The beautiful Amazonian forest
surrounds me,
It's crispy, clean air envelopes me, and hungrily I inhale,
This New Year, the echoes of fear still in my soul, one by one, eagerly I exhale,
To the gentle, cool breeze,
I softly whisper, "Drown them all in the depths of the sea."
Among the lushness of its canopy,
there is a riot of colours dotted everywhere,
Lost in its serenity and silence,
Abruptly, prattling sounds suddenly brought me back down to reality,
A pandemonium of Amazons appeared.
In this New Year with a soul now free
from fear,
I shall enjoy each step of the way, for
time draws near,
No fuss or worry, just going with the
flow,
Appreciating the beauty in each day,
as they come and go.
by Zyrool
2/2026
garrulous Gary never pauses for breath
his blabbing with prattling will cause his death
he will hear a murderer sneak
for all Gary does is speak, speak, speak, speak, speak
Planet in flux…it sucks
No refuge..Scrooge rules..
Stooges subterfuge deluge..
Fossil fuel fools..
Poleaxes..then relaxes…
As the earth burns..
As it turns..on its axis..
***************
Us schmucks battling....
Puzzling...prattling clucks...
Aloof to proof....daft defiance..
Shucks the sleuth of science..
**************
Glower at their ivory tower..
Cruise ship trip fillip..
Dour baby boomer power..
******
Absurd herd..cans compliance
Uncouth trampling truth..
Nip & tucks alliance..
Mottled rucks…throttled petro bucks...
Plucks for retro reliance..
*******
Muzzling…weasel hatchets meddling...
Diesel guzzling trucks..
Saluting high falutin polluting
Pander to propaganda pedaling..
Ratchets up our dander…
Open the ruddy window!
Have a bloody gander!
The present prince of Prussia prances proudly
With preaching priests, while prattling proles suppress
The primal pressure to prank the pretext
Of proper praise for the precious primate.
Posters painted
By law tainted
Rosaries rattling
Prayers prattling
Police swoop
Spirits droop
Whisked away
Because they pray
For children unborn
Innocent lives shorn
In abortion clinics
Cold cash for callous cynics
Some sounds are
sinewy toes scratching drum skins,
a pigeon shuffle-dance on unseen roofs,
a clatter in the flap and coo.
Rose bushes are mute,
until they have lost their heads
then they squeak and squawk.
A soft-slap of junk mail onto an empty hand,
paper wings falling in an overheard flutter.
Some sounds remind of…
dead-space clambering up a blank wall,
chicken bones rattling in the bubbling-boil;
the sound of deranged harpsichords.
Other sounds are knuckles cracking
under cliffs of silence.
The stuttering oaths of paws gripping
ice.
The ratatattat scrabble of cats
chasing rats.
Sleep prods ribs until they break-up
with the prattling night,
ear-bones surface, deafened
by the cutting edge of a yammering light.
Near the forest green trees there is a stream-
On its silvery waters eager frogs croak loudly.
Quack quack go the numerous conversing ducks,
While splish splashing from day to citrine day!
An orange gold sun comes down to touch the hills,
As the woods abound with musical treetop thrills.
A slithering snake hisses at the sizzling heat,
Of lush summertime come to absolute standstill!
In the midst of enchanting life I went walking;
And wherever I roamed I heard animals talking.
And ruby throated hummingbird commenced humming,
In response to the engrossed honeybees' buzzing.
A multicolor hibiscus opened with the dawn sun,
At just the moment woodland prattling had begun!
Rattling rain drops,heists our sleep at mid night
Settling on tops,over the roofs from a width height
Prattling quickly stops, whence I catch his sight
Curling his mops of hair with my fingers a bit tight
Battling cold, hops out when he hugs me in dim light
Tackling him,slops sweat,continually in the twilight
Troubling,he cops pleasure kissing me with might
Bowling love crops stress,making us look bright.
6-7-2020
Note2:Triple Rhyme poetry Contest.(N/A)
Placed as Honourable Mention in the contest.
Note2: Strand Completely New (20),
Any Form,Any Theme Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand.
In confession today
What will I say
In confession today?
That I didn’t pray –
How long will you stay
In confession today?
What will I say
In confession today?
That I left my rosary beads at home
To benediction I didn’t come –
Ah curse you!
How long will you stay
In confession today?
What will I say
In confession today?
I forgot my Hail Mary-
I don’t like him – he’s scary!
How long will you stay
In confession today?
What will I say
In confession today?
I didn’t take off my hat-
Well fancy that!
I think this amadan
Will stay all day in confession today
What will I say
In confession today?
