"cumber" poems
Babels of blocks to the high heavens towering
Flames of futility swirling below;
Poisonous fungi in brick and stone flowering,
Lanterns that shudder and death-lights that glow.
Black monstrous bridges across oily rivers,
Cobwebs of cable to nameless things spun;
Catacomb deeps whose dank chaos delivers
Streams of live foetor that rots in the sun.
Colour and splendour, disease and decaying,
Shrieking and ringing and crawling insane,
Rabbles exotic to stranger-gods praying,
Jumbles of odour that stifle the brain.
Legions of cats from the alleys nocturnal.
Howling and lean in the glare of the moon,
Screaming the future with mouthings infernal,
Yelling the Garden of Pluto's red rune.
Tall towers and pyramids ivy'd and crumbling,
Bats that swoop low in the weed-cumber'd streets;
Bleak Arkham bridges o'er rivers whose rumbling
Joins with no voice as the thick horde retreats.
Belfries that buckle against the moon totter,
Caverns whose mouths are by mosses effac'd,
And living to answer the wind and the water,
Only the lean cats that howl in the wastes.
15.8k
surrender hind-legs
targets yellow spines
yellow stems
flowers blend into frogs
tree frogs tree apples
tree fruit heart numinous
nervousness next level
levitation into vibration
watermelon seeds
stars, steam, sand and shadows
i allow
keep talking spinning
weaving the stars
love is a happy motorcycle
bathtubs zoological
sisters straight eyed sailors
cumber-buns saviors
yawning in the wind
at the hint of a spark
gravity embarks on sacred journeys
desert walks soul visions
quest into westerly winds
pools of tough romance tough love
chances are that now and then
we will pretend
that we are more compassionate
then we are
Feb 22, 2018
Feb 22, 2018 at 11:43 PM UTC
Evening was in the wood, louring with storm.
A time of drought had ****** the weedy pool
And baked the channels; birds had done with song.
Thirst was a dream of fountains in the moon,
Or willow-music blown across the water
Leisurely sliding on by weir and mill.
Uneasy was the man who wandered, brooding,
His face a little whiter than the dusk.
A drone of sultry wings flicker'd in his head.
The end of sunset burning thro' the boughs
Died in a smear of red; exhausted hours
Cumber'd, and ugly sorrows hemmed him in.
He thought: 'Somewhere there's thunder,' as he strove
To shake off dread; he dared not look behind him,
But stood, the sweat of horror on his face.
He blunder'd down a path, trampling on thistles,
In sudden race to leave the ghostly trees.
And: 'Soon I'll be in open fields,' he thought,
And half remembered starlight on the meadows,
Scent of mown grass and voices of tired men,
Fading along the field-paths; home and sleep
And cool-swept upland spaces, whispering leaves,
And far off the long churring night-jar's note.
But something in the wood, trying to daunt him,
Led him confused in circles through the thicket.
He was forgetting his old wretched folly,
And freedom was his need; his throat was choking.
Barbed brambles gripped and clawed him round his legs,
And he floundered over snags and hidden stumps.
Mumbling: 'I will get out! I must get out!'
Butting and thrusting up the baffling gloom,
Pausing to listen in a space 'twixt thorns,
He peers around with peering, frantic eyes.
An evil creature in the twilight looping,
Flapped blindly in his face. Beating it off,
He screeched in terror, and straightway something clambered
Heavily from an oak, and dropped, bent double,
To shamble at him zigzag, squat and *******
Headlong he charges down the wood, and falls
With roaring brain--agony--the snap't spark--
And blots of green and purple in his eyes.
Then the slow fingers groping on his neck,
And at his heart the strangling clasp of death.
3.6k
Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee,
The shooting stars attend thee;
And the elves also,
Whose little eyes glow
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.
No Will-o’-th’-Wisp mislight thee,
Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee;
But on, on thy way,
Not making a stay,
Since ghost there’s none to affright thee.
Let not the dark thee cumber:
What though the moon does slumber?
The stars of the night
Will lend thee their light
Like tapers clear without number.
Then, Julia, let me woo thee,
Thus, thus to come unto me;
And when I shall meet
Thy silv’ry feet
My soul I’ll pour into thee.
2k
Wake: the silver dusk returning
Up the beach of darkness brims,
And the ship of sunrise burning
Strands upon the eastern rims.
Wake: the vaulted shadow shatters,
Trampled to the floor it spanned,
And the tent of night in tatters
Straws the sky-pavilioned land.
Up, lad, up, 'tis late for lying:
Hear the drums of morning play;
Hark, the empty highways crying
"Who'll beyond the hills away?"
Towns and countries woo together,
Forelands beacon, belfries call;
Never lad that trod on leather
Lived to feast his heart with all.
Up, lad: thews that lie and cumber
Sunlit pallets never thrive;
Morns abed and daylight slumber
Were not meant for man alive.
Clay lies still, but blood's a rover;
Breath's a ware that will not keep.
Up, lad: when the journey's over
There'll be time enough to sleep.
2k
Thy bower is finished, fairest!
Fit bower for hunter's bride--
Where old woods overshadow
The green savanna's side.
