"clunk" poems
Have a little slice of key lime pie; get down on your knees and get real high,
'cause mamma’s gone and cut you a slice of key lime pie!
Spank step, toe hop, cramp-shuffle, paddle and roll;
Mamma’s gone and cut you a slice of key lime pie.
Dig deep, riff-walk, clunk-click, scuff those feet;
Mamma’s gone and cut you a slice of key lime pie!
Soft shoe or metal tap on the heel or toe, get your shoes on honey here we go!
Tastes so good, tastes so neat,
it’s a sweet and salty treat!
'cause mamma’s gone and cut you a slice of key lime pie!
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 8:02 AM UTC
Ships won’t be anchored forever
Rusted anchor will break free
Its weight will help sink deeper
With a loud clunk, noise will dissipate
The ship will set sail once again
No weight is heavy enough to overcome
Steered away to distant land
Searching for newer shores and destinations
Away from the land of constraint
Ship will sail safely through deeper waters
Navigating through inclement weather
Forces of nature will test its strength
For the ship shall find the happy shores again
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC
Sssttttuhhp....clunk.
Plink..plinkplink...flip, ***** **** plink.
Donk, donkdonk, plink, doink, ****
Flipflap..dink, plinkplink, doink.
Doink, doinkdoink, whirrrrrr, buzzzzzzzz ****
"Oh ****
Sssttttuhhp....clunk.
Plink, doinkbink, flipflap, bink.
Twirrrrrrrrtwirrrrrrrr, twirrrrrrr *****
flipflap.....clunk
"Oh....Man"!
Sssttttuhhp....clunk.
Plinkplinkboinkdoink...flip...bonk shhhupduuuup.
**** doink, ***** shuuuup.
plink, ploinkploink, **** doink.
booooouuuuupboooooouuuup...boink
flipflap...clunk
"Shoot"!
Sssttttuhhp....clunk.
plinkplinkplinkplink, doink flipflap, bonk, ***** twirrrrrr.
doink, ***** bonk, wuuuuuup, twirrrrrr, puurrrrrrrr.
plink, ploink, doinkdoink, purrrrrrrr, shuuuuupshuuuup
plinkplinkplink, doink, flip, doink, flip, trrrruuuuurrrrp.
"YES"! (shakes machine)
TILT! TILT! TILT!
"NOooooooooo"!
Jul 12, 2010
Jul 12, 2010 at 8:02 PM UTC
Clickety click, Clickety clack,
The train it rolls along the track.
The kids all get restless the parents all natter,
But at least they aren’t crying, so that doesn’t matter.
Clickety clack, Clickety click,
A child hollers out “mum I feel sick!”
“What did I tell you about eating those sweets?”
“Don’t make a mess all over these seats!”
Clickety click, Clickety clack,
The guard sitting bored, in his cab at the back.
We thunder through towns and all of its people,
Passing by churches, and that old pointed steeple.
Clickety clack, Clickety click,
A drinks cart on the train? Ah just the trick,
A nice cup of coffee and a cold can of beer,
“How much? You’re kidding!” I won’t get much change here!
Clickety click, Clickety clunk,
Oops, sounds like that rail's missing a chunk.
We cross over bridges, spanning their rivers,
I must close that window, it’s giving me shivers.
Clickety click, Clickety clack,
I’m getting hungry; I could use a good snack.
Back comes the hostess with her goods laden trolley,
No chance I’m parting with even more lolly.
Clickety clack, Clickety click,
So many destinations, which one should I pick?
Should I stay local, or should I go far?
It’s certainly more peaceful than driving a car.
Clickety click, Clickety clack,
It feels like we’re speeding along a fair whack.
The seconds to minutes, the minutes to hours,
From towns and their houses, to fields and their flowers.
Clickety clack, Clickety click,
Wherever I’m going, I’m getting there quick.
