Mutters Poems | Examples

Wee Willy Winky is Creepy

Wee Willy Winky creeps about the town
Into children’s bedrooms he’ll be peeking.
Sometimes if he finds an open window,
into that child’s room he will go sneaking.

He fancies himself a Sandman.
But nothing like the Sandman is he.
No peace does he bring the sleepless kid
as he creeps about in hours that are wee.

He sprinkles no sand into sleepy eyes,
but he slides like a ninja beneath a child's bed,
then mutters low sounds that he thinks are soothing,
but he frightens most children instead!

“Go to sleep; go to sleep,” he sometimes whispers.
Children who hear this are filled with fear.
Too terrified are they to leave their bed.
They think that the boogeyman must be near.

Wee Willy Winky, you do nobody good
as you creep all around in your nightgown.
Some of those you visit get PTSD.
You ought to be jailed and banished from town.

Ala-Ka-Zammm

Ala-Ka-Zammm

There Once Was A
Palm Reader Who
Took Her Hands To
The Mooon!

Per-lang-guh-lang
Dang-ding Digie-Dong
A-Dang-Doong.

One Light Side
One Dark Side
Now Both Palms
At Once, In Her
Divine Magic Hands!

She Held Chance
Made It Dance!

To Whatever
Weeping Willow
Wanton Whispering
Whip-poor-whill's…
Wood Will.

Solid Will.


But Here, Oh Earthly
Mutters…
Curving Palms…
Carving Whims… 

With
Her 
Whimsy 
Well
Distracted…

With-In A Luna Kalla-Ka-Zooom!

-Gray Squirrel

08-17-2025

Tears Of A Clown

See that clown going around town,
with his big floppy shoes,
an orange wig,
a red nose so bright,
a haunting laugh.

He pulls a rabbit from a hat,
making everyone laugh.
A balloon dog walks like a puppet
into the arms of a little boy—
squealing with delight and fright,
he runs off with his new friend under his arm.

The clown looks around.
Mascara runs down his face.
A big splash—a heavy tear—
falls to the ground,
opening a tidal wave,
a puddle growing around his feet.

The smile becomes a frown.
The love of his life,
his Earth Angel, is now an angel—
watching from above.

He wipes his tears and mutters,
“This angel is for you.”
And lets go of the string.

An angel with a halo
rises—up, up, and up—
engulfed in big, fat white clouds.
A distant memory
brings a tiny smile.

See that clown going around town,
with his big floppy shoes,
an orange wig,
a red nose so bright,
a haunting laugh…

The clown of an angel,
living in heaven.

Loss of a Pearl

"You left footprints on my heart that can never be erased." - Unknown
****************************************************************
                             
                                               Loss of a Pearl

                                 In the dim SHADOW of moonlight
                                 She MUTTERS her wrath in sorrow
                                   As she looks for her rare JEWEL 
                                   Called up to the GATE of heaven
                                    In the very prime of his youth:
                                    Who can restore such a jewel!
                                  Who can console such a mother!

A Fistful of Minutes

"a breezy yet comfortable autumn day...ah, so lovely!" - quote by poet.


   his eyes flutter shut a fistful of minutes, 
    a much welcome respite into himself. 
 he sits in the shadow of a jacaranda tree.
 as he listens to the mutters of dry foliage, 
  a lone nightingale - nature's crown jewel -
cheerfully tweets sonorous melodies for him; 
      it's as if he's entered heaven's gate.

Silent hum of grief

My souls mutters in the muteness;
"Is my melancholy more melancholic than yours?"

I gaze across a bridge,
wondering which stream flows to you,
as nobody understands how 
in the definition of lament,
I am a piano without a pianist
and you a harp without strings.

My heart is a weeping willow
within a godforsaken garden.
As the last blossom decays,
the image of you is fading,
resembling fallen leaves on soggy ground.
I don't belong in this numbness,
nor know how to explain why 
my voice is lost in the vastness
of valleys without endless echoes.
I've forgotten what I wanted to say,
attempting to escape this maze of sorrow -
yet your words reverberate without resistance.

Pondering if your spirit will guide
me from this uncertain terrain,
I'm distracted by the silent hum of grief.
It hurts like an eerie lullaby, 
unable to soothe the stillness of your ghost.

As silhouettes disappear in the dimming light,
I protect a fragile flame in your remembrance,
before withered leaves fade into ash.

Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn

WINTER, SPRING, SUMMER, AUTUMN

 

- Suddenly, I awoke,

To the touch and feel of his able hands,

I rose to see a light burning ever,

Neither hot to smolder

nor cold to bother.

Suddenly I approached,

To the ray of light akin to his fable lies,

I felt the despair across the flowing waters,

A sign that mutters

O`what! starts a winter.

 

- Shedding along the path I tread,

I left behind every pain I dread,

Blowing against me; leaves of cherry blossoms,

Singing with me; birds who breath rebirth,

Seeking to find peace with every step,

In nature's arms I regress.


- I stood afront a lonely road,

Chasing after a dreamy boat,

I caught a smile that would not dim,

Spinning and shining on everyone and thing,

Like a sun whose rays illuminate,

I hoped to be a vacuum in which it radiates.

Life is fun with one so dear,

How beautiful could she get?,

Her dutchess sway and elegant glare,

Keeps my heart in evermore cheer.

