"clamored" poems
Crumbling cities.
Beauty in decay has always reminded me
of you.
When we were little and climbing trees
you told me of ow you would be great
one day,
like Athens and Rome.
I had laughed and called you silly.
Those were places and not people, I had said.
You shoved your tongue out and clamored:
"Watch me do it!"
I think I finally understand what you meant.
Singing songs to me in my backyard you
were amazing, thriving like you had sworn
to me
those many years before.
We danced and screamed from hilltops
with cities unfolding beneath
our mere human feet.
You weren't kind of the world, but you were
king of mine.
Later that night you dropped me off
at my front door.
Kissed my forehead and murmured
"Goodbye, I love you"
instead of wishing me goodnight.
You fell in the time between night and dawn
and when I woke up the next morning
our empire was gone.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
My thirty year old nephew
is down at Zuccotti Park.
He chants and waves his placards
from dawn to nearly dark.
He's furious the man has got
much more than he has got.
The man works eighty hour weeks,
my nephew? Probably not.
Today he went back to his tent
as it was getting dark
He found his clothing had been robbed
by thieves who work the park.
Imagine his displeasure
Consider his dismay
that someone went and did to him
what he clamored for all day.
Dec 23, 2011
Dec 23, 2011 at 10:10 PM UTC
"I", said the apple, "am the body of temptation."
Blood red poison, source of expulsion!
"Oh", the strawberry cried,"And I, infatuation."
Bright ***** pink, I am compulsion.
And so every food clamored to make a claim.
All but the quiet brown staple stone.
The little potato wept in his bitter, cold shame.
"I am useless, unloved, quite alone..."
Ah, but fear not, although you are quite plain,
You are durability, crucial, the go-to.
You are esteemed, and rather good for the brain,
So don't worry, I love you, little potato.
Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 4:31 PM UTC
Do women want romantic or authentic.
What do I know, I'm simply an imperfect guy.
Do I know what is more romantic and why
Do I know what is authentic and can I cry
Romantic or Authentic
Is it being at your favorite cafe
Or walking on your favorite trail
Is it listening to the Fray
Or is it feeling alone and abit frail
Romantic or Authentic
Is it cuddling on my couch
Or huddling in a rainstorm
Is it mending your recent Ouch!
Or dancing with awkward form
Romantic or Authentic
Is it holding each other's glance in a crowded bar
Or holding your hair lightly after too many shots
Is it allowing chance to connect from afar
Or revealing our weak side as we become besot
Romantic or Authentic
What will be adored
What will be remembered
Will it be our public shine that is scored
Will it be where we stumbled and clamored
Breathe slow . . . . . .
Breathe deep . . . . . .
Breathe as though . . . . . .
You can't keep . . . . . .
Romantic and Authentic.
I would hope we see each other's shining moments until we fade.
I would hope our memories linger even when frayed.
I would hope we bring our best selves with full abandon.
I would hope we both learn to dance in tandem.
Authentic and Romantic.
I feel it is not just about me
Or just about you.
I feel it's about moments shared free
And feeling what's deeply true.
Authentically Romantic.
It starts as a bubble
Not immune to trouble.
It contains a droplet
Not created by a bracelet.
It's a belief that feels thin
But it needs both feet in.
Romantically Authentic.
Our space becomes a quiet hue.
So white it's blue.
Our true selves expand
Centered and contained.
So fragile and clear
Let's hold it dear.
Aug 12, 2012
Aug 12, 2012 at 1:19 AM UTC
The bartender says “It’s time to go”
“Because the moon has clamored high
And the sun was banished low.”
They were only speaking to me
I raised my glass, took a swig
belch, “i’m not even empty.”
They grab and toss it in a bin
The crash of glass, the waste of gin
Pollutes the air and that is when
They spoke. It was stern it was cold
“Get out right now! Before I leave
Your chest all gaped. Your chest all holed.”
“I’m a patron,yet you’ve decided
To push me out into the darkness
Lonesome and unguided”
“There are other bars out there,”
“No need to bother us, They said
I bit my tongue so as not to swear.