I've wandered long, and wandered far,
And never have I met,
In all this lovely western land,
A spot so lovely yet.
But I shall think it fairer,
When thou art come to bless,
With thy sweet smile and silver voice,
Its silent loveliness.
For thee the wild grape glistens,
On sunny knoll and tree,
The slim papaya ripens
Its yellow fruit for thee.
For thee the duck, on glassy stream,
The prairie-fowl shall die,
My rifle for thy feast shall bring
The wild swan from the sky.
The forest's leaping panther,
Fierce, beautiful, and fleet,
Shall yield his spotted hide to be
A carpet for thy feet.
I know, for thou hast told me,
Thy maiden love of flowers;
Ah, those that deck thy gardens
Are pale compared with ours.
When our wide woods and mighty lawns
Bloom to the April skies,
The earth has no more gorgeous sight
To show to human eyes.
In meadows red with blossoms,
All summer long, the bee
Murmurs, and loads his yellow thighs,
For thee, my love, and me.
Or wouldst thou gaze at tokens
Of ages long ago--
Our old oaks stream with mosses,
And sprout with mistletoe;
And mighty vines, like serpents, climb
The giant sycamore;
And trunks, o'erthrown for centuries,
Cumber the forest floor;
And in the great savanna,
The solitary mound,
Built by the elder world, o'erlooks
The loneliness around.
Come, thou hast not forgotten
Thy pledge and promise quite,
With many blushes murmured,
Beneath the evening light.
Come, the young violets crowd my door,
Thy earliest look to win,
And at my silent window-sill
The jessamine peeps in.
All day the red-bird warbles,
Upon the mulberry near,
And the night-sparrow trills her song,
All night, with none to hear.
2k
You just don't notice
The wrinkles an' lines
She's covered them in fun
Coz her easy smile
Will her airbrush be
Until her race is run
Gold trainers
Worn with blue jeans
Are the icing on the cake
As she boogies
With her old man
With the bar-room in her wake
An' the dixie-band
Don't miss a beat
Black jeans, black shirts, deep south
'Cept the double-bass
On whose poker face
Someone's stuck a smiley mouth
And the clarinet
Awaits his cue
Eyes shut in swaying bliss
While Goldie,
She's gone freestyle
And the front-man gets a kiss
So the trombone slides
An' the susa-phones
Just as cool as a cu-cumber
And the 'Judges rocks
as the chorus rolls
“Your Age Is Just A Number”
Mar 20, 2011
Mar 20, 2011 at 2:21 AM UTC
I heard the noise
from down the stairs
I tried to keep my poise
But it kept giving me a dare
I rose slowly from my slumber
Stairs creaking, under my weight
My fear i tried to cumber
it was early but so late
I heard the noises louder
The chills put me in a new state
But it passed, making me prouder
The noise slowly ceased
Turning up the stairs, I climbed
My head hit the pillow, the noise increased
The noise seemed perfectly timed
Once again I tried to muster
Something deep inside me
To make my courage cluster
This noise wanted me to see
Unlike the first time
I ran down, not being as quiet
In my house, what is making this crime?
Everything seemed calm, without a riot
I turned unknowingly to the right
And just like in my life
Everything I had, clean and tight
Gone. As my heart was struck by a knife
Aug 8, 2010
Aug 8, 2010 at 9:59 PM UTC
I began reading out of spark,
but this little thing has me growling
and I can’t help, but to feed
knee to head and crouching
cornered against walls of a busy cafe
where there are more jaws buzzing and even more capitol
in the money and these flies drone me out
and the words push me in
towards the heated center of feeling
if my heart were a room then it would have an open window because
the fuzzy thing about the lift is that it chooses my head
on top level
to the inclement of mood and allows no cumber
set hallowed and watching
where an angel has fallen,
superfluous in feather
not from grace or worry,
but from break on my lungs with
none of the bulk
and all of the beauty
I am rinsed,
sunken in
revert to push another sell
and the mouths stay open
because the chump will abide
by the cold fortune honey
caught short-changed
and pudgy
looking like the pulled skirt of mother with
curled hands in a toast of the coming season’s weather
and as day pours at fold lines,
the flies really make a killing
which can make a man take notice
of the birds,
and their singing.
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 3:00 PM UTC
Tarnished past how long will it last?
Born in exile what am I to do?
So afraid of the Future, Oh yes how bout you?
Destroy me? You have.
Brought me down til I was nothing.
All because you knew I would be something.
A lot of motivation will get you a long way.
But it takes non stop dedication at the end of the day.
Smile in my face don’t disrespect my back.
Don’t even want to see your face as a matter of fact.
Your tarnishing ways gave me eternal pain.
What can you possibly say that there was to gain?
Tears I couldn’t cry because I never knew they existed.
Tarnished memories leaves my mind twisted.
Trust is a Fear Factor will you loose the game?
But shall I thank you for things will never be the same?
Belittling me, at the same time you grew my mind.
Peace and Joy I have received, I truly hope you find.
Look me in my eyes that’s if you could do.
Pathetic and ashamed I would be too.
