"clattered" poems
Every time the bucks went clattering
Over Oklahoma
A firecat bristled in the way.
Wherever they went,
They went clattering,
Until they swerved
In a swift, circular line
To the right,
Because of the firecat.
Or until they swerved
In a swift, circular line
To the left,
Because of the firecat.
The bucks clattered.
The firecat went leaping,
To the right, to the left,
And
Bristled in the way.
Later, the firecat closed his bright eyes
And slept.
5.8k
You worth more than a thousand golden crowns
and continent wide silks
and all the brighter, wilting stars in the dark
and had you pulled the universe to you,
it will surely crawl under your thigh
as a machination made only for you.
And you worth more than the ten thousand horses that I had slain
and I pulled them onto your sheets
as whispery faeries gnawed onto its skin
onto its slippery vein
gory, but lovely all the same.
Alas, you worth more than another ten thousand of them running
hooves clattered across the impenetrable glass of auroral dome
and I saw you rode on another ten thousand that had not deserve you-
as you deserved gold and stars
and all the greater fury of this land,
not treachery and I.
Gold was the color of your ruse
and your words deify scorching stars into bloom
and you reek of rust — the finest yellow there was.
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 10:34 PM UTC
Here I am; waiting,
Waiting for an old friend
On a deserted Railway Station.
She’s late; knew she would be.
Time behaves differently in
Such public places; very differently.
I stood waiting alone,
Then a gaggle of women
Clattered up the subway.
Stilettos and thick, heeled boots,
Beating out an echoing tattoo,
On the broad, concrete steps.
Now we wait together,
Myself and a Hen Party.
Blending of emotional alloys
Fused together, forming
Excitement; then I see her
And all heads turn to look.
Amongst the flower boxes,
Silence blossoms on the
Platform as my old friend
Glides serenely into the station,
She’s late; knew she would be
Even so, she’s on time for me.
Steam unfurls around her,
Billowing majestic clouds
Crowning this, ‘Queen of
The Rails’, last seen when
I was a boy, now in manhood
Her unsung glory is truly revered.
Steel wheels clatter, a rhythmic
Tattoo, then she draws to a halt.
Old friend from a previous age
Escaping through to this century,
Thronged by beautiful women, I
Smile, and step aboard a true beauty.
©Paul M Chafer 2014
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 3:21 PM UTC
On the platform rolled the morning train,
I arched into position like a predator on the prowl,
I jumped into the rake and sustained a sprain,
and like a wounded dog began to howl.
I bought myself to stand and staggered towards an empty seat,
as hundreds rushed through the compartment door,
I dint get a seat, but space enough for my feet,
and that's when my phone clattered onto the floor.
I dived into the mammoth crowd,
and began to ***** unsuspecting toes,
Several people yelped out loud,
and i sustained a few hard blows.
Wounded and abashed i almost gave up the search,
when the phone came into my hand,
with relief i grabbed it amidst a jolt and lurch,
but soon realized I couldn't bring myself to stand.
I sat crouched on my fours,
and soon developed knee sores,
The crowd was so large, I couldn't squeeze through them all,
and to my horror, other phones began to fall.
Soon, we were quite a gathering, all perched on our knees,
merrily discussing the Lokpal bill and the Cricket match in West Indies,
We were soon forced to balance on a single toe,
as the crowd began to grow even more.
After an uncomfortable half an hour,I brought myself to stand,
with delicate ease on the platform I managed to land.
Fighting against the oncoming crowd i pushed through with a shove and ****
dusting myself here and there I made my way to work.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 7:08 AM UTC
I miss your sun and all its warmth as it gave me hugs when I stepped outside
The way you took the clouds and held them in your big blue space
You let me feel the green grass grow beneath my feet
Can we just lay here a while, in complete simplicity?
Rain or shine, I enjoy the whispers you sent me through the wind
Now the ice is melting, like sprinkling rain upon my head
Lately I’ve been dreaming of how your embers used to shine
Of how you took care of me in times of need and in times of goodness
Bring me back to the times where I could just close my eyes in the outdoors
And fall in love with you again
I can’t wait for your birds to sing to me their sweet melodies
I want nothing but your open air and open water
Just let me take it all in again, bring back your long lost friend
The trees are bare but I remember when you had them surrounded by leaves of green
Oh and all the creatures you sent out, especially the ones at night
How they clattered and squealed, I could watch them from my window
You would bring me out on lonely nights and distract me with your beauty
I miss your beauty, the way every single thing captured my eye
I can’t wait to gaze up at your sky without any worry in the world
Bring back the colors you loved to blend, the same ones I fell in awe to
Let me travel your rivers and streams again, barefoot, the only way to feel
I want to get ***** in your mud again, creating pictures with my limbs
Bring me to an open field, just so I can run, and fall into you, and laugh, and smile.
