"burbled" poems
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
the frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the maxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.
As in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came.
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack.
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"Has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Calloh! Callay!
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
7.1k
with bark like alligator skin
the pines reach up up to the sky
eighty one hundred feet they fly their needles
as if to say
here we are O Wondrous One
take us
do with us as You will
little shake-tail squirrels chitter above me
as if to say go away! this is our pine
you don't belong here!
I reply
I do belong here the pines have told me so
I do belong here
the wildflowers have said so
and the creek has burbled its assent as well
I belong here I repeat
I will stay here among the pines with alligatorskin bark
and the winds singing through the wood
and the creek seeking the sea
yes I will stay
and I will roll in the feeling of belonging like a dog rolls in herbage
and savor that I belong I belong here/now
at last
c. Roberta Compton Rainwater
2009/2014
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 10:52 AM UTC
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One two! One two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Jun 29, 2010
Jun 29, 2010 at 8:48 AM UTC
RECORD: 2 + 2 = 5
FROGMAN: RaiDIhO HEAD
***** Wonka: ... There's no Hearthly way of knowing
Which way they are growing.
There's no knowing where they're toe-ing.
Mr. Salt: [weakly echoing] Toe-ing...
***** Wonka: Or which way thought streams'a'flowin.
Is it braining, is it storming?
Is a braining-storm a'blowin'?
[sharp rasp] ***** Wonka: Not a speck of light is showing
So the anger must be growing
Are the fires of passion a'glowing?
Is the grimsly leader mowing?
Yes! The anger must be growing
'Cause the toe-ers keep on throwing
[practically stcreaming] ***** Wonka: And they're certainly not showing
Any sign that they are slowing!
[lets out a high-pitched, almost unHearthly stcream]
Dr. Frodrick Fronkensteen: Throw!... the Hearth Switch!
eyeGore: [shocked] Not the Hearth Switch!
And, while sparks flew across the slab,
The Number 5, with lies and tame,
Came whiffling through the Tulgey Lab,
And burbled as it came!"
-- Lewis Carroll
Suzy's: It halted,
and it gurgled The QCuloween's Trademark Seal,
"I'm just Around 5 foot 9, and weigh a buck ninety-fine!"
STOP: TURN THOUGHT
Feb 13, 2016
Feb 13, 2016 at 4:39 PM UTC
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Jan 30, 2015
Jan 30, 2015 at 7:47 PM UTC
Farewell, Santiago
The waves chortle in ripples; his boat
corks from side to side, slapping the surface
with a bone-bow and starving fingertips:
both have lost their names. But he
gurgle-speaks to the gull and whispers
ancient lore along the foam-crackled crest.
He’s hooded and hunched,
an old scalawag that never found home
anywhere that didn’t drift like him.
Sand doesn’t speak his language anymore.
But the interwoven arms of corals
can tell stories by the North Star,
times when he was agile and supple;
knee-deep in seaweed and the salt-burbled edge.
The night he slit his palm with a pocket knife
and offered life bounty to the tides
in brotherhood; one drop in,
many drops out over the years
and frayed nets, unfurled ropes.
The redemption of hope glistened in cobalt scales
and weighed at market like poison vials,
polluted inky clouds tarnishing
every coin—hardly worth the bloodletting.
Not anymore.
Dusk fans out orchid and orange blaze;
he yawns a welcome to the mako at last.
Sep 7, 2010
Sep 7, 2010 at 8:13 AM UTC
'Twas brillig and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand
Long time the manxome foe he sought-
So rested he by Tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwocky, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with it's head
He went galumphing back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe.
-Lewis Carroll
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 10:57 PM UTC
I hope that you believe me,
for I wouldn’t tell a lie.
I cannot turn my science homework in
and this is why:
I messed up the assignment
that you gave us yesterday.
It burbled from its test tube
and went slithering away.
It wriggled off the table,
and it landed with a splat,
convulsed across my bedroom floor
and terrorized the cat.
It shambled down the staircase
with a horrid glorping noise.
It wobbled to the family room
and gobbled all my toys.
It tumbled to the kitchen
and digested every plate.
That slimy blob enlarged
with every item that it ate.
It writhed around the living room
digesting lamps and chairs,
then snuck up on our napping dog
and caught him unawares.
I came to school upset today.
My head’s in such a fog.
But this is my excuse:
You see, my homework ate my dog.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 10:05 AM UTC
Fire blazed on from beneath the skin;
An ***** laced with flame and heat.
Burning my flesh from inside out,
Just to grow once more and repeat.
It wasn’t a problem in the start.
Just warmth inside my being.
