Stumps Poems | Examples

Around the Stump

Around the stump, some giant leaves
Are reaching for the sky,
In defiance of the forces
Which allowed that tree to die.

They grow within a little square
Of soil in the park,
A sister stump in its own plot,
Alone and looking stark.

Perhaps those trees were felled because
Of some rare plant disease,
But if some saplings took their place,
It might have helped appease.

Instead, the stumps remind us
Of what once stood tall and proud
And those giant leaves announce 
That Nature will remain unbowed.

Days End

Gentle lapping waters
roll sequentially onto shore,
like tiny crystals sparks, highlighted by the shining sun.

Blackened tree stumps 
stand 
like soldiers on watch.

A pelican,
skims the surface of the lake,
in search of tasty morsels lurking beneath murky waters.

The lazy dog basking in the sun
lifts an eyelid;
Undisturbed, 
he resumes his peaceful nap.

Camp fires send spiralling smoke puffs upwards,
carried away with the wind, 
followed by another smoke signal.

The sandy banks,
with mounds of trodden turrets lay in wait,
for creatures on dusk patrol
seeking nightly nourishment.

The setting sun slowly sinks, 
sending sliver shimmers across the lake.

Again, nightfall descends.
Another day closes.

Tandoori or Tangerine Tan shorts no4

Cohorts of suits distort

Court the last resort

Damnation of immigration

Onslaught in cahoots cavort


Pander to propaganda slander

Escort darker fraught faces

From other races caught

To starker places.. shunted

Hunted like a sort of sport 


History debunked

“Before” skunked & kerplunked

Lore of Yore junked


Fossil fuel full sumps

Well More is More

Trees flump become clumps 

Of gnarly snarly stumps


Petrol pumps pour

Sheriffs thumps any grumps

Tariffs Gazumps…prices soar

Ready for the final encore?

Forest of Lost Dreams Felled

I wandered through the forest felled.
Its stumps arrayed as scars.
Its bird song larks forever quelled,
to axed-silent memoirs.

Remnants of trees are now a maze,
traced by entrails of mists.
Curling up as veils between leaves,
that once held memories.

The moon's face shunned, shamed.
The wind scurried all around,
the graves of trees blatantly maimed,
along paths no feet had ground.

The forest of trees, lost its leaves.
Lost its old trunks of dreams.
Lost all its shade and shadows cast,
to vast bright white clearings.

I saw the ancient remnant dells,
spared of incumbent trees,
get crowded out by death-neath spells,
of clearings, felled down to knees.

A Nurse Dies in a Far Away Land

The leather tethers kept loosening.
I had to pull at them until
they dug into your body
binding you to a rocking cross.

It was all for nothing
you died snapping at unseen knives,
arching up, bending time into
frozen waves.

You once said you were Irish/Scots,
Appalachian.
You called yourself: Applachan.
Sinewy girl --- wiry poppy stems
in you, and engine oil
to soften tenacious roots.

The fever racked you up.
It shook your bones loose.
It blossomed,
pouring you out
in thimbles of awareness.

In those intervals,
blue hills filled your eyes
with summer rain.
I would talk to you of Ireland.
We went there on that last night.
We made a hasty camp
in the dream felled woods,
the deep raw stumps
were already greening.

Then I watched,
and kept watching
as feeble death broke its teeth
on your blood.

Murky Mists of Narcissists Trysts

Varnished Tech Titans
Tattered totems tarnished
Viral tribal bible spiral
Tainted talismans taunted
Cash cows flaunted
Gerontocracy trumps democracy
Theocracy stumps hypocrisy
Autocracy dumps diplomacy
Haunted schism prism
Vaunted Fat Cats
Enigma?…just
Dogma & Stigma
Tit for Tats
Martian Martial law
Doff your hats
To techno-*wats
And petro-*rats
Deplore or Encore?
Poor Planet in flux
All about the bucks
Ersatz Fat Cats
Well More is More!

The Bum and The Mob Boss

Savaging what he has left 
after the mafia takes his last 
bowl of soup his last slice of 
bread his last cup of coffee 
the mob boss then gives the 
bum a cigarette and a light 
pats him on the shoulder 
tells him to keep warm its 
cold out here drives off 
the mob boss then douubles 
back around and ask the bum 
for change for the parking 
meter the bum reaches in 
his pocket with worn finger tips 
torn gloves and give the 
mob boss his last dime 
and says take it that's it 
that's all I have the mob boss 
scratches his head and says 
are you sure this is your 
last dime the bum replies 
yes I'm sure take it you need 
it way more than me now stunod
stumps I’m your new Boss Bum
now do you got any change

Devilment is Afoot

Leaves of the oak trees congregated in clumps of whispering soldiers
A devilment was afoot; the fey felt this and scurried to the meadow.
Someone was dragging a heavy sack into the darkest shadows.
The night shuddered, recognizing the evilness of the scoundrel.

