Utters Poems

Arbeit Macht Frei

The first weakening of night 
picks out telephone lines, 
black against sky. 

The eyelid of a garage door 
lurches laboriously up. 
A car coughs blue breath. 

With aerosols and plastic scrapers 
clandestine delights of frostwebs 
are raked to chemical sludge. 

Starter motors whine. 
Windshields cloud with pain. 
Gears grind teeth. 

An electric train 
gingerly 
utters inarticulate from the sheds, 
groaning over cold joints. 
Thinking grimly 
of tunnels ahead, 
it flares with ill-humor 
crossing the points. 

On unworked land beside the track, 
a fox is heading home. 
Gliding through 
beneath the "keep out" sign, 
he grins at the engine, 
which just judders along, 
headlights trained 
on parallel lines 
which glint ahead, 
reflecting lurid signal red, 
extending out, but never meeting, 
towards the vanishing point.

What is true, in the existence of lies'

One telling thing.. The mind that conceives
The mouth that utters, the ears that recieve
The hands that type..The keyboards that cede'
The hurts that happen, the many that will die
All the above that will pass, thats the way it lies.' They will not remain..They'll be swept
Aside for way beyond.! moves eternitys tide.' God
Will dissolve' God will remove, all such realitys
Yet when will this happen.? Only God can choose.!

Pecking Order

I sure have learned my lesson
You thought I would by now
To keep my big mouth shut
So the utters won't have a cow

I've learned that most opinions
Are just a lot of bull
When they are done with one
They give my other leg a pull

I think I'll stay here quiet, this is my firm decision
It's not that I've been bullied, or suffered a good licken'
But, If the fight is worth fighten'
I'll be first to start the Kickin'
Then they will find out
who's the chicken

I've learned that most opinions
Are just a lot of bull
So, let me get the sack out
So they can fill it till it's full

When you see me out to pasture
And I'm sure you would agree
There's really no use pickin'
It's just best to let me be

That's Not Safe

Amongst spruce oblivious of the way,
As I admire the wonder all abound.
Birds fly above dancing their own ballet
All spruce trees spread their fragrance all around.

The compact wood is hushed before night fall,
Arrive at a bridge shocked at what I see
The chances of crossing are very small.
Trying anything is indeed no key.

The bridge is thin, its boards are worn and weak,
Yet still I stride with steps so bold and free,
A goodly warden approaches to speak,
I stop so afraid and wanted to flee.

Fear grips the warden, he utters a call,
"That's not safe! So beware, lest you should fall."

Place 3

vers libra

 

               beauty all around 
crumbling fragile leaves soaring
oh, the splendor of whirling
                             burnt orange
     and red leaves spin
like weeping blood red raindrops 
          oh, listen to the sweet sound 
                                    of falling leaves 
while the wind utters low wails
     like a hundred violins
              and hidden birds sing 
a beautiful symphony

Augury

Augury – 2-20-25  Edward Ibeh – Sponsor; Title Chosen - Augury; Pick a Title No. 49
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Augury

Embers of prophecy rise
In the haunting omens of owls
Divining tea leaves
Heralds speak future through opaque signs
And signals of frantic dogs
Before earth heaves in shock of slip strikes 
Or the coming of rainbows
Born from sun and blackness.

Gossamer angels bend over vanishing logic,
Brooding envoys of dark horses
In clouds of fireflies or heresies,
Burned at the stake of mineral, mist or ice.

Messenger, from the mystical, utters the unseen, 
The face of mute words, allegories in shrouds
Calling to fabled grails, emerge from mystery.

Heraldic voice stands outside algorithms
Wears a clear cloak named vision or terror 
A visage drifting through past or dawn
In images without bones,
Unshakable the slow creeping spice 
Built on shape shifting tides
Like mist from cloud castles
Before seeking birth in the hands
Of reality’s fiction.

Learning to Survive

The sheer curtains dance
Casting shadows on the wall
From the open window 
A gentle breeze whispers its call.

The hum of a fan
Sings a soulful song 
Breaking the silence 
That trapped me so long.

Minutes turn to hours
Hours turn to days
The healing is lost 
In a foggy haze.

I hide in the dark 
Afraid to live
Succumbing to the anger
The memories give.

I think of what-ifs
Searching for blame
Lost in thoughts
I cannot tame.

I'm told I'm a survivor 
But I don't feel that strong 
What if I'm the reason 
Everything went wrong.

A narcissist is a demon
Hiding behind abuse
And for every situation 
He creates an excuse.

His words are like daggers
Piercing the heart
His malicious torture
Becomes his work of art.

The physical scars
Heal over time
But the words he utters
Become an endless crime.

The sheer curtains dance
In the gentle breeze 
Where time stands still
And the reflections seize.