I made a choice, a simple choice
To sit and stay at the counter.
I cleared my throat and raised my voice:
“Do what you must. Let it occur,
But understand this, we will not be deterred.”
Jun 29, 2022
Jun 29, 2022 at 4:04 PM UTC
*Fishing off Puffin Island as a boy
By Jude Kyrie
I remember back to my boyhood
it was a different place in time.
The little aluminum fishing boat.
Its ancient Johnson outboard motor.
leaving a wake splitting the calm Irish sea
off the coast of Anglesey in North Wales.
My grandfather lived his retirement
years out in the small fishing village.
We reach Puffin Island
a deserted rock of land full of nesting puffins
The anchor tossed over into the deep waters
of the Irish sea.
We dropped our lines in the water and waited.
The heavy lines tripple baited in anticipation
of a healthy dinner catch.
The schools of Mackerel
attacked our bait
We were tired of pulling them into the boat.
My grandfather slitting the bellies
and cleaning them throwing the guts
back into the sea that bred them.
Hungry fish clamored for the feed.
nothing left for waste.
I held a spluttering Storm light
to pierce the blackness of the night.
My fear of a giant shark
attack filled my young heart.
we packed our catch and the propeller
creating a phosphorous wake behind us.
I marveled at the multitudes of species
below my feet.
And at the untamed violence and beauty of life
that we all shared on this wonderful planet.
And then back into darkness.
The total black darkness.*
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 12:25 PM UTC
Mirrored in lay, I
Saw my face holed, clamored, and
Watched it melt away.
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
When Building the cities, roads, bridges and dams,
Blood, toil, sweat and tears
will never suffice;
The Romans, Phoenicians, the Hitites and Egyptians,
they all knew the score, they used it for years:
Mortar, water and stone were never enough.
Foundations were crumbling, the bridges fell tumbling, the roads went asunder, the cracked dams' water pouring;
Rulers and Chieftains, Pharaohs and Mighty Heads of the State,
Convened with their Wizards, Druids, Grand Mages and Magicians:
"Solutions", they clamored,
" Solutions at once!".
Bonfires were lit, the goat's blood spilt, the entrails were read, the tea leaves deciphered.
The Oracle rose, in a whispering murmur, She muttered:
"When Building the cities, roads, bridges and dams,
Blood, toil, sweat and tears will never suffice".
The Gods, in their infinite wisdom, had spoken:
" the elemental truth" they said
"that runs at the core, of all human enterprise
since the days of Gog,
for the formula to be true,
It needs a special glue,
a magical brew,
a mixture of fear, innocence
and tears
that can
only be found,
in the wide-eyed
Son of Man;
An infant is needed,
for Stone, Water and Gravel,
will eventually unravel."
"When Building the cities, roads, bridges and dams,
Blood, toil, sweat and tears
will never suffice".
So it has been said, it has long been sung, the basis of Civilisation
is Human Sacrifice...
The Romans, Phoenicians, the Hitites and Egyptians;
they all knew the score, they used it for years,
Mortar, water and stone were never enough...
J Eduardo Ramos©
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
summertime sadness
curtains pulled tightly, thick lashes
american spirit fading into mechanics
people moving with faces hot as the embers
the ashes dropping from my cancer stick, citizens
told to embrace their pride and freedom
how can I join them when I don't need them?
patriots, ignoramus culture
dreaming with eyes clamored shut, little emotion
zombie status, a rose-colored illusion
i plant the astilbe in the ***
dianthus, echinacea
fighting words never said, nor thought
watering cans filled with poison, over easy
the banging on the gate is loud and *****
Jun 16, 2013
Jun 16, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
She fluttered like the heart ascending o’er that ‘a way,
her swirling flower petals trailing scents throughout the day.
Heaven’s hounds are following, the wolves who chase the moon,
who chased after the birds and eagles, -who clamored to the sun.
The meeting followed once the bull, and the man,
tree and mountain, rivers and ship; found they met as one.
And finally the snake appeared to join in Tlaloc’s face,
All the actions, movements and motions that occur in outer-space.