Bright eyed young faces, an adventure, exciting,
The doddery old folk, complain when alighting
Clickety click, Clickety clack,
We pass many crossings and a ***** old shack.
How many golf courses and quaint country pubs?
And weekend gardeners out pruning their shrubs.
Clickety clack, Clickety click,
These seats so uncomfy, now my neck's got a crick!
Now finally I've reached my long journey’s end,
And I'm glad that I've shared it with you my dear friend.
© Cinco Espiritus Creation
2012
May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 7:00 PM UTC
The well-oiled clunk of padlocks
slotting smoothly home
for dark to close off
rooms to outside days
and droned opprobrium.
The morning shine that
carries breezes brimmed
with birdsong must await
the sliding click and clack
of opened blackout blinds.
Open to a bundled clump of
tumbled, crumpled, crass,
incessant, prickling,
self-reflective musings
binding me to doubt.
It is this lair wherein I
rest and find the peace of
reign; 'Tis here I manifest as
Father Time to forge a faulty
rise and set with blackout blinds.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 6:41 AM UTC
You had me at
“I didn’t know you had brown eyes,”
the day I wiped my security locks of hair
from my face
to get a better look at you.
Look in my eyes like mirrors.
The reflection of my sentiment
made you Narcissist.
And the osmosis of our gaze
blessed you beautiful.
You are welcome.
I gave all.
Eyes, and ears,
and mouth, and rainbows.
Until you left me Mr. Potato.
My barren anatomy makes for a
raw piggy bank of deja vu.
Your silver dollars clunk through my Hollow.
Never rust.
You wonder why I
never let go.
Bankruptcy has me petrified.
Putting park walks into penny stocks
waiting to cash in on
two kisses during Christmas time.
Hoping you invest as much in me.
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 1:57 AM UTC
pulse of 80s music
conversation
swirls
between drinks
bubbles rolling
under
the tongue
bank holiday getaway
beermats
not getting any younger
doesn’t mean
you have to feel older
people
stream in
shadows pour
across the floor
names that haven’t spilt
from my lips
for years
and you wonder how long
the puddle will last
names scribbled
by a dartboard
the faint
clunk
of potted pool *****
dialogue fizzles
like tablets
in water
voices
dripping
coming then going
wilt into
the cool spring night
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 11:15 AM UTC
Leading sounds of spring
Are now preceding the season.
Scattered platoons of yardmen
clunk aluminum ladders
that thunk debris littered roof gutters,
bang a size range of galvanized nails
into an exterior catalogue of materials
needing attentive appending.
The leaf blowers, the leaf blowers
exhausting NASCAR level roars
attempting to push back
last fall/winter into their calendared slots.
And the first nice day Harleys
rumble distantly along the gorge road below.
Mar 15, 2012
Mar 15, 2012 at 2:50 PM UTC
The thrumming clunk of shocked wheels
Eat up road worn smooth by big junking beasts
Smoking up crisp air
Hungry for a taste of stunted freedom
The rush of wind the pained panels
Pulling a mass of curls with sticky cold fingers
Raking across my scalp
Shaking in the silence
In wake of thought
The bass drum barking out a numbing melody
Sliding like thin blade into the back of my mind
Enhancing melodramatic mood
Touching my tender heart
Fresh from the lash of lonely
Bludgeoned by the deadpan distance between
My soul
Snack sized bit of flesh clinging to the slick walls
Of reason
Hammering in my chest
Still riddled with the mark of your claiming
The imprint of my nails still bleeding
In refusal
But claim it you did
Snatched it up out of my chest
Trailing arteries and the copper stench of blood
Empty cavity
Filling up with dreams and the sweet taste of your breath
Leeching into my limbs and whispering love into my being
But this road is ceaseless
No matter how many times I visit
That long stretch of highway
Promising me the Spector of your memory
The ghost of your touch
Warmth of love
Acceptance
Renewal of my existence
The green glint of freeway sign
Showing me where I would have found you
Down that dirt road
Swing hair pin turns hearing your laughter as it chases me closer to where you should be
Were you will always belong
Where I could have found you had life been kind
Your savage dissection of my soul keeps me yearning
Reaching out and grasping my independence hostage
Where you have become a necessity to whom I am
What I am
And who I will be
Hinges on your well being
Fading into nothing
Where I am defined by you
My angularity is tethered down
But the road yields no answer
Only the Spector
The sad shadow of memories that refuse to fade
Die instead of rotting
At least with death it can be buried
Living with the death of my heart
A tragedy I would not allow to part
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 6:40 PM UTC
You, to me, run like clockwork.