Just come back, bring it all back and give me something to enjoy again.
Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 11:50 PM UTC
battered and battered with no kind
to grind the wooden maiden,
set in the waves of Poseidon;
shattered and shattered for no rind
left behind by rai-den who caves in
to get in and raid-in’.
clattered and clattered each weatherin’
unkind thunderous raven,
with avarice preyed to dine in
and have a rice or some mice,
for no Bast left to my aghast.
tattered and tattered my witherin'
mind, so in the captain’s haven
I shivered and laid in,
prayed and gave in at last.
Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
My summer haze.
You exist
as salted scrunchies,
Freckled thighs,
Whiskey tongue.
You exist,
Right?
By Fall,
I know it to be true.
My autumn girl.
I look into her
tasting wet leaves,
pine and cinnamon.
Her body still
hot as August sun.
Fireplace feet,
wobbly knees under fleece.
Suddenly,
you are Christmas wine,
Snowflake tears.
Teeth never clattered,
Hands never cold.
I can’t see spring.
Perhaps that’s where it ends.
Maybe it never was.
Still,
I dream of you
And still,
I wonder
if you dream too.
Sep 28, 2021
Sep 28, 2021 at 2:34 PM UTC
Judgement
left, right, left, right, forwards, backwards
As our footsteps are clattering with noise, click clack, clatter, we hear ourselves move forward to our destination
Doing anything to help us get there, laugh, smile, frown, dance, recording every precious moments of our life
Than you hear something, not behind you, not beside you but with you
Judgement creeps with you, it’s always been with us, its not just darkness its more
More emotions clattered together, that something forms up, into each and everyone labelling someone as a something
When this occupies our mindset, we start seeing reflections of ourselves, what we made ourselves to be, but we don’t want society to see something else
Why would we rather be called “beautiful” than “ugly” when we ourselves always look in the mirror and label it “ugly” why would we assume that others won’t see what we see
Perception, the way we are presented to the world is different than the way we are presented to ourselves
Maybe its the thought that we judge ourselves, that makes us think that others are also perceiving us that way
Judgement can be dark, but if we change the way we think of ourselves maybe judgement could come out positive
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 7:21 AM UTC
*You've been hurt before by both action and words spoken
by promises unmet your fragile heart's broken
but I'll find my way through those tiny spaces and cracks
to enter and lock myself inside your heart
and hope that no outside key ever works
just so that the world can't tear us apart
I long to forever walk with you side by side
to scratch your back in case it itches
and radiate my warmth in the cold
I want my kids to be yours and when the time reaches
be inspired by our triumph when we're old
I wish to be right by your side as the dawn appears
past the sad and through the happy years
I fancy being the very first image in your eye
Hope that won't forever be a pie in the sky
I envisage you as my lifetime partner in my quest
across the Oceans of eternity, and I feel blessed
I want to be the bandage that helps in your healing
the one who won't abuse your intense feelings
I want us to hold hands as we walk the same road
that way we can go far, sharing our load
instead of singly dragging along our burdens
I want to be your favourite flower in the gardens
To appreciate your milestones and pat your back
I'll be your campus when you're lost and stuck,light in the dark
You've been tossed and shattered, your Heart is clattered
but I'll pick up the broken pieces albeit they're scattered
I'll be a harmonic melody to help you believe again
the compensation for your wasted years
the tissue to dry your tears and remedy for your pain
You carry a wounded soul and a broken Heart
but I'm willing to be part of an inspiring story
one where you find real glory in another fresh start*
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 4:55 PM UTC
See my spiral for how she rendered it
(sonnet #MMMMMMCCXXXVI)
Ya. Lean upon the porch rail as night's dense
Black--does it twinkle with ah, stars? nor hail
The mirk none pass through, just my brother. Pale
As Au Revoir where all else sleep from hence,
Lo, how--what ist? Hark! For the train calls thence,
Its whistle breaking this cold silence' tale,
And think now, of how I'll lose all ist? frail
Against the metal lacework, sans defense.