Each apportioned in a name and symbol, time and order, or function each unto its place...
When the heart did see them afterwards and it fluttered like the early birds, inhaling in the wondrous, feeling something marvelous, and trailing through the skies upon and over time…
…and song or poem, bardic tale, kenning and the rhyme,
And set in stone or scribed on scroll, clay-carved or remembered in the mind. Lost of rhyme or reason and forgotten of their meaning until thought of as sublime. A tragedy or travesty, our lost past and history and that Dragon from the mine; and who he was or who he is and what we’ve lost or what we did.
A sleeper nay, a beast they say, who directs the evil Id...
And the birds shall fly and flowers grow, the ship arrived and animals stowed. The rivers, tree, mountain, bee, the bull and last, the man.
An ordering too and of all things said to be a plan,
…and that Dragon in his awful cave,
when Homer died became the grave,
...for over time did man forget them and thus became a slave.
chorus
…qe te awis petō, beehelōtis krēskō, plowós ghēmi qe kaiwotos karpō,
Te danus, deru, uros, bheiqlā, te ukson qe póstmos te haner,
…qe tagjōvi do-qe-pe olja weqtise seke do esmi e-men,
…qe jod Dherghen en-hen ghouros-te-speqos,
jom e-Homer walóm weiṛtō en-dō bhodsās;
…uperi tempos, ye man ne-mē, qe-en-dō e-dōsos.
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 9:34 PM UTC
something about that town
all the kids dropped like flies
year after year
here
you don't come across beautiful people
with
whole hearts
genuine smile
because
scars on the road where john flipped his bike
mark the one mile
from the house where tragedy struck
his kids on the head, a little too hard one night
and we don't swim in august anymore,
memorial sign hanging
almost like all of our heads that sunday a few days after
coming ‘round the corner just like john,
a little too fast
heartbreak is due
shaking hands, we clamored amongst the kids we grew up with
weeks after
only to be tipping the bottle back
a little too far
pushing the gas petal down
a little too hard
after five years,
falling falling falling
the kids stopped caring if God was knocking at the door
because opening that mortal door between the great beyond and earth is a
handshake
and
a kiss on the cheek
from your best friend
whispering welcome home
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 5:38 PM UTC
*The scent of you on my hand and lips
lingers in my dream and limps
through my every day,
I am consumed as I resume my dull way
through the heart of an indifferent
novocaine.
it was like mars had lips to speak of us....
last we met wetly and the Earth moved
from the hole I'd chosen to die in.
we were both of Us
tying to come about
from a dim luck... as we ******
at each other's rust
where our steel was frost and numb
but our towers gleamed young
and less ridiculous
than a close shave
in a black room
too beautiful
to refuse a sun
too small to be a star
and yet too huge
to be
removed.
II
It was a Wednesday
when our Tuesday asked
for Tomorrow
back.
We lacked the skill to atone
for our fumbling
but conjured our errant will.
you had smoke in your dark brown eyes
and I had both eyes
on your wanton thighs...
we clamored toward Utopia
clutching no heavenly thing
save our fire
in Ice.
III
Lately,you seem one with the gone swans.
and I know how they forage thru unforgivable
songs...
but the scent of you lingers on my fingertips
Like a long dawn.
A sunset, upset...
where the light keeps
every dark
gone,
and all the rest
inept*
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 1:08 AM UTC
Stagnancy living
in colorless morning.
sunflower sunshine disconsolate
the rooster sings
eulogies and clamored verses
ringing alarm bells in cockcrow
cough drone weary eyes
dew-tied memories of
reverie weepy
aching legs and chest pains
cotton cozied pills crashing
underneath plastic caps
prescription taps
Tylenol Benzedrine
relapse body thinning
cities wearing
ergonomic tragedies
encircling business quarter
daffodil rooftops
steady rain descending onto
varnished sidewalks.
Addicts pirouette dazzled the
hazed-minds dreaming of
Aprils and consistent harmonious
ecstasy visions stampeded
by the brickwork flickered with
lamplight demons overcast this illusory Babylon
trembling flesh retreats into the shadows it came
and nightmares remain similar to days before and after.