Perfect place to hide a body, most agreed. Those who were brave to look.
Others hid behind stumps and rocks, hoping the culprit’s thirst was sated.
He has been here before, always leaving flesh that turns to putridness.
Finally whitening and stiffening into a stick-like corpse.

The evil doer did not give the trees or the sack a backward glance.
This was his dumping ground; he felt no reverence for it in the least.
A place to leave the shell of the people he hunted and killed.

Still Unattainable

Beloved, 
again, I bargain 
with my unbridled mind,
seeking to find 
a smile 
wider than time,
and wild eyes 
like mossy tree stumps, 
gliding against light,
in exchange 
for all of 
my recollection's 
regrets combined.

A stranger's 
divergent eyes 
always disappoint, 
pointing away from 
the maze of memories 
that light up 
a late father's reflection. 

Bashfully inadequate, 
I project pity upon 
those understudied features,
each seemingly 
inferior to familiarity.

An uncomfortable stare 
doesn't prepare one 
for the despair of 
a persistent 
preoccupation 
with 
what is not there.

March 8, 2025

Hurricane Trump

Hurricane Trump when made landfall
The commotion spelled heavy toll --
His big-ticket orders
Flashed red on the borders,
Watches he in triumphs
Wickets fell around stumps,
Sure, warming was ne’er more global. 
_______________________
Happenings |36.01.2025| humour, USA

Note: On the very day he took presidential oath, Trump signed a slew of executive orders: exiting WHO and Paris Accord, national emergency on southern border, visa curbs, barring asylum, et al. He almost issued a global warning, and the warming never looked more global.

CORPORAL PUNISHMENT AT SCHOOL

On the sport’s field we started to set up  
To play cricket but the ground was hard 
And the stumps would not go in. So my mate  
Used the cricket bat to hammer them home. 

The game’s master was soon upon the scene,
Shouting. “That’s no way to treat the willow,
You cretin.” Sir then snatched the cricket bat
And with hefty sideways swipe cracked my mate
Across the head. The lad collapsed and was 
Shaking violently, lying on the ground.
Then his shaking stopped and he was still.

The whole team went silent and stood and stared.
Then one lad shouted: “He’s dead. You’ve killed him. 
You’ll be hanged for murder”. Sir was silent.
He looked worried. But the victim came round.
He then stood up, a bit wobbly and we 
Carried on with our game of cricket.

The Halt and the Lame

Some old guy on a park bench
looks like Jesus,
if Jesus had lived to be some old guy.
I'm old, not really, really old
but I look older than that guy on the bench.

From his coat pocket
he scatters crumbs among the pigeons.

The birds are diseased, they got warty stumps for legs.
I know what stumps look like; seen way too many.

He looks at me and winks.
I don't think he's gay; don't care anyway.

I think he can read my mind,
because he just laughs and laughs
as if I had just told the best damn joke ever.

The pigeons rise up and fly away.
It's a beautiful sight,
sunlight speaks through their wing feathers.
Every one of them sick birds is beautiful.

I’m so caught-up in the moment
I forget about disease or stumps.

I still don’t get the joke - never will, I guess.

Who am I

the question
who am I
stumps our mind

no problem
just be still
shift to heart

pulse dual
disappears 
truth is known

Yesterday's Wishes

I wished for trails not strewn with roots
nor rocks and stumps that trip a careless step
- and thought of how 'twould be so kind
for life to benefact a tidy sum so -
I could rise and yawn each dawn
upon the feathered bed of paradise?

and - what of love, wherein the perfect mate
shares life without regret nor question?

we stride, in our expectations,
in our dreams and wishes - so nonchalant
yet, perfection grows its tenebrous roots
     that seize the shallow steps
we never thought would matter,
  until we fell and wished to simply
              ...get up...

Chats in the Car

Chats in the Car
We never drive far
May be over the mountains
As the wheels meet the tar

And the bugs find their end
Round each terminal bend
Yet no fly in the ointment with
Conversational friend

We steer around obstacles
We navigate bumps
The pot-hole conundrums,
Of love, never stumps 

We won't get a ticket 
For our speeding or risks
No concerns with this friendship
From detectors or frisks 

I could drive through the night
With you here by my side
It's a wonderful journey
Such a comforting ride

Don't know if we'll arrive
Or the point of it all
But I just count you as blessing
Whether top speed or crawl

For the moments, so fleeting
Are too precious to waste
If we have to conclude this
Let's not get there in haste

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