot wires thread joints.
At last,
she looks over the side of the mattress
into that blue clear lake again.
She could dive now, she thinks,
dive headlong and deeply into it,
never to return to any surface.
With a scream of joy, she surrenders
to those obliviating waters,
shedding many dry years,
and swimming quickly away
from the maul and clank of time.
A handfull of it
Wont buy a pint
Wether its milk
Or beer, even a coffee
Black or flat white.
A handfull of it
May jingle and clank
Wont buy a chunk of wood,
Not even bus fare
Certainly not a full plank.
A handfull of change
Cant help you arrange
A taxi ride to take you home
Change can be many things
wont buy, a meaty stew bone.
So keep the change held tight
Dont make a change in the night
You wont need to change at all
Maybe youl need to just sit and see
That changes not needed effect you and me
Deus Volt I scream by my brother's side,
a distinct bell rings measuring 39mm wide,
high stepping over the deconstructed rubble,
klashnikov volley is what's giving us trouble,
our advancement through the city begins to slow,
primary and secondary left with one mag to go, (clink)
armor so tight it impedes the breathing, (clank)
honor steps in like a sword unsheathing, (clink)
clinking of a grenades stops under my chest,
my brothers have been saved you know the rest.
The one place that I am guaranteed to find happiness is at work…just about 4:00 on a Friday. Because we all know that even the worst weekend will still trump the best workday. No matter how sick or hurt I was at the beginning of the shift, by the time the hour hand finally managed to crawl around to the end of the day, all my aches and pains would somehow vanish. There’s no sound in the world that brings more smiles to our faces than the clank of a time clock on Friday afternoon.
Staring at the clock
each tick an eternity;
Workplace agony
Shot after shot after shot
Caitlin’s red-hot
Swish, swish, swish; the net barely moves
Caitlin feels it; she’s in the groove
Game after game, win after win
The adulation never wears thin
Comes the game for the number one rank
Caitlin’s shots go clank, clank, clank
Her touch, gone; her face, drawn
Millions of shots for tears spawned
I’ve been told
“things work out for the best”
in that way each of us
Divinely blessed
God in control they say –
if only Time didn’t hurt…
I believe in life hereafter
I believe no wrong God
can’t have undone; someday
somehow our dear Lord to make
all losses won --
God in control they say --
if only Time didn’t hurt…
God in control they say
though ticking I find unbearable
swinging pendulum a clank and
clunk~ when a heart sunk
too deep one’s despair...yet I
am told, God is always
fair – always there – somewhere
taking loving care
God in control they say --
if only Time didn’t hurt...
No theologian am I
just a common soul, treading, adrift;
questioning if sane to trust in fate --
dialogues with God sounding always
one sided debate --
I believe in love
while more questioning
my faith
God in control they say
your silence pushing me
further astray --
if only Time didn’t hurt...
If only Time didn’t hurt…
If only Time didn’t hurt….
Darkness was descending in a crawled dread,
entering evening’s creepy gloom by that fence
vile and sharp as evil silhouettes of greed’s luv..
In the narrow guarded gates, a Halloween alibi
living open, is a walking workforce all powerful
sporting eyes, bloodied, from searing naked souls…
Gamblers risk the chains always snapping
Ankles bound clank with links as Metallica
undoes panic screams, of nonexistent you,
now a mere silent statistic mute and shorn,
tied down in a sterile stainless-steely night
left to the mercies of a tamed cold, so feral…
Edenites guard walled riches from the ogre
that hails from a south, full of satanic heat!
(11/27/2022 - For Emile Pinet’s Halloween contest)
Sounds of summer invite my good cheer
Chirp, chirp, chirping of the gentle sparrow,
Even the roar of the machines mowing near
The clank of tractors making furrows narrow.
Gentle breezes swishing through sycamore trees
Chatter of red squirrels playing in the breeze.
I hear the mockingbird’s trill in the hedge row
As I stroll through the meadow’s golden hue,
The click of the crickets, a dog’s bark although
My little Jose is gone, making me feel blue.
A cloud overhead drips droplets of warm rain
And I, once again, am in my favorite domain.
A crunch of old leaves beneath my shod feet
On the path to the brook, the babble is inviting,
Sounds of summer make this perfect day complete
Even sizzling sunshine overhead, never slighting!
I am especially happy when my senses are delighted
Frankly, a stroll through the meadow makes me excited.
Written July 1, 2022
for “Onomatopoeia” Poetry Contest
sponsored by Emile Pinet
click@clack %clank# click@ blaoop......
I hear the dishes clink and clank,
And footsteps on the floor.
Are you still there? I ask myself,
I don't know anymore.
I reach the stairs and sit a while,
Outside my bedroom door.
"Are you still there?" I ask out loud,
I wish that I knew more.
I'm almost down the staircase now,
I'm sitting on step four.
I see you through the railing gaps,
Inside the kitchen door.
You are still there! I see you now,
Of this I can be sure.
I'll stay a while and watch you as you
Finish up your chore.
"It's time for bed, you sleepy head.
Feel safe and feel secure.
I'll always be right here for you,
Right now and evermore."
going to a new place where flowers bloom
you have a taste for flounder and shrimp scampi
i have a taste for scallops and coconut shrimp
i say rice and cheddar biscuits
you say lobster potatoes and baked beans
we are now at home with everything
i look all over for the cookbook
of course you find it in under five seconds
we laugh at that for a spell
we wash our hands throughly and begin cooking our special little feast
chop chop chop
whisk whisk whisk
shake shake shake
clank clank clank
michael franks is setting the cool, calm mood
open goes the oven
we smile at our impromptu mess of achievement
you then come closer to me and bury your head in my chest and take in the hemp and lavendar soap
i myself take in your fresh scent of calm waters
though we are far from each other's type, we worked to find Love in the center of an unexpected Common Ground
while waiting for the food to finish cooking, we relax, rejoice, and enjoy the comforting company of each other
A beautiful creek running through the fall array
Reflecting the woes of mother nature
In a slice of bliss surrounded by concrete.
Casting worries aside, problems fade away.
The distant clank of society blare like trumpets,
but yet the silence here is so serene.
This is the scene they should see.
Birds chirping mixed with the horns of cars,
The harmony creates a melody.
This is the music they should hear.
This moment of peace is the soul's plea.
Leaning on the bridge the city is on pause.
A brief moment; to question one's destiny.
A brief moment to let go of fear.
In a snap, it's back the world moves.
But that peace never fades.
It just turns into another day.
I think I'll paint this scene,
so everyone's mood improves.
bloop
dribble
drip
drizzle
splash
spray
sprinkle
squirt
ahem
belch
blurt
chatter
giggle
growl
groan
grunt
gulp
gurgle
eek
moan
mumble
murmur
squeal
whimper
bam
bang
clang
clank
clap
clatter
click
clink
crash
crunch
:: 10.19.2021 ::
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.