Which is to say:
In sections , your insides spin at insidious speeds, whirring a blur of gold silver copper gold silver copper-
In others, they crawl, wrestling, pushing, heaving, scraping and screeching.
A cacophony of cogs, the crashes spark thoughts.
Thoughts that think of everything,
Thoughts that think your mate can sing
Thoughts you thunk when you where drunk,
Thoughts you think you thought you’d thunk,
Thoughts that form into ideas,
Thoughts that show eternal fears.
Thoughts you thought you thought you’d thunk,
Thoughts you think you thought you’d thought but nought comes to mind about the thought you thought you’d thought about thinking the thought you’d thunk,
Thunk, Thunk , Clunk.
These lighting shards that shatter and glow,
They seem to know which way to go.
Conjoin with fractured other parts,
To hold together another heart.
But all they see, is a calm face.
That subtly shifts from day to night.
So unaware of any fright.
Tick, tick, tock.
You are the all encompassing
Incomprehensible complex
A never ending clockwork
Spinning deeper and deeper
Swirling deeper, deeper
Twirling, deeper, deeper, deeper
Dirt and diamond and daisies and you,
Contain all in life i know to be true.
Clockwork you.
Jan 21, 2022
Jan 21, 2022 at 11:15 AM UTC
Unrepentant with a hole in her soul
The brass faced liar has steely control
Nothing fazez her. no fib was too big or small. Man this girl was a smooth criminal and a really close acquaintance
She would give a polygraph the shakes
and it's our little secret. umm, Mom and dad know.
family secret.
I reversed engineered the brass faced liar
and all the tumblers clicked.
The truth to her is like Kryptonite to Superman.
I dropped a small stone down her throat one day and counted to ten
before it hit bottom with a far away clunk..
Faceof brass ,heart of stone.animal rescuer
Liar to the bone. Manipulates children poor self esteem
Brass faced liar isn't what she seems.
Out. To impress now.finally starting to dress now
Drawing flys like rotten meat.
Wicked comes in all shapes and sizes
Turn back the covers,know what your surprize is ?.
A zombie in a guilded mask.
Long dead and putrid..a walking talking husk.
Lies pour out of her mouth like green blowflies
And crawl back in under her disguise.
To fester.
Brass face jester
R.I.P.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 9:24 PM UTC
The gears in my clockwork heart
St-st-stutter and cough
Twisting, wrenching, straining
To turn back to our normal
"Click-clunk-click":
Our structured rhythm-dance
As clouds of rust-dust, lust-dust
Fly from my mechanized mind which,
Mis-wired, streams lifeblood data to my people processor
And my sights focus sharply on you.
Metal arms reach but are not seen,
Fingers touch but are not felt.
My mouth screams: "See me! Discern me!"
But the flat iron tone does not compute.
I say nothing that is real.
Nothing that is human.
You stand before me, unaffected
Frighteningly beautiful in your imperfection.
Kerchlunk.
The gears turn.
Oil: black-brown
Eases from my eyes.
Gun cocked, gaze steady,
We move on.
Ready.
Aim.
Fire.
Next victim, please.
May 1, 2013
May 1, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
Tick, tick, tock, tick,
Listen to all the clocks, tick.
