Clattering Poems | Examples

At Mile Thirteen

The crowd is gone.
Even the banners have tumbled,
damp scraps collapse against fences,
glued there by storm and breath.

Here, at mile thirteen, 
the body speaks its own dialect:
ribs clattering like loose screen,
calves stuttering,
lungs threading sparks through the fabric
of my chest.

Still, I keep faith with motion.
Each footfall a defective prayer,
each muscle shivering,
but unwilling to betray me.

I remember the child I was,
running shoelaces through fields,
believing the world boundless,
believing endurance implied joy.

Now I know endurance
is the art of carrying grief
without letting it drown me.
It is learning to trust
that a horizon recedes
only to teach patience.

The audience disappears.
Even shadows seem to lag.
The only voice left
is the one I forge
between heartbeat and breath.

I do not race to conquer distance.
I race to prove
that I am still becoming
that even when torn open by fatigue,
the soul can strike a lantern
from pain.

And if the finish waits, let it wait.
Let it wait.
Here, in the thirteenth mile.

Me and a Mug

The feeling of a ceramic mug being formed. 
Mental blocks, not normal. 
Just the clattering of pencils as if they are a cure. 
Taking time out of nothing. 

Taking tempered emotions. 
Stemming and steaming. 
I have enough opportunities. 
They said that. 

I have enough capacity. 
Struggles, and other swirling winds. 
When the thoughts escape. 
The doorway gets caved in. 

The ceramic mug is formed. 
Waits for the way cameras speak. 
Not a soft sound. 
Just the sun and back. 

They say I should consider not making connections. 
They say I make them confused. 
My mental block is endless. 
I wish people would stop trying. 

If the cure was found…
Then the moon landing is endless as me.

Stones

Stones bashing against my glass barrier
Clattering all night through
I just want to sleep as much as I weep
What am I s'pposed to do?

Stones bashing against my glass barrier
You say that you're glad as can be
I just wish some day, they'll be better for you
I just wish your blind eyes could se

Tiger

I know if this country of ours is tiger
     sometimes would go hunting 
    and sometimes may be hunted upon 
  now, how do we know whether tis prey or predator?, 
    which cry is prey and which one is predator?, 
  do  we call such notion revolution or sigh or development 
   or growth. 
  Which at the moment is like clattering?,  metering?, 
   nary-freding or waking?, eh?.

Peace

I wonder how the latest  let say woods in this side of world  are  wishing to grow how 
    clattering all the ways somehow non chalant, somehow 
      withering flea and folly. 
   the problem is not even the furnance so to say 
     even though we will never waste much time let say 
   growing perishable tomatoes. 
   Of course farmers of tomatoes are necessary and 
    the other blossomings-
     the problem of tendency is the woods nowadays, behold 
   whatever windows and doors?. 
     Yes, don't tell me that some biscuits and other cookies 
   will help to enliven peaceful parties and programmes.

Elegy of the moon

One day the moon is another place, a mid flotsam 
     nightmare of titanic is another passion of a haunting 
  ho?. 
  When I imagine something it worries me much, whether 
   the moon is prone or vulnerable like a science or car's 
 or like cat or dog that sometimes walk west or north 
   or raise or groom them?. 
  One day the moon is hither or thither or gal glassing
 and then something is shadowing or clattering like atom
  let say in Mars?-  and still the fact that sometimes 
  my country is like the moon worries me so?, for who 
   will pass a leaning on somehow Monrovia shard or 
  anyhow draw?, or a sort of cell low?, or hunting tonight?. 
 One day the moon intermingling tell us why and what is 
 trespassing- our words  like sacredness - truth - dream - 
  justice - power - politics - are no longer holding or 
      brotherly, lest shatter or wither or weather -  hauntingly?.

Homecoming

Agitated by the plight 
Of the famine hit earth,
As a sign of consolation, 
Tears shed by the clouds		
Come down as raindrops
From the sieve of the sky
Clattering on windows,
Thumping on roofs…
A musical concert 
For the living, below!
Plopping in puddles,
Forming brooks and creeks,
Soak every land
They come across,
With love, unbiased!
Just like the separated souls 
Reunite with the Supreme Soul,
Raindrops do descend to become
One with their source!
A homecoming for them!!

Sea Pearl

I'm fifteen   darkwater dreaming or drowning
adrift and alone on the ocean of the bathroom floor
tossed on tidal waves of pain   pearled with perspiration
a clattering clutch of shells contracting
shingle shushing stifled shrieks
the shucked shell of my womb
emptying like an oyster snared
by umbilicals of seaweed   Far away
hazy-faint through saltwater mists I see
a little pearl glistening   floating and rocking in red sea

I'm all at sea   without anchor on tides   a boat floating free
seeking a mooring in the harbour of the doctor's consulting room
her voice a deep dive   anchoring me with subtle sympathy
through muffled underwater sounds   sea-shadowy fog shawling me

I want to tell her about the dream   submerged stories of a tiny pearl
maroon-mangled and foam-spangled   slipping slowly from me
into scarlet sea   drifting away   sinking to darkwater depths

Driving home my mother's rings clink like shells against the steering wheel
and a shaming sea of silence fills the car   pretty shells shucked and shocked

A Flap of Crows

The bare branches were shaking,
twigs rattled like ill-fitting teeth.