Recycled horrors lightning flash abhorrent death
whether they be wearing black suits or black robes
scythe or satchel the wide eyes scour gaunt alleys
for fixes to fix the monotonous life bewitched
with false material variety anxiety deity
Desecration City express way to depression
oppressed people hide away in simultaneous acts of
camouflaging fireballs
spiraling into decadence.
Diamond days few and far between
communal woe reverberates through skins
and skeletons in opening of top story windows
during Winter. Despite the fragrance chaos,
pandemic paranoia,
extinguishing elation,
All bodies continue to be
alone.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 8:47 PM UTC
A glowing presence appeared before me; was I awake or was I asleep?
I thought her first a stranger; she wasn't a stranger at all.
“What is your name?” I asked. She answered: “My name is Photon.”
I thought how weird a name to be called.
“Who are you and where are you from?”
…thinking how mysterious she was.
“I was discovered over a million years ago,
and abide by whomever gives me cause!”
“You have known me all your life.” she exclaimed.
“I am powerful, mighty, and transcendent.
If not tamed, I deliver widespread loss and destruction.”
“Only God is omnipotent and omnipresent!” I clamored.
“That is true; but I was created that way for a reason.
Mistreating me results in death; respect me, and you will rejoice.
I can be a good servant, or a cruel master.
It is you who must make the choice.”
“Are you some kind of a god? Seemingly irritated she replied:
“I am not! The power lies in your hands, not mine!
You decide to use me for good or for bad. I must respond to both.
I can be a friend or foe...bring darkness or cause a light to shine.”
As her illumination began to dissipate, I asked:
“Where do you go from here?” “All over! My work will never end.
My task is be a companion forever, to those who chose not to believe...
but the true, righteous, and faithful, they shall never see me again.”
“Just one more question,” I pleaded, 'before you go, tell me:
who are you really, and when will you again transpire?'
“I travel the world over and manifest wherever I am called.
My name is Photon; but I'm mostly known as fire!”
By Milton Lopez Delgado
May 16, 2016
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 8:51 PM UTC
Am I moving really fast?
is everyone moving really slow?
Won't brake I'm trying to bend
the time space continuum/
But I'm impatient
I had to give time some-time/
I was in a-maze
the search engine oblivi-on/
The abyss
Determined to confirm myhths/
When I thought I had it
I lolly gaged it/
choked on procrastination
Evoked madness/
My ideas was clamored
Tightly coiled
crazy intentions loco motive/
Meddled in my mental
steel ideas the conductor/
To link the train of thoughts
When if ever I was flustered/
I mustered all my energy
Just to catch up on/
All this ammunition
I've been schooled with/
all these definitions
In lieu of/
this vocabulary
i've been frugal with/
Let me stop
Who am I kidding
Or fooling/
I didn't write none of this,
I just googled it!!
Jan 21, 2017
Jan 21, 2017 at 8:47 PM UTC
Wallowing Wisdom stood widowed
with none to carry her bags across the busied road
heavy were Wisdom's bags, and wide was the street
who would want to carry widowed Wisdom's load
For Wisdom was old and Wisdom was slow
who would help the widow
Many ran by Wisdom not noticing her bags
their eyes were sharply focused on the sidewalk ahead
some passed Wisdom by without a second glance
others stared in pity but left for better circumstance
a few did stop to heave Wisdom's bags
only to feel their suffering arms dropped them in the road
In certain happenstance, there appeared another woman divine
who's eyes shined, her beautiful smile wide
many clamored to her side
pondering the name of radiant light
"Happiness" said she, many approved
a fitting name for a fitted love
the throng extended down the road
helping with her bags
how light were they!
Hearts yearned for Happiness
adored around the world
for she was ever-lovely
emptied pockets paid
what a wonderful commodity
The Happiness Company
Inc.