Flowers and Grave

Eyes are closed but souls are not yet
A wrap of white envelopes glow
Holding the four sides with a heavy toe
Darkness unbinds the weeping flow

A bed of dazzling flowers welcomes the white
Angels of love enchantingly bow
Birds twittering in the garden of glory
Daisy Dahlia and Camelia murmur to grow

The castle of fragrance invites the blossom
Fairies decorate the Garden of Grace
A white dove holding the innocent phrase
and the garden glitters as the beats become bitter

Tulip tweets and the lavender bushes
White dove with closed eyes flourishes flawlessly
Melodies of love welcome the innocent 
Hibiscus hoovers and azalea utters a holy blow

White covers the courageous color
Asking Petunia now about the awful overs 
Garden of Eden embraces integrity and futurity
The ritual ends with happiness and a glow.

Goddess of Beauty

No words describe the beauty she expresses,
Her explicit beauty, which secretly professes, 
The Inherent quality of her magnificent character,
Her heart is a refuge and a shelter,
For the anguished soul and hopeless brow,
So one can walk with pride, spark, and glow, 
She walks with glide, holding head high,
Faces the troubles never utters a sigh,
A paragon of beauty in her appearance, 
Illuminates the surrounding until disappearance, 
Her glistening and intoxicated eyes, 
Bridges the gap, knots the ties 
The way she laughs and her sheeny face, 
Her delicate figure and enchanting grace, 
Shows one another to utter perfection, 
The cause of pleasure and everlasting attraction. 

Written By

Muhammad Shahid Hussain

Autumn Whispers

Like the feel of resurrection in the Spring,
or like great bridges over troubled waters
connecting landmasses, Autumn bridges Summer
from the coming cold. She may well bring us the
devastating destruction of hurricanes and wild
wind-driven fires of Fall, but she's only harmonizing
with the ways of nature. Perhaps I'm partial to Autumn,
being born one September morn, but I'm also overwhelmed
by the way she turns the color of green into a beautiful gold.
She takes note of what has been and what  is coming.
She anticipates a hefty return on her laborious investment.
She creates a calming beauty before Old Man Winter.
She whispers words like 'harvesting' and 'gathering'.
She quietly utters the sounds of 'reaping' and 'storing'.
In a sense, the coming of Autumn is like salt 
giving seasoning to the Fall Season.

A Hinder Peek At Life

A Hinder Peek At Life
Miracle Man
6/15/2024

I couldn’t finish something,
that I didn’t first start.
Also, my tongue only uttered,
things found in my heart.

Any troubling thoughts,
I always quickly cast aside.
For God knows my heart,
and things from others I might hide.

My tongue is a launching pad,
that utters words that hurt.
So I think before speaking,
and those harsh words avert.

I’ve worked both hard, and smart,
my attitude, to be zappy.
Life awarded me no shortcuts,
in my quest to be happy.

Beginning

Let the flames engulf you,
Swallow you whole, 
Feel the heat from the pits of your stomach bubble,
Your mouth only utters the word of God, 
The holy scripture,
You only utter my name, 
Again and again and again and again, 
Until it loses it's meaning,
Your vision bathed in red hue as the overwhelming pain pierces your head,
Yet you still kneel before me and pray, 
Clutching onto your brown rosary with tears in your eyes, you beg for the end, 
This is the end.

Resonance An American Sonnet

The resonance of the old vampire’s voice
holds the soul of the French Quarter;
Thick as a rich pot of red beans and rice 
just waiting to be devoured;

You can hear the succulent sound of jazz 
in each syllable he utters;
A shadowed grin tasting of chicory,
his true nature remains hidden;

Vibrating at a different frequency 
every sound is a spectacle;
As you move about town all you see is him,
pressing into your subconscious;

‘Laissez les bon temps rouler..’ drips,
 all you can manage is ‘Oui, cher.’

Beneath the arched vault of infinity, immerse yourself in the mystified blue

Beneath the arched vault of infinity, immerse yourself in the mystified blue,
Where loneliness utters incantations in silent reverberations
With a tempered voice,
In melodies of screaming blue, divine sarabandes,
Deep tones from a subtle bass, dotted with electrum sparks.
Listen in the azure penumbra to the bright furies of stillness,
The piercing, insinuating hiss of a voice in indigo and soiree,
Painting a picture in clandestine duet,
With feathers of vibrant azure and the nocturnal trees of the sky.
Blue invokes a sacred lexicon, the cryptic nimbus of aquamarine,
A work in melodic tones, an archaic poetry, balm for the soul,
Deciphering the serene hieroglyphs of the firmament,
Minor verses that nestle in the endless azure plain,
In a prose text adorned with noble crocus flowers.
Blue upon blue in unhurried hymns,
Voices whispering gracefully green the evening’s blue adornments
Of the lullaby fluttered in celestial waves,
In the cobalt ocean of encompassing midnight hope,
Speaking with wisdom, in the mysterious language of blue.

For Heavens Sake

Fantasies glisten. Wealth untold.
Dimly clear; seen near and afar.
Wee men; chase around pots of gold.
Missed heaven. Prospecting a star.

She wishes; he’d only listen.
When lovers drift. They drift bizarre.
Act out; miscue the rendition.
Missed heaven. Prospecting a star.

He utters “turn the other cheek.”
Sneakers; lacing up the crossbar.
I pray he makes it through the weak.
Missed heaven. Prospecting a star.

Don’t let distractions go too far…
Missed heaven. Prospecting a star.

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