I thought:
'any moment now
the coal black lumpiness of them
will break a bough,
and all tumble down or up,
creating sky-slides of avian tumult'.


They jousted at each other,
clattering their sharp quilled feathers
like angry Black Knights.

The very air shook as they bounced,
up and down
imitating hooligans on a drunken spree -
rowdy 'caws' assaulting all ears.

Then,
in a sudden spray of alarmed confusion
they scattered, wheeling away,
in every direction.

From behind a thick-glass window,
someone must have muttered:

Shoo!

Doggy-Stalgic

They enrich life day by day.
By ones side they'll always stay.
We only notice when they depart
The paw prints they left on our heart.
Looking back, there's a special joy...
The canine with their favourite toy
The clattering of excited paws
The scrapes they made on wooden floors
Their wagging tails, their messy eat
Their obedience for a treat
The way they sensed one feeling sad
The lovely bond that once was had.
Each a character of their own,
One of the family. A part of home.
These furry friends of ours will roam
In treasured memories til our time has flown.

Summer Chugalug

Backyard dandelions
have parachuted upwards,
        on heavenly breezes.

The mower gave them a kick-start,
then they ascended; some to tickle
            ears and noses.

Ride along garden cowboy,
your straw fieldhands hat,
        is full of sunny sweat.

Old black dog
                  long past its time,
jiggles its hairy hind -
a hot tamale wagging the sky.

                        Small town
brown rabbits scoot the air.

Honeybunch arrives with cold beer.

Soon the gas guzzler
will dawdle, decide to die happy,
its clattering engine
between khaki shorts
sputters
upon a stubby green.

Orbiting Sol
dandelion children
                    return
loaded with raindrops
            to wet the whiskers
of a fat tabby cat.

Now where did lumpkins go?

Under the hedgerow
feline gums yawn wide.

Waves

My relentless reverie reposed 
on engrossing edge of halcyon horizon,
where the scarlet sun 
unshrouds the demure dawn,
brings me across million miles 
of dreaming detour of trance
to the cyan sea that shines 
with the shades of fervent allure.

I stand overwhelmed looking  
at the periphery of primal vastness,
its boundless joy dancing 
on the crests of surging waves,
make clattering cascade of pearls 
as they crash on the craggy cliff,
and flowing free return reticent 
to the fathomless serenity of silence.

The embrace of the silver sheet 
swathes my fragile foothold,
as the waves beat beguiled 
in the moonbeam ballet of blue night, 
I search for my mesmeric mermaid, 
swimming away on the stardust trail,
and I set sail in the serenading wind 
to where my heart is beyond the sea.

Passing Underneath a Railway Bridge

She seemed oblivious to the smattering of lightly falling rain;        
   He holding her hand...and as much as his very life should 
 Depend upon this.                                                      
  Overhead, a commuter train hastening down the clattering track;           
And right there, underneath the bridge, suddenly pulling him back,   
   She halted and gave him a look that spoke so plain.              
 It was in that moment, head tilted, leaning over...she then planted 
  That fatal kiss.     
Methinks he would forever more chance the perils of Dantes' Flame...             
   Even being that it might just be the most desperate of chances 
 For all things to remain the same.

Xylophone

It seemed to me, at the outset, an abacus,
Of nursery kids; and, lo, looked less glamorous; 
It had scales fixed on a piano skeleton,
While an abacus shone like beads in gelatin...!  

It has an Asian origin, someone told me,
(Does it mean continent chauvinism sets me free?) 
I listened to it once, as a snake its charmer,
After all, can any music be a harmer...? 

Rough, razor-sharp, clattering, bubbling, and doubling,
Shrill, hollow, ticking, transparent, and less troubling;
Odd rough ringing, clanging, and gonging pulled my soul,
I felt, in xylophonic tune, I had a role...!

Harmony, as that of the other rhythmic tools,
In xylophone too, like deep freshwater lakes, pools;
Tunes and tones, like echoes from mountains and hills filled,
My heart, with its melodic mood, got wildly thrilled...!!!


28 April 2023 
Rhymes Checked At: Rhyme Zone
Syllables Checked At: How Many Syllables

Full Flow

The plumbing here is atrocious
With clattering so ferocious
It spits and splats, like angry cats
And can also; be quite precocious

Just a tiddle, as with its handle i fiddle
Gazing into its innards, only a dribble!
I peer so intent, on my knees in a dent!
As concrete makes; pain so complete.

Wow, I lurch without perch and numb feet
In I draw breath, then rattle smash bash
A torrent’s comes flash' a watery lash!
In sodden clothes, I must beat a retreat.

©Joe Maverick 20-11-2022

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