But it soon blistered, burbled, and blubbed,
As my troubled heart melted.
It dripped its oozing mess in cracks,
And coated my broken bars.
Slipping across bones and tendons;
Traveling down my arms.
I didn’t want to complain,
as it seared my skin away.
I had no heart to simply cross;
Had no way to demonstrate.
So I collected all the gooey stuff;
Shoving its sticky self in a jar.
Wrapping it tightly with ribboned strings;
I named it simply, “heart”.
Talking of this roaring lion,
as it ruled my land of pride,
Would have no use to explain its flames.
Its high flying, licking tides.
So as I curled into my puddle of flames,
And my blistering body sank through floors.
People smiled as I talked on and on
About my favorite thing, bonfires.
Jan 22, 2017
Jan 22, 2017 at 4:46 PM UTC
It was you
you who burbled my thoughts
Who coruscated my facets
Who severed my gears
Who took my milk for gall
You who left me
digging caverns below my arms
as they proved to
hold no one
So useless, I became their hangman
hoisting them up
to the sky,
dangling them down
to the ground
They swung lifelessly,
as a nocuous pendulum,
condemned by all
for their open tears
It was you who couldn’t bear my weight
no matter how light it got
or how strong you grew
You who lugged my baggage on your back
and threw it off your shoulders
when you found it a foolish load
You who poured cream in my coffee
with your sweet laughter
Who gave my stomach butterflies
ridden with insomnia
It was you
who left me
lovesick and languid
biting back malaise
with an ailing tongue
Now I house snoring
butterflies with broken wings
and my coffee is black
and bitter
like me
One day,
I’ll wake up
with grooves marrying my skin
encroaching
like waves on a bay front
with gunmetal hair
sweeping
like a broom over dross
with dust nodding off
on my knees
I’ll gulp down bygone speech
putting droughts in my throat
from all the pride I swallowed
then, with a bone-dry mouth, I’ll speak again -
as winter must melt into spring -
and I won’t say “It was you”
I’ll say
“It was me.”
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 6:16 AM UTC
Okay so,
I told myself
I'd write a poem
Or something
About this because
Writing always helps
Right?
So here goes:
You came to me
In a dream last night
(Again. God, please just leave me alone)
And asked me if
I thought of you
Often.
And I tilted my head
And smiled some
Crippled cracked grin
And my chest filled up
With warm water
And I was drowning
From the inside out
As I burbled and sputtered
Through the choking waves:
"There has not
Been a day where
I have not
Thought of you
Since we met."
And I *******
Hate myself
Because I stumbled
Over my words
I was sure would
Spill out poetic,
Or at least better
Sounding than that,
And I wanted to
Impress you someway
Somehow
Even though the last time
I saw you
You told me you couldn't believe
You fell for my stupid poetry
The first time around,
And I *******
Hate myself
Because now
My dreams are speaking
More truth
Than I can willingly
Admit to awake.
Jun 6, 2018
Jun 6, 2018 at 3:27 PM UTC
Excitement burbled among the masses
As they crushed through the turnstiles
In their off-the-rack jerseys and faded caps.
Pewter clouds teared, tarp blanketed the field,
Not a single pitch was thrown out on this semi-religious holiday.
But fans' spirits were hardly dampened by the rain delay.
The game would be played later,
And something had changed in the air.
Win or lose,
Cowhide slapped into leather.
The odor of sausages wafted off the grill.
Bats cracked hopefully,
Electricity crackled through the bleachers.
That old ballpark magic
Conjured enough ambiance
To swallow a lazy summer whole.
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 2:40 AM UTC
i smell like a family
there is drool on my shoulder
blending into the fabric
of my flannel
where i held my friend’s baby
and i kissed her head and
her little face
and told her i loved her
and she giggled
and burbled back at me
and soaked my shirt in drool
there is dirt and grit
clinging to my skin
and my hair
where i held my friend close
after so many months of
radio silence on both our parts
and told him i loved him
and i smell like him
a lingering scent of
earth and travel
because for a nomad
the road is their home
but now he is so domestic
and underneath his usual smells
he smells like soap and clean clothes
and while this is strange
i am happy for him
i press myself into my friends
an extended family
ever expanding
i try to take in as much
of their scents as i can
because i naively hope that
i can drown out the smell
of fear and sleepless nights
and cold sweats that cling to me
i do not want to smell like my nightmares
i let them permeate my skin
and they stay with me
even if they are miles
and years away
i keep little parts of them
and they keep me going
they keep me whole
because family doesn’t
end with blood
but it doesn’t start there
either
Mar 20, 2016
Mar 20, 2016 at 7:18 PM UTC