Turn back indoors to clean the mess we'd stir
In babysitting. Wooden tracks a crew
Of Brio traincars clattered oer in tour
Half like what deeply rumbles past, aye to
A fault, my brother saying "a real train--" Were
I numb too long oer Mum? Or swear I knew?
01Apr17b
Apr 15, 2017
Apr 15, 2017 at 12:43 AM UTC
Butterflies...across my face
Is what you said my words were to you
Wings of brown drifting
across two pools of ice blue
Slender fingers laced with red
Outstretched across the bed
And yet there was a pause
a sudden close of doors
Keys clattered and locks shut
A yes, a no,a sighed but...
Hawthorn high and bluebells droop
The morning star, the endless loop
My mouth formed the shape
and you fell out soft vowel
Mine a consonant, low like an owl
Flash of blue, rapeseed gold
A white lace flower
A secret to hold.
May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 6:46 PM UTC
In a brutish manner
I raise a glass to Billy Collins
my lips stained purple,
from
seven ninety-nine ($)
dark Chilean wine
that is infused with strawberries, cherries,
and do I detect the taste of…alcohol?
My packaged delights, basics from Safeway.
Green, red, white vegetables with origins unknown
had clattered, frozen, out of a bag, not fifteen minutes ago
I snap the bag with a satisfying thwack,
the chicken is ready from a microwaved attack.
But the noodles, oh, so sweet.
Plump little bags of cheese and oh--brie!
Sweet no matter what sauce, I drown and I savor
Wrapping the package with greens and with flavor.
I curl up in repose, stuffed to the brim
swirling my glass, getting seconds again.
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 11:55 PM UTC
Isn't it strange living in another person's head?
It's like Being John Malkovich,
or Anne Sexton
as I rode along with her
wild rides into sand at the beach,
lost in Boston again,
inside a mind
that was different but still mine
because I saw
that very street lamp she did,
and in her advice to me,
that yet unborn memory
that would never be,
I heard her words in soft puffs
of nicotine-scented tickles
in my ear, warm air
before young lungs
had ever breathed in,
and I cried
because she was speaking to me,
though she never knew it
when the words clattered
from that old Remington
like a machine gun-
I was just an idea
she never really had,
a wish in soft feathery hair
on the chest of man
she shared lust with as he slept,
not knowing he would father
a specter delivered from a womb
that had closed for business.
Our walks
along an asylum lawn,
returning waves
to suspicious grass,
green oceans to get lost in
after sewing leather wallets
from our own hardened skins
as if projects could ever fix
the worlds of sin we lived in,
pandering doctors offering
officious pretense of cure
against the sweet furies
of sunrises, sunsets,
earth worms and *****
So, can I cry
having crossed a divide
into another,
for moments residing
in the soul and belly of a mother
who was never mine,
though I feel her pain
as if we own it together?
Apr 18, 2010
Apr 18, 2010 at 6:59 PM UTC
*Rain pattered on all roofs
And Cattle clattered their hoofs
The locals gathered in groups
Cocking guns ready to shoot
Thinking that probably the brutes
Had once again returned to loot*
Aug 17, 2015
Aug 17, 2015 at 7:58 AM UTC
I.
I am confined behind the walls of my very own life.
The echoing of cluttered freight trains and the laughter
of invisible clowns fill what's left of my conscience, and
the voices of old God's and hushed Devil's are my only form
of a lullaby. I'm not crazy, I'm just conscious of the overlooked.
II.
I can feel snakes when there are none. Consider this a sixth sense.
Literature clattered in the back of my throat and the top of my head,
I tried to explain this to my lover, who became increasingly
bothered by the fact that all I knew was Shakespeare, and all I spoke
of was Caesar, and the stars...to which we are underlings.
III.
A threat, they consider me. 'Not to others, but yourself.'
Fools, all of them. I was not granted a gift to have it locked away
and drowned at sea. Listen! Act! Forewarnings are scarce, and if
the Gods and the Devils have chosen me to speak, then I shall speak.
My only question: why didn't they choose someone to listen? To understand?
