Short Clunk Poems

clink clunk permeates the night,
is me heart a pounding right,
teeth are gripping with me bite,
shut up johnson say goodnight...:)...

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Little bear expected to clunk his little soft head
But his mother was swift, she did not want him dead
She caught him with strong arms that were rather red....

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My puppy ran past me with purpose
I was thinking squirrel or rabbit
Relieved he returned empty mouthed

Not like the time he dropped a dead squirrel
At my feet in the living room
Frozen, it landed with a clunk next to my bare foot...

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Clunk, bang, splat
The flakes fell flat
Tumbling, racing, spin around
Punching through until the ground
Soft, heavy, errant flakes fall fast
Twirling in the freezing blast
Some crashed into the window pane
Slid down and melted once again...

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New Year
Drinks Beer

Gets drunk
Heads clunk

Drink over
Hangover

Feels sick
Loo quick!

Is ill
Needs Pill

To bed
Sore head

Morning
Dawning

Feels sad
Looks bad

Want drink…
Rethink!

1st January 2015...

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humpf zap zarathustra honks
jingle jangle splash 
                            shiin

doki doki 
             pada pada

clunk clank crash

snore snore

                 .......snore

tick tock tick


            bang bang bang 
                                   ROAR

shiin silence...

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Here I am at 9am
My laptop bloody dead
Can’t charge it cause of them
Feeling like a clunk head

Here I am on my chair
Face glued to the iphone
With nothing new to share
What I’ve learned from home

Here I am hearing words
Lacking meaning in my head
Gibber’s the merely verb
My lecturer has fed

Hope I don’t fall asleep
Counting the number of sheep...

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Poem about Sudbury, Ontario, Canada


Oh; it's spring in Sudbury
and the city wakes up.
There's a start of engines
and the day looks up.

You head out on the highway.
You're moving along.
Then a clunk by the wheel well
means your day's going wrong.

It's Spring here in Sudbury.
Construction going on.
It will last the whole year
and the road remains gone....

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cold has no time,  motion has no voice
 and it has been so long since the stones
 cried out in the open fields.  hardened 
 still cold stones whose only reflection is
  to bruise all flesh.

  graveyard vulgar granite lips have little faith.

  so the eulogy goes something like this. 

 he was always such a good drunk
 when empty bottles around him went clunk.

 happy as piss in a jar that is a wishin
 some raise a bottle others just miss him....

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Afternoons in winter;
When the hours seemed to drag, 
Were always made more bearable 
With grandma's button bag.

The sound is unmistakable, 
The rattle, ting and clunk, 
Of the decades of collected
Baubles, buckles, coins and junk.

Each button tells a story,
Where and when it was acquired, 
Those cut off coats and dresses, 
Mary years before admired.

The bag is full of memories
Stories from the past,
So we pass them to our children 
In the hope nostalgia lasts....

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