gigantean gibber-gabble gives girlish gander goose genuine goluptious
gobbledygook glorifying glimmering glimpses of greasy glossy glittering
goose gossip.
Much confusion by the angry rabble
Noisy voices, unheard gibberish babel
Turkeys in a gobbly gook central gabble
Political idiots who argue while they dabble
Works of fire and thunder
flower the surface of a dark river.
When the rockets
are dead-eyed and spent,
muffled calls remain -
a flap and gabble,
of the peevish and ruffled.
Night stumbles over the edge
of gunpowder clouds.
Ducks deliver themselves
to the dark-dinged sky.
Distant cannons sigh.
What is death if not supreme silence,
Have you ever craved the silk of a quiescent moment?
When the constant barrage of noise around you becomes abhorrent,
And what if the most deafening gabble,
Came from a source that was unavoidable?
Nails on slate but imaginary,
At the base of your skull reverberating,
Now hover in that moment eternally.
As years go by and seasons change,
One thing always stays the same:
The ceaseless racket inside your brain,
Feasting on your sanity at a rate you cannot sustain.
Death is my mistress of solitude,
She flies around me,
An interpretive dance of doom,
Sensually she reminds me,
A painful moment can buy me
An eternity of peace.
Chit chattering so happily, in babyish first conversations,
Like treetop little birdies, sharing emerald observations,
Burbling giddily and gaily, as golden moments evanesce,
Tattling like garden beauty secrets, in the feverish press!
Jabbering enthusiastic jollity, in the success of noon sun,
Rumors of glad gibberish, as droning bees in gilt sudden,
Joyful, twittering chit-chat, at back fence of my gladness,
Gossiping with fascinated grandma, on a summer canvas.
Babble,gabble
simper,whimper
gurgle coo;
holler,howl
scream,sigh
then cry.
Squeak,shriek
screech,squeal
bang,clang;
gnash,splash
peal and crash.
Shout,spout
roar ,rage
toot,hoot whistle;
whoop,sing
cheer and yell.
Ding,ting,tone
zing and ring
hiss,moan and groan;
whisper
then kiss.
The fool does not think to kick your behind,
when there is no ink of pen as-sign-ed.
No tree will disquiet the forest of your ears,
if you relinquish the hot-iron gabble that sears.
You will find it superfluous to dig up a chest,
if your trove relies on what’s heaven’s best.
Preserve your pearly-charm, child of youth,
for “a fly does not enter a closed mouth.”
8/7/2019
Romani Proverb Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julia Ward
*The final line per the sponsor’s request.
There was a gibble gabble woman
In our neighborhood when I was a child.
She sung gossip the way
Porters sling suitcases, trying to break people
Her tongue was fast, and mean, and she had no shame
We learned quickly she was fun to rile, and quick to spread joy
When we got older we noticed she was near-sighted too.
See? We would say, pointing, “There they are now.”
We knew full well her eyes could not make out the people.
But she took us at our lying words, and spread her powerful poisons
We laughed that she could not see the end of her own finger,
Yet she believed us; we relished giving her misinformation.
It was our mission to send her on gossip-filled excursions
During the summers of our 6th and 7th grade years.
I am sad to say we could not twist her up or wind her the next year.
She had died a pauper’s death. We were the only two at her funeral.
She said she prefers humor
In a man. I am no Shakespeare
But I know how to conjugate
With knack and with wit, even
The occasional split infinitive:
To gamely gabble as she giggles.
Where is the fun in that? Better
To impress her with some slapstick
Skit, or razor sharp sarcastically
Spoken iambic limerick about
How good her big "bits" are, yes
My own form of comical flattery!
She is craving for it, the absence of
My despair (also known as tragedy).
FLIGHTS OF FANCY PHRASIS 4
Babble,gabble simper,whimper
gurgle coo;holler,howl scream,sigh
then cry.Squeak,shriekscreech,squeal
bang,clang;gnash,splash peal and crash.
Shout,spout roar ,rage toot,hoot whistle;
whoop,sing cheer and yell.
Ding,ting,tone zing and ring
hiss,moan and groan;whisper then kiss.
Touchy feely,relating ,really instinctive
insight,perceptive prescient perpetually
pragmatic &personally persuaded.
Passionate,impassioned,sensitive &
sentimental ardent & excited,fervently
astir and free to be.
From Flights of Fancy 2003
Listen to me recite this part phrasis on youtube under my pen name ichthys chiro
Again 'tis that time of year when I must evade that cruel axe!
With the thought of my neck on the choppin' block I jes' cain't relax!
How about a goose or duck to complement yer pies, beans and peas,
Or yer grandma's meatloaf to go with them sweet pertaters if you please!
I certainly ain't got nothin' to celebrate and be thankful fer,
And with that my cousins, brothers and uncles fully concur!
I pray you'll find other victuals in which to stab yer knife and fork.
May I respectully suggest that you eat more beef, feesh and pork!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Sometimes I think
I enjoy fear
remembering what I felt
when I was fearless.
I awake bravely
in the morning knowing
risks and hearing continuous
portents, sad words
follow me everywhere.
Is silence the scariest thing,
or is the gabble of human
voices scarier still?
"Life" was the shout as the gabble smashed down,
ill never forget that cracking sound,
pearcing eyes from every direction,
judge and jury showing rejection.
My mind a puzzle of purple and haze,
a puddle diluted with hatred and rage,
resentments,fear,paranoia and pain,
the collabirition finally, drove me insane.
now stood sober,full of shame,
inside a room with nothing to gain,
the jailer offers a sympathetic grin,
as he takes me down for a sentance to begin.
Again 'tis that time of year when I must evade that forebodin' axe!
With the thought of my neck on the choppin' block, I jes' cain't relax!
How about a goose er duck to complement yer pies, beans and peas,
Er yer grandma's meatloaf to go with them sweet pertaters if you please!
I certainly ain't got nothin' to celebrate and be thankful fer,
And with that my cousins, brothers and sisters wholly concur!
I pray you'll find other victuals in which to stab yer knife and fork.
May I respectfully suggest that you eat more beef, feesh and pork!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 2 in Russell Sivey's "Challenge - Max 8 Lines" Contest - October 2011
heart flutters bearing the news
appointed poet laureate
bows comrades honoring name
gift gabble raising thy brows
expectations of nil
inspirations for others
Tribute To Poetry
And To All The Wonderful Poets
Here In The Soup Bowl
I Bow To Each
Also Entry For
Brian Strand's
Poet Laureate Contest
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