Shamble Poems

iMan - Apr 13

Observe the modern generations walk
on by; they suckle from the plastic teat
of coffee cups, and stumped by stamping feet
they shamble unaware from flock to flock.—

infant adults—if earnest I may speak;
Look there: one loops in circles (a grand feat!) 
and, as if an ornithological suite,
the gaggle shuffles behind,—“squawk squawk squawk!”

Yikes… I suppose that if I ran at ‘em 
they’d scatter faster than frightened pigeons.—
Wouldn’t even need to make the barest noise,
merely the sight of a threatening poise
is enough to disperse their religions
(yes—religions—phony, false—“fun”:—numb!).

What It Means To Poetry

In the world of poetry
Words are running out okey
Everything is stable
The meaning portrayed in fable
Some words are shamble in juxtaposition
Makes you burn up in depression
For romantic one, poetry is healing
For a heart's relief that's needing.

Broken Line

I've been on the wrong line
My whole life in shamble
Along the way each one of them 
Broke, broke, broke
On every line until now
No matter how many lines are broken
I can always fix this broken lines myself.

Pain

Pain, an agony
Drill, ache and break my nausea
My patience shamble.

Had Found Home in a Shamble Horn Haiku

when poems did disable
even though they were stable
closed each and would table

when we would call Paul
he slipped while in shower stall
poorly landed on ping pong ball

when we did gamble
would rock, roll and ramble
found home in a shamble

Hil's Quill

Hil’s Quill!
Hilary’s anvil is not still,
John is her forge & bellows,
Ellie & Spencer, Melli, Will, Sam & Allie,
Give Hil an answer to all,
Hill Bill’s pinnacle to the cynical below,
Her familial nest is the “Bee’s Knees”,
The light to Hil’s candle,
Deepens Life’s shallows,
Who is Happy? She who in her own Rejoices!
The news leads to thoughts of “Shamble”,
Good is to be listened to, Hallowed,
Abundance is already in our “Juices!”,
Being mindful of Good is often without a Handle,
Create music! Singing is allowed!
Hear your Muses,
Make a wish! Barbara & I scramble,
In blessing our Hil: “May all Tension be Loose!”
When hearing “Growls”, Remain Endowed!

Love Troll

schoolyard drama scene
unrequited love shamble 

one calico tear

Rough Shod

A floor of dead rusted leaves rustle and crackle
Crunching their crisp skins dancing under my feet
Shuffling with sodden soil thick with grit - I grapple
With sticky dew grass and spongy peat

Alligatored tree bark grabs my hands then bites as I shamble
Holding on for balance on uneven chards of scalloped stone
Dazed by the cool dark mist in this early morning amble
I am rough shod but heart happy right down to my bones!

Stand-N-Soak

Docked your own can it tote-n-land home
Locked unknown antidote to amp the mode 
Clamped-n-sewn your stamp will show 
Plan it slow in a long tramp you know
Boat the load and camp your stow
Go for broke to brand a glow
Sold your joke now stand-n-soak
Hold folk accountable and count your table
Don't poke a mountable route make a staple
Flow on ropes tight like cable
Low-n-behold a dangle blame angle
Won't hold me-n-strangle in a shame shamble
That’ll level the bevel playing field left disheveled
Hips shoveled as his groveled  
It’s bliss behold miss molted 
Changes skin manages kin 
Estranges them bandages again 
Rearranges agendas to gain
Free ranges attendance scars remain
Eerie chances dependence hard refrain 
Flee dances of steep step stances 
Weep wept lands won’t weaken plans 
We keep kept cans to seep sunken strands

