Tarpaulin Poems | Examples

Umbrella

In the rain some people are salt.
Then, dissolving like one they should halt:
That God had okayed Rainfall no fault;
My challenge to delay Destined Vault…

The coldest rains could invite that vault,
One’s exposed head to it obvious fault
Does it matter that one is no salt 
What you should stop a go-ahead to halt…

Then, for the living umbrella
No skipping Confined Cinderella,
Nor restricting it to Gabriela
Nor “You can’t have one, Ursula!”

A device for springing it open
Any time you want this to happen
And what you’d see: Dome-Shaped Tarpaulin:
A shade for all folks, not just Pauline…

Umbrella all thunderstorms could ravage
And one could hear Umbrella “Savage!”
At one’s service as a walking stick
With it bad legs can distances lick…
The usually easily misplaced
But not as easily the replaced;
After a pounding rain has held off
And from minds a need for it switched off…

A’s family is A’s Umbrella:
Protect one from germs: Salmonella.
The holes in its tarpaulin stitch up:
Droplets from them could start a hiccup…

The Whale That Swam the Thames

It was thought the young whale was pregnant
confused as she was and out of her depth.

They waded into the river to help,
floated rubber rafts to buoy her up.
Marine experts posited ways
to keep her breathing in shallow waters.

In dockyard pubs
hard men openly spoke of her plight,
voices low and humorless
as they test-drove new technical jargon.

When she died;
rolling in the pebbly shallows
we threw a tarpaulin over her
as if she were a human cadaver.