 

- In the blink of an eye,

Everything gone,

In the cold of the night,

Wishes went undone.

Down with Put-Downs

Handing me his laptop
my older brother Ray says:
    “Hey, look at this!”

The screen goes black
so he mutters:
     “What'd y'do now?
     Here, give it back.”

He fiddles with something. 
My back hears his cold hint from the door -
     “Just look at the picture,
    DON'T touch the screen.”

But…

I’ve walked away without a word,
thereby leaving his put-down
where it belongs
in his lap.

Took me a long time to learn
I don’t have to listen
to arrogance or condescension.
I’ve learned to put down put-downs 
with ease.

Why wait for the name-calling like
"Ignoramus!" Just ignore Ray.
I quietly close the door.

Exhaustion

It ends with a crash.
Exhaustion.
It’s a wobbly feeling in my feet.
When I’m walking, on the sidewalk.
Three days ago, I slept.
But that notion is far away now.
I had so many opportunities to sleep.
With a blanket, and bed.
And comfort.
This feeling of my feet collapsing under me. 
It feels cold, and spreading.
The crowd mutters.
The crowd wonders.
The crowd makes me a spectacle.
My heartbeat.
My blood pressure.
When did I last sleep?
I don’t.

Love Not Blood

The shadow cast by twilight's breath,
A tale transpire, of life and death.
A refuge boy, adrift and torn,
From distant lands, in agony borne.

To Italy's shores, he finds his way,
Where ancient mutters softly sway.
Betwixt the olive groves, he's found,
By the hearts that beat with love unbound.

A grandfather, with eyes so wise,
Where sorrow dwells, and joy defies.
His children gone, to foreign lands,
He takes the boy into his hands.

In alleyways where whispers sigh,
They walk, beneath the azure sky.
The old man's love, a beam bright,
Guiding through the darkest night.

In vinery green, they find their rest,
A refuge in a world oppressed.
For in the embrace of love's refrain,
The refuge boy is born again!

Through labyrinthine streets they roam,
In search of comfort, not of home.
For blood may bind, but love endures,
In hearts that kindle sacred fires.

In Italy's embrace, they find their place,
Where love not blood, embellish their grace.
The refuge boy, now grown and wise,
Beneath Italian skies, he thrives.

Basket Case

A waste paper basket, a trash can, a bin
Whatever you call it, some things won’t stay in
The things that you write
Long into the night
May make, when discarded… one hell of a din

*

Don’t write by moonlight at midnight
Do not trash your tale late at night
For powers unseen
And terribly mean
May use it to give you a fright

I know, for it happened to me
I tell for I need you to see
I binned every word
And later I heard
A screech of malevolent glee

*

I lie wide awake in my bed
My discarded verse in my head
I tiptoe downstairs
With prickling neck hairs
For something smells like it’s long dead

A full moon sheds just enough light
In the room where I sit down to write
But somehow I know
It won’t let me go
This thing I created tonight

It lives for it never can die
I think I now understand why
I wrote about strife
My words gave it life
And you can’t kill words, though you try

The waste paper basket taunts me
It’s dark in the room but I see
A claw on its rim
My thoughts turn to Grimm
It mutters my name… and I flee

It's a Hummer

peach sun has come back
long hours of rain and thunder
hummingbird plunder

hued blooms gather with
the stunning jeweled wonder
stained rite of summer

noon pause for orange
and backwards flight aflutter
butterfly colors

rapid wing whispers
velvet time is life's usher
gold midday mutters

Death Fish in Key West

Scientists describe it as an event
In the hot paradise of Key West

Condos festivals hotels
Dancing feet under bells of lights
I’ve sung Margaritaville there
Myself

Beneath the docks

Pan fish spin in the new green pea sea
Mad somersaults
Alone
To their own kind of tambourine

Bring out your Dead
Bring out your Dead

14-foot Swordfish swish their tails
Beach themselves by the dawn of rails
Swim in the sandpaper sun’s preferable agony
A woman stands by cries and mutters
“I’m so sorry”

Reaches for his folded-over fin
Comfort to the roadside beggar

Sting Ray does the butterfly
Chops atop the ocean’s surface
Charges something unseen beating its wings
Battering the space where waves dot the sky
As if it were an archangel screaming
Stop it! Stop It!

To the Great False Prophet Anthropomorphism

Animals and plants are as human
As we
Without fingers and hands to see

All creatures speak from a conscience
Possess morals
If we’d listen from beyond our own shortcomings
And denial

The Key West fish are calling us
In plain language

Help us help us
We’re boiling to death.

Brink Part Two

Skater on black ice,
sheds a ghostly light,
under dark charcoal sky 
they weep and spin 
in magic bold rings 
but shriek with laughter
when sonic bells peal
as the nocturne candle 
flicker of spectators peer
at bright figure swerves
of glow worm carousel 
fly-by-night dream
mutters from lone star
lost in foggy curtain 
encircled by pier echos
hypnotic peak hour veil
deep inner self idol 
an otherworld eye feast
captured on spooky lens
enigma at its zenith

Leaves Are Leaving

From whitened trees, leaves are leaving
Releasing fall, color flutters
Upon the wind's icy mutters
With a ruby river weaving
Homage to a season's grieving


10/20/23

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