Widowed Wisdom stood alone with heavy bags in hands of old
on she walked alone and dragged her bags of gold
Wallowing widowed Wisdom wept and cried in anguish
her screams ripped through busy streets
on middle road, she lay fallen on her knees
wishing she may have her company
but too many forget
too many ignore
wailing Wisdom
on the road's floor
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 4:56 PM UTC
I looked out east this morning
The early light of day was painting the landscape
Much to my surprise the foothills of my beloved Cascades
Glowed with a lovely purple hue
Instantly my eyes filled with tears
As freedom was dying all around me
And the victims themselves
Clamored for more police-state oversight –
Was faint at first, a distant ringing
Like church bells in the neighboring township
The sound bounced aimlessly off the valley walls
Yet each time it struck my ears
My eyes filled and I caught a sob
Deep in my throat
Dylan called them the “chimes of freedom”
But I think they are ghosts of a bygone era
Haunting those of us who remember the dream –
Fascism and dissent rule the evening news
And no one is listening to the wise old bluesmen
When grandmamma is 38 with a **** it” attitude
And the police shoot unarmed minorities in well-lit streets
Leading with bleeding is seeding discord only
public outcry is for Kayne instead of Kazakhstan
and the CIA led ***** trade
is giving narcotics anonymous new parade routes
truth hurts, like an arthritic hand
gnarled and twisted
in the freedom mist
….better get **** drunk
And reminisce about blissfulness –
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 5:38 PM UTC
Deafening brazen censures,
Putrid acts of "kindness",
Bloodied heart of vanity,
Painted to seem worthy,
Clamored to seem wordy,
A twist with words,
A kiss of pain,
Your words of rusted steel.
Disguising disgust in compliments?
Please, don't waste your breath!
I know of your festering conscience;
I know of your elusive plays.
Cherish your words, my darling;
Stop using them for naught;
What use to cover a rotten figure,
In terribly plastered shells?
Enough with your mentality!
Wake up to the truth of reality!
It's not society that's broken;
It's you who's horribly meek!
You think I'm being harsh?
Snap out of your fantasy!
Stop sewing faux pas,
If you can't cover the seams!
Everything is darker than it seems,
Yet, there is also a light to it;
You intend to mold the truth out of Luma,
When you know it's bare of pain,
You already lost, expectedly;
You may get your cravings,
But you will never get what you are worth;
You've soiled your own pride.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 3:44 AM UTC
The path was long and arduous
And night began to veer
O’er trees, and lanes and rusted gates
Its' shadows breeding fear
Unbridled Wind wisped ‘round
Tombstone crosses where
Hissing its’ frustration
Loudly in despair
It sought to nourish fears
The shadows did create
Searching everywhere to find
It’s soul-less night-time mate.
Moonbeam light kissed the Night
Claiming shadows as their child
Together then in lock-step
They bent on running wild
And there, where he awaited
Their cold inspiring touch
With doctrines of all Evils
Firmly in his clutch
The blackness in his heart,
Thumping ‘neath his frock
Soon it’s rancid maladies
The Wind would there unlock
Thoughts of what’s to come
Then twisted lips to smile
Revealing stained and yellowed teeth
Trapping breath so rank and vile
‘twas then The Prince of Avarice
Rose and stood *****
The world would soon be his
To ravage and infect
His eyes of snake, both bespake
Behind their reptile lids
The embrace of the doctrine
For no Evils it forbids
The Wind increased its’ howling
Icy fingers pushing fro
Arranging fallen hopes
Into a dead rouleau
And you and I so un-suspect
Of pending alchemy
Believing we were safe inside
Cocoons of normalcy.
Our naiveté so firmly grasped
Caused us to belie
The chaos we knew not …
‘twas there, and drawing nigh
As Wind fingers touched him
He yelled out his decree:
“ The Prince of Avarice shall reign
And destroy Democracy!”
His school of ghouls, dunce and fools
Clamored to his side
Greed having won the day
Was about to take It’s ride!
Greed, first blessed the banks
And Wall Street did rejoice
The Prince of Avarice then silenced
All protestor ‘s voice
With lies and propaganda
All fabricated well
Then all the bankers rang
The borrowers death knell
Morgan Stanley, AGI,
Then ‘twas Goldman-Sachs
Raking in what Greed gave out:
Billions in green-backs.