We had televised everything,
implemented elaborate plans,
recorded last moments with ripples of hope.
Later we watched the sluggish waves
wash away her long drowning.

~~~~~
https://www.ctvnews.ca/world/young-whale-trapped-in-london-s-river-thames-euthanized-1.5421060

Draft Tarpaulin

once more the rainbow paints in anthracite colour

graphite expressions of grave charcoaled remains

the lost beauty of obscure pastels is shadowed in pain


the horizon threatens rational geometry in obtusion 

bursts cohesion and kindness at all angles and seams

refuses to square the cycle of life flattens its resolve


yet the philosophy of love prevails over all illusion

perspectives are formed in the heart-mind of souls

painters are mere reflections of palettes and canvas


24th October 2021

An Autumn Tarpaulin

Thoughts of the past beneath trees shade deep sighs
as leaves rain above relax ambience.

A mountain gravel path laced in pigments
freckle crimson, copper, and honey gold
striking crisp blithe as soft waves of fluttering
pinnate leaves still battle for existence
on living limbs, an autumn tarpaulin.
The rise of dust beneath the evergreen,
the rushing timbre cool river against
gravel and rocks banks deep flowing downhill.

A moment adorned in an heirloom time
a bouquet of many autumns that chime;
joy of many early dawns.
Mother deer with newborn fawns
arousing out epic world in springtime.

10/15/2021

Third stanza  a serious Limerick 

Let's Mix It Up Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France

Hot,Hot,Hot

Hot. Hot. Hot.
It’s so hot out here,
I’m taking off all me clothes.
Gonna connect it to the tap
And got under a cold hose.
I jiggle my bits about,
Which is not a pretty sight.
But it is my own garden.
Isn’t that alright?
Out comes a mortified hubby,
Letting out an almighty groan.
“Can’t you see the neighbours watching?
Now they are on the phone.”
He rushes in to get a towel,
The biggest he can find.
He comes out with a tarpaulin 
Now that’s a bit unkind.
Then we hear the sirens 
Progressing up the hill.
Outside they park their paddy wagon,
This seems like overkill.
“ Come along madam
Kindly move aside.
It’s so hot in that wagon 
We all very nearly died.”
One by one they came,
Grabbing at me hose.
After taking off their uniforms 
And folding up their clothes.
Then fighting for the spray 
It turned into a brawl,
Not sure if this is normal 
For I’ve never seen a policeman’s ball!!!
                ????? ????? ????? ?????

Inklings

Shadows are but sign posts, 
fleeting moment capsules, 
brown leaf portent creeper‘s auto-pilot,
tarpaulin-sky mist draped on ancient chapel spire,
worship at the coat tail of a wrinkled orange rind lantern,
oak wood clouds smoulder from their taproot ash to blur the camera shutter,
sonneteer who mines a rock salt crystal,
earthly grain-squeeze imitation pearl,  
false trail bard whose basket weave of catalysts hint at lustrous form,
but still we wind-blown minstrels hanker for those dermal layer meters cast ashore.

Stateless

Red undulating plain.
Blue tarpaulin.  
Little orange tree. 

Rice
Red Cross
On my plate.
Rohingya mouth.
This yellow dal. 

Journalists, but
Admire 
My agony  
Distress pictures
Better!   

Stateless boy 
Singing 
'Future'.
Silly song 
Atop the Black rock.

Astronomical Encompassing

Awaiting bristled whisper of ghost jounced leaves
Lain gazing galaxies far from terra's tarpaulin roof 
Exciting diamonds claw for cosy navy ink reprieve 
Hark my insignificance in succinct majesty's truth


Hushed by muchness, my warmth absorbs His plenty
Lapped by luminous lure, iced gateau half eaten moon 
Crumbled among sudden calm of Master's immensity
Awash in melodic acknowledgement, midnight's tune


Flung hungry flouresce of surged fireflies fighting 
Tenure very temporary, attempt to reach realisation 
Spread as cake laden table, sugary array imbibing 
Drunk on the gifts of gateau smile faced dedication 


Heavy sun slumbers elsewhere, heat not apparent 
Reality rests unreadable, dispelled from night haven
Swum in wonder of dark desire, denying my errant
Shot stars instrusive find my heart entirely enslaven





               19th October 2020 


    Written for Contest : Collaboration 
           Sponsored by: Silent One

The Whale That Swam Up the Thames

It was thought she was pregnant
confused as she was
and out of her depth.
They waded into the river to help.
They floated rubber rafts to buoy her up.
Marine experts posited ways 
to keep her breathing in shallow waters.

In dockyard pubs
hard men openly spoke of her plight,
voices low and humorless
as they test-drove new technical jargon.
When she died;
rolling in the pebbly shallows
we threw a tarpaulin over her
as if she were a human cadaver.
We had done our best, had televised everything,
implemented elaborate plans,
recorded last moments with ripples of hope;
watched the sluggish waves
wash away her long drowning.

Friday the Thirteen

Friday the thirteen

Is the day when ancient sailors meet in silent jubilation
on the island of Saragossa, they walk to the island’s highest top
and when the fog lifts, can see strange ships out there
ships full of containers with no deck- room for a jig.
They hope none of the ships will run aground it will only attract attention.
settlers will come, build on their land and plant potatoes.
Where are the ancient sailors going to live? Inside walls or under tarpaulin,
soon the fog will descend obscure the island and leave them in peace.

Colour

COLOR
Color is an agent,
Of beauty,
We use it in beautifying,
Our body.
 It’s like flowers,
It’s used in decorating our 
Buildings.
It’s like perfumes,
It add value to our,
Body, and it is attract the nature, 
But when mixed with water,
 It becomes like,
 Soured soup.
It is like a,
White shirt,
When durst touches it,
It becomes like unclean
Tarpaulin,
Some are cleanable,
 While some are unclean able 
Oh!
Yee poets and barristers,
Tell the E.F.C.C and 
The I.C.P.C,
That is better to pit on
Colorful cloths,
Then to go necked. 
Tell,
The doctors not,
To be like Michael Jackson,
Tell the angelic not to,
Be like infant birds,
Tell the church worshipers,
Like Daniel Ogberi and his,
Wife to put on their,
Red hair cover,
Tell,
Pastor Chris Oyakilome to,
Put on his colorful white suit,
And his white shoes,
For it is better to change,
Our cream, 
To change our body 


THEMES
1.	Changes 
2.	Seriousness
3.	Unchangeable
4.	Determination
5.	Repentance 

Written by poet Virginus ndubuisi.

Beauty

COLOR
Color is an agent,
Of beauty,
We use it in beautifying,
Our body.
 It’s like flowers,
It’s used in decorating our 
Buildings.
It’s like perfumes,
It add value to our,
Body, and it is attract the nature, 
But when mixed with water,
 It becomes like,
 Soured soup.
It is like a,
White shirt,
When durst touches it,
It becomes like unclean
Tarpaulin,
Some are cleanable,
 While some are unclean able 
Oh!
Yee poets and barristers,
Tell the E.F.C.C and 
The I.C.P.C,
That is better to pit on
Colorful cloths,
Then to go necked. 
Tell,
The doctors not,
To be like Michael Jackson,
Tell the angelic not to,
Be like infant birds,
Tell the church worshipers,
Like Daniel Ogberi and his,
Wife to put on their,
Red hair cover,
Tell,
Pastor Chris Oyakilome to,
Put on his colorful white suit,
And his white shoes,
For it is better to change,
Our cream, 
To change our body 


THEMES
1.	Changes 
2.	Seriousness
3.	Unchangeable
4.	Determination
5.	Repentance 

Written by poetOkonkwoVirginus.

Puppeteers

Puppeteers

In cavalcades of bulletproof cocoons
all aspects of our lives they can control
they own all that you have except your soul
the sharply suited pipers call the tunes.
Exchanging every privilege and boon,
in freedom's name to dominate, their goal,
unleash fierce ordinance to take it's toll
fruits of their machinations now lie strewn.
Far off, survivors of their bombs and guns
crouch , huddled in a maze of shattered walls,
tarpaulin shades family from the sun,
parents can't quiet hungry baby's call.
A world away, when all is said and done
the price of one gold watch could feed them all.

27th October 2015
Basic Italian ( I think)- 
octave, abba abba
sestet- cdcdcd

Living In Tompkins Park In the Late 80

not one to judge I do not wear the sober robe
as my past less than pristine i lived a life of no riley
never begging for a meal I was given plenty
for the trade to be me with no greed
freedom a difficult journey as you have to pay the price
of your mistakes with pride and no fear to chose the streets
and no compromise to look in a mirror and give yourself a smile
as you never lost your generosity in the dire of hard time
the sky protecting you sleeping on a bench and a blue tarpaulin 
a bounty to keep you dry on snowy nights and friends visiting you as
they worried more than you were knowing that you had to reach the bottom to climb back the ladder.

Mum Explains Grasshopper Forebears

MUM  EXPLAINS GRASSHOPPER  FOREBEARS

Your daddy? Well, he had no money ,
Was skinny and boney, but just gorgeous, Honey,
A real grasshopper’s grasshopper.
Spent his days, unafraid to come a cropper,
Hiding on a cornstalk in a field (you probably heard)
Listening out for combines or a hungry bird.

Your papa learned to hop...junior grade..right and proper
Then was  quickly promoted  to senior hopper,
But oh dear  he went on  vacation in Mexico 
One of those impulse things, you know :
Free ride in a truck, camping under tarpaulin,
But ended up as a  chapuline*

His brother  Joe was another hunk  -
Defied the catcher  nets – he had *****.
Fancied him myself (before your dad),
But he was too wild, adventurous, real bad.
Most famous member of our family was Uncle Joe  - 
(Now under glass in the botanical museum,  Ohio.)
.........................................................................

Note

Chapuline   is a delicacy of grasshoppers   - eaten in Mexico

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