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 7:14 PM UTC
She brushed a kiss she felt on her cheek
Felt a gentle hand given to squeeze
She found herself surprised by the
Sudden unexpectedness of the gesture
"Your a surviver" a soft voice called
Then she knew how afraid she was
Tears that had waited a long time to
Escape were finally released under
The dark veil of torrential rain
Big fat teardrops downpoured hurt
The sky above grumbled ominously
Then turned to light spectacular
Windchimes clattered with madness
Noises amplified by howling winds
She knew the storm was on its way
She would not surrender but maintain
Her inner strength and dignity
Her vitality was the food for her soul
Her love was boundless and eternal
Natures diversity and hers together
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
The sun now shines brightly
All my work now behind me
As I travel with an anticipation
All my Sunrise days are free
As a chorus of harmonic misfits
All gather and collect
In a field full of love
As all my friends old and new
Join me in their golden thread
As we sparkle as we tread
I met a gentle Irish girl
who's eye's held me softly
While she tentatively listened
To the music play
Before she retired that day
From a distant different
World far far away
I saw her hold her flute
Cherishing it so sweetly
As she poured her love
So very deeply
How I loved the way
She held her flute
The sky a glowing orange
In the dead of that night
What an amazing sight
As the stars rattled and clattered
The heavens a pin ball machine
But why when I see all of this
Dos my heart say I MISS
As I look back and see
The way the Irish girl
Held her flute
This is just Ritz glitz , razzmatazz
A superficial and chemical reaction
If I could only let her know
How much I saw you
The way you held your flute
May you be blessed
And the heavens with you
With every caution you took
For I , saw you !
As I cried with every pill I took
As I danced and cried
And danced and cried
For I took your love
And like a fine china
I smashed it to pieces
And ground it into
Pills , pills , pills
Give me more pills
Because who gives a ****
when you are on this ****
And who the *****
Camilla anyway
The gladness that I do now cling
Is that she could not follow me
As she is a bright butterfly
That dances and play
Soaked in the light of day
And I am the dull moth
Lost in her darkness
Attracted to the artificial light
That burns through my soul
As I am all burning up
And it is so **** hot
yeah mate yeah mate
I do not regret
As the world I live
Is full of friends and wonder
But i can still carry regrets
And careful of artificial light
Because I would
Love to know her flute
For she understood
I could tell
The way she held her flute
Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 6:04 PM UTC
I awoke in on a hazy summer day
With a start! in a cabin by the bay
Right next to a familiar face
And big brown eyes that I recognized
Without a bit of trace.
You silently, lovingly led me to the dock
Where the hot bright sun was our only clock
As we stood, watching, waiting for something to stir-
At last -- in our moment of peaceful happiness,
As it should have been, as we once were.
Alas! The glass water rippled before it shattered
By two monstrous crocodiles whose black bodies clattered
Together, all around our once peaceful place,
And destroying our electric connection,
You waded in the water before I could look upon your face.
I screamed your name as you drifted away
Into the blackness of the transforming day
That became my empty night as I awoke
From my nightmare, my face wet with crocodile tears
Over my loss of the ghost of us, the relationship I broke.
Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 12:58 AM UTC
Now, there's no reason these nights can't
dissemble our daytime woes.
With bottles uncorked, we'll paint
friendly faces on daylight foes.
The ground's not shaking.
Your breath's just ragged.
Faces shine and cities glow...
but, come sunrise, we're flying blind,
while keeping our heads low.
Still I remember the time that
we chucked that radio
from that rooftop sinking to
street level, speakers played Manilow
Transistors scattered
Our footsteps clattered
Down the fire escape we'd go
laughing hard, police up in arms
alleyways lead us home
We wanted
to up and ******* leave
But we're tethered
to this place by our heartstrings
So we're always
celebrating our defeats
We wanted
to up and ******* leave
I'm off and running in circles
around my own lasting fears
You're off the wagon and just
rolling dice hung on rearview mirrors
We're contemplating
on relocating
back to those familiar years
but sunrise comes, we're twiddling thumbs
and hoping stormclouds clear.
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 3:01 PM UTC
On the precipice of something great
they stood--or, rather,
sat--weaving hopes
into their palms and throwing shadows
just to find the ground.
Whatever they never were
fell from the soles
of their swinging feet and clattered
as it struck
the sides of history.
For a moment,
they let the madness
of memories
overwhelm their senses.
They could've gone so astray.
They could've been so static.
A half-written screenplay.
A near-forgotten attic.
But they had escaped
the ever-churning wheel,
the silicon bubble of this reality,
and burst brusquely and permanently
into possibility.
And they were exhausted.
So the rainbow-chasing was left
for another day.
A fervently promised tomorrow.
For tonight
they collapsed side-by-side
back into the present darkness.