Glutted bankers,
Through laughter Greed had honed
Uncaringly showed the world
A prediction - their prodrome
Of broken dreams, foreclosure schemes
Insuring that which failed
But jobs the cost, as homes were lost
And not a banker jailed.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 4:20 PM UTC
It was an era in which we needed ......."heroes!" Those years preceding, during, and after WW II. The movie going public clamored for them.....and we got them! Those "cliffhanger" movie serials! 12 to 16 episodes, each averaging 12 to 15 minutes in length.Masked crusaders battling foreign agents....or..............the "mad scientist" who, in his laboratory, developed a contraption to melt mountains enabling him to rule the world....or just a crusader to protect the public from any villain bent to disrupt society as we knew it.
The science fiction heroes, Superman, Captain Marvel, Flash Gordon . Buck Rogers, "King" of the Rocketmen(there was only 'one) and countless others.
All doomed to die, in some fashion, at the end of each episode, whether it being surrounded by villains, or in a vehicle last seen rolling off the edge of a cliff with our hero trapped inside, unconscious and........ helpless........so we thought. And we returned, each week, to see how such a fate was averted. And, we loved them.
They enriched our pride, putting our country"first", proving that "good..........conquered evil. We felt good about ourselves and.......
We still.........................can.......'united'
(Where are you when we need you!)
r.riddle: 12-11-2016
Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 2:07 AM UTC
Her wont on a sleeve
only made hour grieve
while fever fed a cold today
the road sought hither late
and zonked this dale
still clamored in her oath
she'd bid herself again
but to perish her affront
while inside my belt
only brought here by stock
would swelter in her seat
along highway oft-tried and
never abandoned till a rap
her deathly congestion, Alas
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 7:31 AM UTC
There were no sounds
When I walked.
There was no breath
In the cold air.
There was no moon,
Just the light
Of a phone
And a cigarette half done.
With the revelation
Of my solitude:
Stinging, soothing;
And in an attempt
To find the noise
That in silence
Left a while ago,
I sang a song,
The only one I knew.
*“I have loved
And I have died.
And they’re the same
The pride, the shame.
I have prayed
And I have laid
In the biblical sense
As my penitence.
But no man has ever
Told me more clever
Jokes or tales
Over cold beer and ale,
As my papa, the Lord
Of my room and board.
He gave me a home
For only me to know
With a bed to love in,
With a head in the oven.
So mama lay me down
Take off this old crown
No more guesses
No more addresses
Return to sender
This old fender
Oh mama, help me!
Tell Atticus to shoot me,
For all the ashes and embers
Have made me remember:
I have crawled about
I have clamored to shout
I have begged like a dog
I have prayed to some god
And mama no man has come
To give me some
Lesson on how to love”*
There were no voices,
To deliver my choices,
For the cruel night,
Was callous and blithe.
The frost in the air
Cut off my hair
To make me a Samson,
To make me the real son,
As I walked home alone
While no moon shone.
Feb 24, 2011
Feb 24, 2011 at 6:56 PM UTC
i. impenetrable skin and callouses feet and broken limbs. i am too fragile to hold the stars and the moon; they sink into me via osmosis, threatening to spill. the solar system as my nervous system, and the seven seas pumping through my veins with a rush of adrenaline so that i’ll always have salt water to heal my broken bones. my flesh clamored against my ribcage, feelings vigorously pushing, forcing me to bruise. your eyes like the ocean, so deep and cerulean made my heart susceptible to attack.
ii. they say that the earth is a magnetic field; and if you were north, i’ll be south.
iii. and if you’re the shells on the shores, i’ll be the incoming waves; no matter how many times you’ve failed me, i’ll always be trying.
iv. the fourth time i’ve watched you leave, it was like witnessing you on a plane that’s about to crash. you were always my achilles’ heel.
v. you kiss the bruises on my skin, without knowing that you've healed all the shattered dreams. hollow bones. but now, they ignite with flames. and i am burning, still.
vi. i still miss you, you know.
vii. but you were collateral damage.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 8:25 AM UTC