Long Spluttering Poems

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Premium Member TRANSMUTATION

Once I had harbored complexes many.
I thought I wasn’t beautiful or wise.
With my spluttering tone and broken speech,
I feared, my words fell flat,
Never leaving an impact or impression

Now when I have learnt to accept myself as I am,
I find, there is more strength in me than I know,
And I really do have worth.

I know, even sunshine can burn,
If we bask too much in its warmth.
When our ego is shorn and our craving
For acceptance is lifted off like a piece of lead
It is then we feel lighter at heart.

Do you think this wisdom descended on me,
All too sudden? Never, it came slowly,
When passed through bitter trials, the ups and downs of life.

As grapes are crushed to make red wine, 
As sunflower seeds are pressed to extract oil,
One is passed through the tests of life,
And my insights, I got through hard lessons.

Now I know I am not just a traveler in this wild terrain,
And my sojourn here is not accidental but has a purpose.
I realize I am not alone, but walk among people,
Who share a commonality of experience.

When corn withers on the stalk,
And when life gets torn from its moorings,
It signals that change must come.

When I wished to get a new ignition
And when I tried it with all my might
My leaden nights got transformed into golden days. 

So, don’t fret when life confronts you like a Sumo wrestler.
Just know you are in the process of a transmutation!

I have been in utter darkness,
But burning myself in the blazing fire,
I have acquired the sheen and glitter of gold, 
And how thankful I am, for I am re-forged!


Premium Member Sole Survivor

Tremulous soil plays host to fleeing frightened fauna as
cacophonic outpourings shatter my serenity.

Whilst my delicate limbs shake in symphonic sympathy,
spluttering engines of destruction belch caustic black plumes,
burnished blades gouging vicious fissures in Mother's carpet.

Horrified, I bear witness, as immemorial kin
are butchered and unceremoniously hauled away;
their dessicated carcasses destined to line pockets.

Now I stand alone: sole survivor of this massacre.
Left to contemplate my fate, I muse: when will my time come...?

--------------------------------------------------

(14 syllables per line - checked with howmanysyllables.com)

16 September 2017

For the "Personification of Plant" Premiere Contest, sponsored by Kim Rodrigues.
(4th Place)

Premium Member A Visit To the Doctor

A VISIT TO THE DOCTOR

I had a bad cold,
And my throat was sore,
My husband told,
Me to go to the Doctor,
Before I got flu!
I made an appointment and was due,
To be seen at two o’clock.
I sat down next to a young man,
Who had the pock,
He was coughing and 
Spluttering all over me,
Can’t you see,
Don’t you care,
Are you not aware,
That you’re spreading your germs,
All around this place,
He got up with a red face, 
And sat on a chair at the back
Which fell as he sat for he was big,
And the chair had a crack!
As soon as he left, sat a lady,
She told me she had shingles,
Just to look at her gave me tingles.
I got up very concerned and ready
To take my next seat
I chose one whose occupant I didn’t suspect,
For physically I couldn’t detect,
Anything visible, she told me 
She had swine flu,
And my flu vaccine was overdue!
I shot up and was ready to leave,
But the next patient was a toddler
Who seemed very shy, and I 
Did not register, 
That he seemed to have lumps 
His Mom told me
Her youngster had mumps,
After he had sat on my knee,
And had a chew on my car-key!
I phoned my husband and told him,
That I had been in touch with a toddler,
With mumps,
I could immediately hear he fell down
In the dumps
For he had never had mumps,
And disliked the thought of getting
These lumps,
And of course any repercussion thereafter,
Would certainly not be a matter,
For laughter!
As I was about to leave,
A little girl arrived with measles,
Who repeatedly said
Mom I don’t like needles!
This was too much I was going home,
I opened my bag, and put back my phone.
We both thought it was certainly safer,
To go home and take a Corenza!
So if you get sick,
Try and get better on your own,
Or try to speak to your
Doctor on the phone,
For whatever it was I had,
If I’d stayed at the Doctor's rooms
I’d be sicker, sad
And feeling bad!
Form: Rhyme

O Glorious Autumn

O glorious Autumn of melancholic 
Gold -
All abouts the brightly lit
Woodlands
Your wonderful artistry behold!
Tinted bronzes,
Darting between awkward firs
Of sobering Evergreen,
Loiter inside mauve havens
Splashed with palest yellows -
And dappled with many differing 
Limes
Throughout this variegated Theme;
A myriad of rustling contentment,
Sweetest contrasting charms,
Complimentary...
Softly whispering leafy hues...
Hushed...most elegantly serene.
 
Bursting into the swelling copses 
And invading between the 
Dwindling fields:
Auburn, primrose and lilac views -
Abundant with seasons 
Celebrations
That so magnificently infuse!
Glowering in simmering sunset,
And spluttering in misty dawn:
Afire with all the orbs oozing 
Revelry, 
That upon barkened furniture,
To thus gild - and resplendently
Adorn!