Perhaps the question is –
Will I have my confession today?
That eejit is still yapping on-
Going – going – gone!
He’s been there
For ten minutes at least
Just prattling to the priest
I think there’ll be
No confession today-
This chatterbox
Has booked his seat
In the confession box
At last he’s coming out-
What’s this all about?
He’s still blathering!
Will he ever give over?
At last I can go in
And get penance for my sin
But that cretin
Has made me forget
What I should say
In confession today
4.1.15
LONG THURSDAY WAIT
Thursday end of work way home.
Next bus ten minutes far under the elevated railway.
Wait in the dark and turn up collar :
Tolerate this solitude of evening grey.
Worse was waiting as she arrived at length -
Suddenly I felt the deep sea of weakness.
Faced by her, I became an empty sack of strength,
Listening unwilling to her prattling problems.
Until the hour hand struggled up to my door.
Rattling voice ceased to offend the silent street.
Turn the well-oiled key in smooth lock once more;
Close out the empty sack; breathe in the bright solitude.
31 March 2020
I heard a prattling rattling battling noise
In my children’s room, in the midst of their toys
Slurp and Shriek
Dancing deep
A battling ram came out and gave me a peek
Was that a battling ram? I asked my imaginary friend.
She threw flowers on me and refused to bend.
Dived into the toys
Making even more noise
I had to drag her out when she began to shriek.
What are you doing in there? Yelled the only adult in the house.
I figured it was my husband not a big mouse.
I saved myself
By parking my butt on a shelf
Pretending to be a doll, wearing my very best blouse
The slurps and the shrieks went on for awhile
Imaginary Sally and I had started to smile
Husband came in and took a peek
But ran out again when he heard a shriek
Written: March 14th, 2020
Contest: A Rattling Rhyme 2
Sponsor: Nina Parmenter
I yelled like a banshee
that night as rain mauled a tin roof.
She laid as if dead on the bloodied bed,
already slipping wall-eyed into indifference.
The midwife shouting over the drumming,
the Irish priest humming a prattling prayer;
my gums screeching blue murder.
Inside the shack a lit-up secret
and a shrinking Catholic dogma.
They feel it, the odor of unsanctified sex,
that salty itch that made me,
while under their skins
as if I were a rash,
I crawl over their exposed nerves.
They are all gone, the hypocrites,
the abettors, the judged,
all down under the peat now,
except for the hushing rain,
the last dim-day whispers.
Sandwiched by the lies spread through your body
what would it look like if you saw it as whole
whole like a loaf of bread...sliced front to back,
sections missing when the chef goes hunting
vagaries of form light on the moonlit night rhythms of fireflies
positively negative impressions prejudice our eye’s glance of plus or minus
defining an outline of shadowed presence barely known here at all
danced through the trees, enraptured by outline’s disguise she appears and
disappears... swaddled whole groves stand at attention awaiting orders
underground rivers moving slowly in time shape the insistence of land
illusions of spatial bound threads harmonize irregularities of mind
consequential prattling pervades discourses of old guard and new
Queen’s knight to black Bishop...strategic placement instructs magic’s game
In the name of...all that is and has been...no longer forever more.
SYMPOSIA
There will be upcoming international symposia
on the emerging technology of efficient fastener.
This is my idea and I am acting as the convener,
kept the topic open, not restricted only to zipper.
This is personal invitation from me to you to come
as you will surely find the deliberations interesting
for there will be eminent delegates demonstrating
new techniques of binding as the recent invention.
You will benefit to learn skill of tying by taking part
for a fascinating session will be organized in the end
on the ways how the chattering lips can be fastened
if your spouse cannot keep the prattling mouth shut.
August 25, 2018
(I hope the end words of the outer
lines of each stanza are similar in sound)
Here we are.
In the Glass Castle.
Hurling our baby teeth at the ghosts that mirror back at us when we forget to keep our eyes shut to the flames that forged our cage.
I’m writing hymns in blood on the walls-
hoping Angels can read backward.
And you’re laughing at the way I shiver as I grow colder despite the glaring light surrounding the Incubus we built in this woken dream.
And as the Chimera rears his head-
his eyes savoring the flame.
I hum through teeth made of foolish wisdom.
Hoping they don’t crack when they collide with the truth my tongue shudders out.
But you.
You just crawl on the floor, naked and unmarred by the life forced dripping from the barriers that keep us from falling into nothing.
Collecting the enamel of our youth.
Just to toss them back.
And laugh at prattling futility of trying to break down walls that are already shattering.
-James Kelley 2018
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