Feb 21, 2013
Feb 21, 2013 at 12:03 PM UTC
Once you drove up in your
1977 Mercedes,
I could feel the hurried pulsation of a weary heart
over the clattered groan of your engine.
Clambering into my seat, I folded in on myself,
too timid to fold into you instead.
Creamed leather seats on a rusted turquoise shell
I look to the back, expecting some residue
of the last lipstick crush that you set fire to.
Instead, I found $1 books from the library
and your worn regalia that I would’ve stolen
and kept as filthy souvenirs.
A deep inhale of your burnout sheesha
that bobby pinned to tired marrow in my bones -
I would’ve taken you right then and there.
Instead, we played coy with the thin fabric of a relit friendship
and talked poetry and music over a ceramic bowl
of coconut chicken curry.
But all I romanced was a clustered cocktail
of my favorite things:
The drag of my curious fingertips
underneath your prickled jaw.
This fever building as I curl into your arms
and the corrupted graze of your hungry lips
in the groove of my neck.
Temptation at its finest.
Such promise between two starved pilgrims
But the descent down to the deep V between hips
is a sweet flame that
can easily burn you and leave pin pricked stains.
So its a good thing that I let you go.
October 17, 2013 4:38 PM
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 5:38 AM UTC
Love's letters clattered in currents
Winds curled to stillness,
in a talus of potpourri,
Season totem, a cluster of hope,
waiting
For one match pulled and struck,
To scare the ghosts from the pyre.
In a choke of smoke
from sweet attar,
Loves heat fans
the embers within
the hearts own fire.
So many words
wrenched from mouth
and wrought from hand
Contortions,
twisted spoken grip,
we strip the evergreen needles
from the bough
and let them fall from the fist,
Sprinkling fir
To the earth as grist.
Had not a sentence stretched from
pulsing ink well
by plume to parchment, or
from warm breath of lip’s beseech
What then of our night would say,
And of our day to listen.
If we do not dare with deeds to fly
Then the falling never ends,
And poem, eternal, ne'er to begin
Loves expression, not its desire,
Is the cachet
to which both life and death aspire.
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC
The fire still burns brightly out of the holes in the ground.
Years ago, the Bad Men had lit them.
Ju's father had been there and he had died.
Ju had grown resentful of the Bad Men.
And now, six years after his father's death he had a chance.
A chance at revenge.
Before him stood the Bad Mayor's Casa De Espana
and in his pocket lies a button fashioned by the Men of Long Ago.
And beneath Espana was Two Oceans of RDX the Men of Long Ago had created.
The Withchman Ki had told him where to put it and how to get it there.
It had taken him weeks for the right moment to arise and finally he got it.
Now, 3 days after planting it he was ready.
The Witchman Ki had told him he needed only be 3 Fallen Oak lengths away from the bomb.
The Witchman Ki had told him he would be okay if he was that far away.
And that the button would not work any farther.
Ju pulled the button from his pocket and smiled.
His remaining 9 teeth clattered violently.
He pressed the button and sat-fell down.
Light.
Happiness.
Revenge.
"I love you father," Ju thought.
The Witchman Ki laughed, miles away.
Apr 4, 2013
Apr 4, 2013 at 12:24 AM UTC
Sharply played notes ring in the air,
You hear its shrill sound, but from where?
It starts to buzz, and you wonder why
No one else noticed this screeching cry.
The noise of static suddenly flares,
You can't help but emptily stare
As this boisterous clamor grinds
At the inside of your clattered mind.
This cacophony soon makes you weak,
You can't help but produce a shriek!
Your screams will soon become quite hoarse,
And none will fathom your discourse.
Soon, this tumultuous discord
Puts you in a downwards spiral,
And all the others somehow ignore
This hellish fright, so wickedly vile.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 4:02 AM UTC
The noise of the day that clattered, now like a symphonic cachophony has wained
The many tasks to do, people to communicate with over
So I didn't get to all, but some, others I couldn't
But good was done
The application of logic as a blunt, wholesome instrument
Shattering the petty churlish moves of a fool
Like a game of chess with glass pieces
Seeing the opponents flaws in their transparency
Knowing, pre empting their next move
From a distance not knowing the king had fallen
Checkmate, but if you need another lesson
I'll gladly oblige, chess or something more your style
Tidley winks maybe??
Mar 4, 2013
Mar 4, 2013 at 7:55 PM UTC