Now is the time
That dry tinkling leaves
Give musical resonance 
To a breath exhaled from
A breeze...
Fanning the boughs roaring flames
That each out-stretched branch 
does eagerly seize,
Fired from the eternal torch
That immortal Ceridwen tirelessly
Sought;
Whilst I hang upon evocative
Memories
That this arresting moment briefly 
Caught.

Blazing with a consummate passion
Ignited from a poets grappling 
Thoughts:
The Muses to this joyous splendour
Were summarily summoned
And brought;
But as elusive as the enchanting
Notes
From the intoxicating pipes of 
Evasive Pan...
So as elusive the words of the 
Unwritten verse 
That so evade this singular man.

So burn! You gaily painted colours,
Within abandoned restrain,
Your dizzying carousel 
A whirling kaleidoscope 
Upon an artists ever changing frame.
Soft ochres and dappled browns
Mixed with vivid orange and crimson
Red...
Applied lavishly from the palette 
Of Artemis 
Over which the vibrant pastes 
Are thinly spread.

A riot of pastel shades
All exploding forth -
With the raging power of a 
Supernova
Of an immense, dazzling force!
All hail to the almighty:
From the devout to the Divine...
And all hail to the Grandeur 
And Majesty -
Of his awe-inspiring design!
Form: Rhyme

Relief Courtesy Dreaded Re: Inspection Not Revisited Until May 2022

Relief courtesy dreaded (re:) inspection not revisited until May 2022

Anticipatory anxiety put on high alert
when the warden gave less than a week
courtesy spluttering tone of voice
she did angrily blurt
nsync with her usual persona
being wickedly curt
treating us (myself and missus) like dirt
gloating in our writhing adversity

poor, sharecroppers, no matter yours truly indigent
no matter exhaustive effort I do exert
to secure living income/wage, thus flirt
with visions of illusions grandeur
analogous to taut pulled belt girt
tightly around psyche whereby temple hurt
with unbearable agony
rendering these lovely bones inert.

Grosse and Quade Management
at 2 Highland Manor Apartments
with Jackie Geiger at the helm
finds yours truly afflicted with weak
praise, cuz she left us
(meself and the missus)
in figurative darkness,

whereby I electronically bellow and shriek
silently critiquing as if writing op/ed
for Time magazine and/or defunct Newsweek
perhaps under heading summarizing healthweek,
which hypothetical issue possibly considered
virtual collector's item
and subsequently unreal antique.

Nevertheless said rich daddy's princess
forewarned yours truly and spouse
dated June 24th, 2021,
quoted verbatim as follows:

Dear Mr. & Mrs. Harris
Due to your recent annual inspection,
we will be re-inspecting
your apartment on Tuesday, June 29th
from 11am-4pm.
We will be conducting
the inspection to ensure
you are making progress
cleaning your apartment,
especially your kitchen and bathroom areas.
We also want to keep up
with eliminating your fruit fly issue
in your apartment.

The above date came and went
(as did two other recently lapsed dates),
we never got notified
approximately five year tenant
logically concluded - and anger pent
up inside furious enough
methinks gross analogy when
twenty eight National Guardsmen
fired their weapons at a group
of anti-war demonstrators at Kent
State On May 4, 1970,
now mine poem attains completion extent.
Form: Rhyme


Though a Democrat

Unblinking reflexive opinions lean
     indubitably, favorably and certifiably
     with minimal pandering soliciting
     uber voodoo yawping woos

socially quintessentially obviously markedly
     consciousness brakes alignment
     defining mine political views
loosely yet not strictly, jerry-rigged,

     hidebound Democratic
     fealty haltingly pledged ones and twos
to roster of candidates
     slated to challenge incumbent Republicans

     all to quickly accused,
     sans participating sinister ruse
this active voter puzzled at controversial
     eye opening ex post facto

     fractious, governmental
     harmfully injuriously jaw-dropping
     suppression within top secret queues
during nasty donkey kong braying p's and q's
(case in point) scurrilous, opprobrious,

     and malodorous Clinton administration,
where (based upon my recent perusing
     "The Peoples History” – 
     me strongly endorses

     (authored by Howard Zinn news
worthy revelation, (whose recounting
     atrocious, calumnious, egregious
     glaring ignominious knowledge

     jackbooted, mandated, predicated
     on blind trust, essentially billeted
     charade, facade, inlaid faux Hope loose
bandied cutthroat gratuity legislation

     favoring pandering "pork" via
     pretentiousness to wealthy gentiles Jews
abandoning average civilians snuffing out
     sputtering, grousing, and hoo's

flick erring tapering fuse
whereat this news worthy informed citizen
     totally tubularly unaware of any clues
pertaining to antithetical maneuvers,

     (loo win ski) shenanigans, and undertakings
     today yields genuine boo's
toward Clinton, where I despondently feel
     he renegged promises 

     made to electorate (except top 1 %) got souled
     (sold) to remaining 99% cheapest bidders
     as-sized thirteen duff heated no nothing
     sneezing Schnorrers 
     spluttering phelgm at me at-chews.