Horology drew me with all of it's sounds,
The shop here simply resounds,
I'm bound.
Tick, tick, tock, click!
Turn the key in the lock, click.
There is no quiet in this place,
But I can hear my own heart pace,
Trying to win a race.
Tick, tick, tock, chime!
All the bells go off, chime!
The time chimes right exactly on nine,
The noise is less than divine,
All mine.
None knows the hollow sound,
But me!
Up all night listening,
Listening.
None knows the auditory drowning,
But me!
Deep in my veins,
With it's deathly melody!
Tick, tick, tock, cuckoo!
Chimes weren't enough, cuckoo, cuckoo!
The little birds jump out of thier beds,
Swirling into my tired head,
A moment later, the noise is dead.
Tick, tick, tock, hush.
I mutter under my breath, hush.
I'm trying to write for my own peace of mind,
Where are the words I need to find?
I'm blind, I must be blind.
Tick, tick, tock, clunk,
The thud of the door behind, clunk.
Free of this shop and it's midnight embrace,
The ideas it tried to lace,
The end of a day.
No tick, no tock, no clicks, no locks,
Home where I await,
The sun to rise and touch my eyes,
The light can only harmonize.
And now I'm here the day is so loud,
But you help me forget the sound.
Tick, tick, tock, tick,
Even out here the clocks, tick.
All I want is the silence,
Devoid of this silly rhyming,
The silence I found in you.
Feb 2, 2013
Feb 2, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
How long the rumbling chord ebbs on
irregular in dull augment
of endless streaming green and brown
An audience to long hours spent
The soperific drone plays for
a tired dance of shifting limbs
What contrast with the streaming track
That blurred metalic weaving score
Then all at once the score divides
The conductor's signal brass
The final movement slows and so
the blur takes form of brick and grass
The orchestra all rise as one
and bow below the luggage racks
A final clunk, the doors release,
the journey ends and life unpacks.
Jun 16, 2010
Jun 16, 2010 at 2:47 PM UTC
Neener, neener, neener
Your daddy is a wiener
A peener, a geener
A ***** magaziner.
Nanny, nanny boo boo
Stick your head in doo doo
Your granny has got put in jail
For practicing at voodoo.
Olly Olly Oxen Fee
I see you, you can’t see me.
I am smart, you are not.
Just how stupid can you be?
Waka, waka, waka
You look like an alpaca
Your mama should have taken you
And stuffed you in a locker.
Zimmy, zimmy, zim
Your luck is getting slim.
Bad Luck Billy says you’re
You’re almost bad as him.
Hardy hardy har
You think you are a star
But an extra in a walk-on role
Is what you really are.
Clunkety clunk clunk
Your dreamboat has sunk
You think you smell like roses
But it’s more like a skunk.
Sniggley, sniggley snurt
The truth is bound to hurt
You invested in yourself
And then you lost your shirt.
Jun 6, 2015
Jun 6, 2015 at 5:04 PM UTC
your paradise is giving me hell... yet -
we bark at the same moon
and all's well. we strike the brass bells of our Wednesday
and keep havoc on a leash. drinking mint tea... pealing anguish
from a flask... stalking clarity with a cowbell -
spoiling ribbons of the sun
with night streaks of blind lemons
coiling in the blue sky of dread reckoning... a periscope
in the marsh, festooned with limp reeds and wild things...
my eyes clunk in the Mcguffin
and go the way of Eastern men with rope tricks
it clicks on the steam in my kettle
where harm has a hammock.
and a gentle breeze typhoons
in a fools mouth.
as the whirligigs of Autumn
preach Spring
in Amsterdam.
i'm left out.