Specifying Defying

lets give it a shape
twisted lines of 3-d scribbles
starts and ends nose to tail
maybe
marshmallow squidges syphoned through gossamer ether
missed mist of missing moments

nope how about colour

black and greys that shamble between each other
blushing pinks with lips of rogue rouges
Golden slips that shimmer with simpering sympathies
Blacks of oil slick sins and surrenders
yells of yellows bloated blues
kinda missed again

no shapes no sides
no hues to tag its worth
easier to describe the blessings of the wind
the dribble on the chin
tell the end of the begin
holding tear upon the eyelid
sometime shown others hid

when pain begins to turn
the abyss beauty viewed from within
feverishly cold
intensively simple
intimately confused
the touch that must be felt
braces with a belt
insanity making reality melt
love is what

Shh Mama Is Painting Today

My rooms are a wreck, total disarray.
I have clothes that don’t fit – some other day.
My garage has critters, mice of course.
I am painting today – a giant pink and orange horse.

I have three junk drawers in my shamble of a kitchen.
Paint us! Yell three faeries, and I don’t want them bit’chn.
It is five thirty p.m. and my husband is fixing supper for himself.
I just finished my third painting; it is drying on the shelf.

My car is out of gas, this can be done another day.
My cat needs fed, he is meowing away!
Shh! I tell him, Mama is painting today.
My husband who professes to not like cats is running his way
With shrimp, lobster, and tuna. 
What can I say?

Gamble

I am born today
On the fringe of infamy
In the wake of tragedy
And I shall have my say
About your world.

I am born of peace
The melee is shattered
The womb is battered
And I take my lease 
On your world.

You hand me your shamble
You bid me God speed
You've planted the seed
And I'll take the gamble
In your world.

The Walk

Walking becoming overcoming.
Orion becomes Jesus walking on water.
Trek trudge and stumble, taking it in stride.
Bearing a cross of torment and torture.
Struggling slogging shepherding,
slaving in blood mixed tears. 

Walking through light and shadow.
Sleep meandering, dreams seamlessly
mingle with stumbling lumbering,
slumbering shamble, ambling ramble.
Roving roaming range, radius reached,
realms always remembered.   

Walking the footpath through rainforest.
Sizzling amour fou ardor, fevered fervor.
Lascivious among the leaves,
captive to carnality. 
Fleshly forbidden found only 
in the taboo soil of impulses.

Walking in the aurora of first light.
Sprinting agape beneath spectral wavy prismatic sky.
Darting dashing driving toward a new day.
Racing rushing for radiant rays wrapping the horizon.
Igniting the dark, blazing the trail in a neonate morning,
advancing the awaiting adventure.

Walking with friends and lovers.
Parading promenading propelled plantigrade.
Globetrotting every continent, every consideration,
every awareness and attentiveness. 
The common blanket sweeping overall.
Let the celebration of being begin.

Slapdash Fellows At the Shamble Saloon

in the city of York, an English town
odd old buildings of russet brown
surround damp streets of cobblestone
pathways finding the party zone

jesters strike around half past noon
slapdash fellas crash the shambles saloon
with a splish splash, they dab a bath 
the last stop on their dead-beat path

zag scalawags like to rally
at a mish-mash mosh pit sally
peaking the patter of jibber-jabber
through chit-chat and blasé blabber

the tip-top flip-flop clip clap crowd
are to the man vocally self-endowed
their tight tongues tied in a tangle
wag with rhythmic jingle jangle 

hip hop beats on the radio
shadow rhythms entwine in stereo
with tic toc crisscross tapping toes 
lift a cadence from depths below

when two pass noon at the shambles saloon
the characters mirror a black cartoon
days pass and quietly echo
dark portraits show tin art deco

The Shambles

One day I appear in the supermarket
in sweatpants and T.

Stained nocturnal, I drive my son to a concert,
then sleep in that T, eat breakfast in that T,
wear that T all day,
shamble into the night.

I have entered the middle,
the shambling center
that is the patched heart
of aging.

Days are thrown together,
nights hang on the backs of a chairs,
rumpled mornings enter the evening
unchanged.

• Short Shamble Poems
• Famous Shamble Poems
• Best Shamble Poems
• Read Shamble Poems
• Long Shamble Poems
• Shamble Quotes