Toneless Poems

Lemons and Life

Of all the songs
You seem to be
The tuneless one,
Less subtlety.

God's orchestra
Has dealt a hand—
More toneless rasp
Than golden strand.

I wonder if
You long to be
A star
In morning's reverie.

Do tears well up?
Perhaps that's why
You paddle more
Than flit and fly.

And yet…
I see you
Standing proud—
Such confidence
In every crowd.

You waddle round,
For pictures pose—
Such character
Without a nose.

You dress with style,
All brown and green.
There's pride in how
You peck and preen.

You're grounded,
Yet you float and glide.
No treetop nest—
You strut with pride.

So maybe I
Prejudged your tone—
Less violin,
More slide trombone.

In that, the panoply
Of life
Requires such confidence
Amid the strife.

To show us humans
Not to compare—
Just be yourselves,
Be fair and square.

And when life gives you
Orange sauce,
Puff out your chest…
Just stay on course.

Whispers in the Wind

Written: February 03, 2025, for contest, Sponsored by: Oliver Mckeithan

                                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~

In breeze
I smell your breath
that rustle gleaming twigs
of my forlorn wasteland of skimps
you grasp

In stars
I spot your eyes
that guard the transient beats
of oxblood veins straight in the heart
for you.

In blooms
I smell your scent
toneless taste in the wild
preserved in veiled domains of mind
so still.

In lakes
your pictures wave
along the autumn fronds
of silver maple trees of mine
by there.

Black and White

I am like an avalanche slithering in shivering angst,
free-falling into an abyss of an aching era,
where luminous lakes reflect pixelated regrets,
for time throws my canvas into splitting helplessness,
and mind plays tricks in aimless frequency, 
framing toneless tenors within paralyzed psyche,
pushing and pulling ivory strings of my ebony heart.

Now I’m dwelling in the chaotic caves of a calculative carnivore,
unable to grasp the lunar light that envelopes forsaken fields, 
while crooning caged memories, like a pensive nightingale,
pondering, would the moon ever untangle these starless thoughts? 
Or was it written on the wailing walls  of melancholic museums~
that I was meant to drown in dizzying darkness?

I’ll rest my pen in a glass casket of equations~
cloaking this crippled conscience from seeing beyond vague visions,
detached from kohl eyes, eager to steal my voice,
as I keep sinking in black and white polarity, 
pausing curative prose in screeching silence.

When Doves Cry

There is a sadness in the heart of peace
An emptiness of bloodless, toneless hearts
Left stagnant in the aftermath of hope
Yet still we wave our tattered silent flags.

A rustle in the garden bids us – still!
Though greyish peace resides upon the soil
Through which the budding saplings dare to peek
To glimpse the golden hope of daybreaks dream.

A dove, eternal symbol of our hearts,
Encrusted in detritus of our souls
Lays motionless surrounded by both flags
Consumed by demons choking on its truth

For symbols are the bane of mortal men
The sound of crying doves, our greatest sin.

Swelling Symphony

Just pondering on overall life
How to paint apocalyptic pads
Darkening clay ashes
Toneless voices
Endless falsehood
Withered, weakened
Ditched in favor of
gloomy, silent hallways
Refrains shouting her wails
How I'm twisted into a vast web
Feeling the quakes of helpless prey
In rhymed subtlety
fought dream's moods
Swelling elegies
Lingering sighs
Loom twirls on the death spiral
A wind song's agonizing aches
Swaying in their direction
On the verge of a breakdown.

Written: July 12, 2022

On the Good Ship Bubble-Pop

*Image of Childhood Memories by WordPress.

On the Good Ship Bubble-Pop

Bubbles, see-throughs, delicate floats,
of voyaged sailless boats,
her captain gauge the air around,
blue cast where none e'er drown,
farther distance -- misspoke, rising,
shapeless bows devising,
now turned admiral, sees her fleet,
eyes rounded sterns complete,
some sway starboard, others go port,
she ventures drafts to sort,
she waits till all had left her view,
ere scuttling added crew,
lifts her makeshift pier container,
blows whistle, no-brainer,
toneless wizardry expresses,
anew fleet progresses,
dreams to be, part of the magic,
fit in spheres? a tough trick!

2021 September 23
*1st Place*
rhyme me rhyme me a poem
~~Eve Roper: Judged 2021 October 05

*RZ checked
Picture #2

Dancing With the Ghosts

undressed recent ghosts
     dance silent monotony
     from toneless music

Can This Be Love

I have walked and walked,
But I can’t find the love for my emotions.
For it has taken me too long,
To see what I’m searching for.
Your beauty is guilty,
Of striving to seek,
The perfections of my love.