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 2:24 AM UTC
jumping jumbled thoughts
hop-scotch, double-dutch, criss-cross
getting lost in mish-mosh
scratching a vinyl
stuck constant skipping,
unfinished rounds of loop-de-loop spinning
speeding down stream
leaping across time warping lilypads,
memories interrupted by what-if daydreams.
my brain places haphazard bookmarks
when it runs into a lump,
then hops on a new train
ka-clunk ka-clunk-clunk ka-clunk,
tripping over decaying stumps
and mountains of over-processed junk.
always falling back to distraction,
instant satisfaction
was taught to me habitually,
so i look the other way when
my will bends instantaneously
at the mention of insane
raucous romping renegades.
i throw hand grenades
to prevent unfinished fragments
of insight from cementing.
wishing my words would
spit themselves out,
or dive off a cliff to utter calamity
cause effort is lost on me -
passionless revere
and bottomless see-sawing.
just stick me slack-jawed
in front of any cookie-cutter size of
plastic rectangle-god,
they all repeat the same chant
commanding me to stare endlessly at
screen after screen after screen after screen after screen -
my screaming pacified by flashing lights
and buzzing jibber-gabber.
infinite scrolling consumes isolated nights,
meticulously crafting a self-projection
made from inverse other-reflection
to deflect nagging fear of
detection and rejection.
can you really hear my inflection
from this typeface
and condensed pre-packaged mind-space?
i feel like i'm speaking,
but feedback is empty and misplaced
only muttered out by thoughtless mistake.
well once i pin me down
ill stick you beside,
and we can melt into cork board
a collage of disintegrated insides.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 9:13 PM UTC
Gazing at furry paws
smacking white cord pulls
mesmerizes her.
Wooden tassels clunk together,
waving to and fro
like a tetherball
on a playground pole
spanked by busy children.
He left his kitten
his curious kitten.
Outside snowflakes
float downward
like the pieces of paper
she shred from his exit note
and like bits of cotton
the kitten pulls from her pillow.
He left his kitten,
his curious kitten.
Her hands clasp together.
She utters no prayer.
Downcast she cannot face her Lord.
Her red streaked eyes,
accented by ash colored cheeks
study playful kitten.
Her thoughts clink together
as she slaps them around her mind.
He left his kitten,
his curious kitten.
He left.
He left her.
Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 10:10 AM UTC
Footsteps should feel like rose petals, velvet and red,
when you’re not soft enough
I can hear you approaching
wearing your father’s shoes. They used to clunk around as you walked;
they used to be too big.
Now they fit.
I know I shouldn’t hold you without arms,
but I am too in love with this
and it’s getting to my head faster than the things you say when we're falling asleep.
I’m telling you about things I felt
because you asked if they were real feelings or simply colors
and I don’t have an answer yet but it’s coming to me.
Now,
about last night
I only cried because you said you were afraid
and my heart goes out to you:
the only thing you have to fear is your mind.
I made a new color today.
I thought I would be able to tell you more
but isn’t that always the case
filed and boxed and put on a shelf because no one bothered to look close enough
or pay their bills.
I wasn’t going to say it,
but I saw a heart hiding under your bed and I think it’s mine
don’t keep it too long
don’t think I’ve forgotten it
Sometimes I think I won’t ever be enough
and that you won’t ever realize it
so, so sorry.
(Too bad you’d never experiment)
I’m always speaking but I’m never listening
all I want to do is hear your voice
clear
as a glass of water
but I keep putting a spoon in and stirring,
stirring until the water moves so fast that I get ****** in
half asleep and dreaming, forgetting the meaning
of oxygen.
I guess I was trying to show you something you couldn’t see
just like time—
there’s more of it than you think.
You watch me closely but you forget
blinks;
you forget the ripples in a pond.
Before you know it, dinner will be over
I’ll be full, and you’ll be wondering where
my appetite came from.
Didn’t you know?
I’ve been hungry for years.
Jan 31, 2012
Jan 31, 2012 at 1:38 AM UTC
The Strid, at ground level, seems
A calm stream. A peaceful bath.