Premium Member Tales of a Hero

After a long drought, it started to rain.
Breaking the spell on the parched plain
Rainfall fell steadily at the begin.
Quenching the land and everything within.

Many hours later of continuous rain
Torrents of water swallowed the arid terrain.
Debris and buildings quickly swept through
People and animals lost their lives too.
 
Hearing her screams over the roar of the thunder.
A child swept by the current but kept going under.
He was the first to step into the murky water.
Against all the odds began swimming towards her.

The water was fierce, angry and raging. 
Not thinking twice about the risk, he was taking.
With God by his side and his adrenalin high
To save this child's life, he knew he could die.

Battling against high-powered energy source
Pieces of debris kept knocking him off course
Mouthfuls of grimy water began filling his lungs.
Spluttering and fighting determined not to succumb.

He thought he was near, but she was not there.
At that moment he was filled with fear and despair.
Suddenly she appeared, as if God raised his hand.
Quickly he grabbed her and swam back to safe land.

His name he never gave or ever did mention
He quietly left not wanting any attention.
Tales of a hero who stepped into rapid murky water
Whose bravery saved the life of someone's young daughter.

Written 25.07.22
One in Five 2 Poetry Contest
Phrase Number 1  He was the first to step into the murky water
Sponser Joseph May
Form: Rhyme

What in you?

The near voice hight me down the slade
All searing whisper and the spluttering cascade
What's yonder in turf with a rolling heyday
O dearest love,is it you lying in this brae
I strove to see you from the lone mountain peak
What adrift in you,be daring and speak-
Like a flageolet that overtune the breeze
And a sweetest gilded jelly of buzzing bees
I knocked on the door; your heart of chamber door
Ever;evermore you were my dories oar
Coveted I and loved you with a love;ever
Tell me once,you felt my very heart but not never-
Consent me to linger in your magentaish garth
And we'll ever,be ever part our tepid hearth
Shall I compare you with the plenilune of evetide?
What lingers in you, be daring and confide
Shall I compare you with Helen before I adiue?
Be daring and speak what swathe in you
© Raj KUMAR  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Eve of Storms

EVE OF STORMS

As I look towards the horizon,
Without hesitation,
But with determined yet 
Heartfelt trepidation,
And see a distant angry
Storm forging forth
Its spluttering vicious curvaceous
Fearful advance holds my gaze
With historical ageless
Heartfelt emotions, 
That sink and dive,
And furl and curl, 
Knowing no one may survive!
Poseidon and Neptune take centre stage,
And Eve of storms unleashes wrath, 
Tempts oceans rage!
The beginning of time
Is about to meet Mythology
Eternity about to clash
With oceans and Astrology
The mystical ocean gods,
Meet Eve, the beginning of human 
Temptation, against all odds!
The reptile has achieved
Its evil aim and intent,
Causing chaos and fear 
Alone is it’s content.
The gods call upon God our Maker
To drown the serpent tormentor,
And quell this tidal wave
Ten storeys tall,
About to wipe out all, 
This massive water wall!
Eve of Storms has angered God
She had already lost the keys
To Paradise, now interferes
With Poseidon and Neptune,
The gods of seas,
God the omnipresent and the 
Only truth sends Eve back to Earth,
Is Eve of Storms,
Fiction, or myth people say,
But to this day
Whilst looking up
At starlit skies
We are no more the wise!

Labrador Bus Stop

On a whim a black lab waited
where other people do.
At a bus stop man created,
he smoked a cig too.

His paws outstretched ready to pounce
onto the shuttle of spluttering fumes.
He'd ran away and this was his last chance
to leave the humans painless; still humming their tunes.

This bus would take him to fields of squirrels
To an old friend he had played poker with
Where the loquacious woodpecker always trills
He'd have to do all this before his joints got stiff

Staying close to strangers legs,
He lifts one paw on.
The sight of his owners, he begs:
Will you please be gone?

I am dying, you cannot see,
you must not see ever.
You'll forget the posh afternoon tea.
Those traipsing, frolicking memories lost forever.

It's easier if you let me step on this bus,
Wave goodbye.
I'm still not sure what that does
but I know you'll always try.

Ears floppy, mouth drooling; sometimes I wish I'd played ball a bit more.
Eyes gloomy, paws aching; those times were never a bore.
Form: Rhyme

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