When found, you showed me,
The path to love, but never performed,
The dramas of your love.
Why you left my heart,
In suspense in the midst of love?
My feelings were all hidden,
They could no longer be seen.

I cried in a toneless voice,
Not knowing your love was something set for loss.
Why led me to danger when my love was eager?
You told me that I was the trophy to your victory,
But now, you have taken my trophy for faulty.

Your love is unbearable to my soul,
Why should I cry, when I’m in the midst of love?
You were the candies to my lips,
When I cried of your love,
But never touched the components of it.

Why you have forsaken me,
When I’m the origin to your beauty?
Love me for I’m your heartbeat of sugar.
For the rain might come,
To wipe away my tears some day.

©®2021
A.M Ngumbu, Jr.

Died At the Cathedral

The songs of sorrow is toneless
The sorrows of the heart is song less
Gone and gone for good
The dept of death is Dept less
The cream of death  is colourfully
Sorrowful because none see's death but we
All hear from him often time
Why this marriage between the body and earth
Why this wedding between the grave and the living
None goes into this marriage of death and return
When death divorce's our breath we marry the earth
The bells of time can not stop death
The tolls by the cathedral mourns the scrolls
Because death can not be divorced
We are born to grow but we live only to die

Truly Numb

Some think to utter you are numb is dumb.
  Like a frayed twine, emotion becomes blind.
   Can't cry, could only voice a toneless sigh.
    Death feels like a release, all pain shall cease.
      
      Closed doors, screams as piercing as a lions roars.
        Drawn same as an, acutely ailing fawn.
          Neglect safety, Pain is rather tasty.
            Carefree, agreed to a imprecise glee.
              
               Agreed, an impossibility to proceed.
                 Truly planned end, had become soiled by an old friend.
  
                    Yes indeed to be truly numb is ultimately dumb.

-life-

Dutch Sonnet:
-life-

Driving down such a lonely road, where we will not connect,
I’m all alone in this lonely world, where’d I go wrong? 
Without a destination, I just keep on going without regret. 
The radio continues to blare the same toneless love song,
But I cannot hear it. True love, we haven’t met yet. 
This road in life that I chose, I wish it would reset. 
Sighing once more, I bring the car to a fast halt,
Mending what I tried to forget, this is my start. 
It seems that I’ve been left behind once again, 
But that’s perfectly fine by me, it’ll be okay now. 
It’s about time for me to break this painful chain. 
Now that I’ve figured out what I’ve left behind, 
It’s time for me to start anew in this weird thing,
That we humans call life. This time, I won’t be blind.

Lost Echoes - For Contest

Lost Echoes


lost echoes wander silent valleys
reverberations orphaned tones
disconnected from their source

long ceased – solemn call to prayer
wasted on the ears of the callous
dried on the clapper’s lips

no need to welcome revelers
invite the workers from their fields
the center of their lives resides elsewhere

frayed, dusty ropes hang muted
no hands to give them voice
soft winds and whispers fading

on the fallow fields of hope
dry, creaking, members
bowing under toneless weight

birds, undisturbed in their nesting,
coo in the conic complacency
of the hollow past

the world is deafened now
the last of the pealing bell tones -
lost echoes – wandering silent valleys


John G. Lawless
7/25/2015

submitted to –For whom the bell tolls – Poetry contest
sponsor – Debbie Guzzi

Paneless

I look through the shattered pane and recall your chatter,
Surprisingly i invented the aftermath of your heartfelt matter,
I relive the day you walked away so painlessly,
I shattered into a fragment of me effortlessly,
Your toneless wordings so evidently frauded,
I believed in your thoughtless banters so frequent,
However cliched and obviously redundant,
Yet i held up through the dark days of your plunder,
Inciting my fiercety with your voiced wounds athunder,
i regret the day you entered my serenity,
Pleading gracious words i took you in pity,
Now i realise how unashamedly you flaunt,
Deeply i despise your every past taunt.

fiercety - fierceness (poetic licence)
athunder - dark loud shouting (poetic licence)

Rule

Unlike competition's ring of self exalt
in humbling grace I near you, not assault
my own faith's nearing, not confuse or fault
that love in righteous ebbing hails result.

And only Godly urging's calming school
resides in my apprenticeship as tool
does let endeavor, love, so give me rule
from toneless hurt's resolve of pathing fool!

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