None foresee being swept into
My roaring depths, trapped under current and crag
I want to merit photographs, but
I am midday with overcast skies
The light isn’t quite right, the
Scenery you see seems trashed
I picture myself behind the wheel of
The steel frame of a 1967 Chevy Impala. Black and
Worn down from its time in domesticity
Its escapee driving fast, kicking up dust, so
He can never look back
Praying the engine doesn’t clunk or thrash
My heart is the library of Alexandria
Endless tomes taken from open trade
Open to few, elites within not knowing they’re kindling
An empire of knowledge gone to waste in
A night of passion and fire
My mind lives in Constantinople
Unbroken walls build in fear of failure
I am the fire in that city, uncontrolled
I consume myself from within, and
My walls crumble
Prized relics of pride swiftly settle
Kicking up dust at the bottom of the river
The bosun yells “man overboard!”
Too late; they’re trapped
Under current and crag.
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
Brain synapses connecting at speed of light
Hands type furiously ,pausing to touch her child
Unblinking Cyborg in a woman's curves
She hasnt slept well in 8 days
Wearing her fatigue like the metal braces
She attatches on her metal child
Clunk,Clunk ,Yet another malfunction
**** Robot
3 seconds,Sorted.
SHE.Shes a well oiled engined
Gears tugging smoothly over each other.
She got it all together.
She is NOT a boy,NOT a tomboy
THIS woman just built a robot in 2 days
Finally,She blinks
Teadrop
Pity her heart cant fix that easy.
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 11:57 AM UTC
You are such a fearless thing
in your twenties now and still alive
when I got that bike seat for you and me
to travel around on the back for all to see
Man I peddled fast on busy streets
with you cooing on the back seat
you loved the speed
so fearless indeed
Then that day that we were on our way
for your mothers to mine
down that steep hill with all the ramps
of many gradients unkind
We hit that rather big speed bump
and with an unnatural clunk
I knew something was amiss
I stopped, got off, goodness the seat was junk
There you were learning over
one of the supports were broken and gone
yet you smiled at me, my non plus tike
my sweet baby on my bike
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 9:34 AM UTC
the sun the sky the breeze the trees toes quicksand scritch scratch dryer 1950s lovely lonely hair compliant help keep safe home quick kiss hello hug hello hi hello pretty lovely lonely cut scratch drink puff lovely lonely drive go fast drive cruise i'm sorry money help home safe plaid light morning pop crown smear free mind heart soul clunk jingle ching change kiss hug lovely lonely ***** help kiss heart breathe suffocate help drowning kiss my heart my lungs special hug kiss help quiet static smear dark help quiet kiss help
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC
Rhythmic clunk
just as
my heart would jump
just as
too many times
burning right through
I’d trace the line,
that led to you.
A breeze of air
whips the hair
you never got to see;
claiming fairs
of all I couldn’t be.
Cutting through
interwoven lines
sunken view
good service signs
brought together
by the tube.
twenty-twelve and the whole world blocking my run
even London Underground didn’t want this one
to become
a two.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC
if I had to choose my last breath
i’d choose it with you
and only fantasies create
a sort of granule gargantuan glee
if i had to choose between
letting go of fear
and touching you
i’d choose you every time
if i had to rebuttal the claims
of my own body insecurities
i’d let go of them
for you
if i had to challenge myself
beyond a thousand measures
go past fear itself
i’d do it for you
and maybe it will take forever
but i’m willing to make the case
of loving you so gently
i’m at ease with the whole world around me
and i just keep thinking of
oranges hanging loosely in a plastic net
just dangling about to
plop down on the shiny wood
floor clean of dirt or
rest them lightly on the white
porcelain kitchen counter
without a care in the world
because that’s how you make me feel
unbound and synchronized like
the clunk of a VHS tape
fitting nicely into place
re-wound and ready
for the movie to start
and if i had a wide choice of manly lovers
i’d choose you every time
you’re not what i expected
for a woman in her prime
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 12:38 AM UTC