The feeling is great when I arise from a slumber.
Your tarnishing ways gave you tarnishing days you can’t cumber.
Jul 8, 2010
Jul 8, 2010 at 11:15 PM UTC
Whispering winds of solemn sorrow
In the mundane hours of the night,
Surmise the falsities of tomorrow,
Spreading dark throughout the light.
Preying upon the minds that dwell,
With woven lies, a web so foul...
Hark! The sounds of voices swell
As the whispers rise into a howl.
Soon settling the sorrow of the traveling fellow...
He never could find his way,
Strumming tomorrow like it were a cello,
Snapping the strings in dismay.
Who--alive for years, never did live,
As his angst and diffidence cumber.
Even the magnanimous can't forgive
Missing dreams of untried slumber.
Remnants of his tortured call
Were swept away in the breeze.
A feeble ripples arduous sprawl,
Replaced by the fray of the seas.
His idle mind tended to wander,
Through yesterday's--before tomorrow,
Distorted pasts of future's squander,
Finding days from which to borrow.
May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 11:39 PM UTC
The sky Teasrs, revealing the heavans
Angelic light pours down upon me
The light is bright, but not blinding
A silhouette begins it's long decent
Even as she falls I am left speechless
unable to move, stunned by beauty
The closer she gets, the further I fall
Falling for her as she falls toward me.
She floats toward me like a feather in the breeze
her delicate feet meet the ground
her eyes meet mine and I freeze
eyes like pools of water, telling me everything
Her soft lips silently fall apart
she utters the words
"You're a cute-cumber"
that's all she said
that's all she needed to say
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 7:02 PM UTC
Morning skies
Streaked with feathered clouds,
My eyes open to the light
Free of the night shrouds,
I turn to the warmth next to me,
She is so beautiful;
She fills me with glee,
Her breathing soft;
I embrace her form,
Her skin so yielding to my touch,
Not of the norm,
I reminisce about those other days,
Id wake up alone, cold, in a daze,
Now the sunlight's rays I welcome,
I look forward to tomorrow,
And more days to come,
Had she an idea
Of what she means to my eyes,
Shed blackmail me,
Tease me, and tell me lies,
But as she wakes from her slumber,
I look into her eyes
As they open without a cumber,
I see the love, joy and admiration;
That she holds for me;
I would not dream of desertion,
Would there not be a body
To those eyes; her face;
I would not care
For nothing more but a trace,
Because with her eyes,
Those sky speckled spheres,
She embraces me; and loves me;
And douses all my fears;
I feel whole, a man;
With someone to love and protect,
She will not want,
She will not need, I will effect...
© okpoet
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 9:52 PM UTC
Her body pulls away, outlying
Ask the mountains
Question the clouds
What is rotation's logic?
Have we spun fallaciously all along?
Communicating with inexact words?
Kissing off-target?
********** an imprecise expression?
She settles now on unapproachable horizon
Learn from the shore
Understand the sea
Neither dare, nor desire, to claim
For the indignity or cumber of a difficult collide
Start anew by holding hands
Discover the "we" in you and her
Ever so gently, allow her to orbit
The offered affection
On her own terms
The heart will again probe for
A returning circuit to attachment
Her body will move closer
Mar 25, 2020
Mar 25, 2020 at 3:24 PM UTC
I cumber into invisible *****
at the corner of my solitude
When I see my path ahead
so full of crowds
waiting for me to bring them
the flower of heaven
they seem so happy
and I can hardly smile looking
at their eyes
There is a wild mushroom
inside my head
everything seems so beautifully frightening
I feel why Plath couldn't ask for more
Courage feels so heavy
that comes naturally with spines of belongings
and there is so much darkness ahead
if only I had a light of in my dreams
a desire that outshines my fear
Can't just forget this warmth
blowing out the clouds from mouth
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 5:43 AM UTC
RETo exist, I shape my gloom, like...
Cubes and Circles, forms of time
A Frail stand, staunch fortress reflect
I seek lone! steps take me further
Stop...
But, an ironic approach upon despair
Replace my tears with shapes and fear
Yet, life circulates inside my veins...
My heart still beats...
I blink, an image at a time...
I blink, two shapes two deaths...
.
Whimpers
"Surrender... It's over, reject your all"
Stake, sanity, scratcHES! KeFUfFlES!
ECHO, ECho, Echo, NUMB.
Silence
Darker hour, feel nothing
Freed by slumber, from cumber
Silence
All plain and pacific, haven!
No shapes, deaths nor hearts to ache
Just life, staunch, replenishing from my tears
Attained repose, as beneath He rot!
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 5:43 PM UTC
Imp boy
What big brown eyes you have
How I wonder what they've seen
What they have passed
So small, so somber
Your aura, I ponder
You simmer in silence
You observe your table
I see that tension, cumber
Built behind your gable
Am I concerned
I'm just in awe
I'm a snow moth attracted
To a dark imp boy, of all...
Nov 12, 2019
Nov 12, 2019 at 6:08 PM UTC
Whispering winds of solemn sorrow
In the mundane hours of the night,
Surmising falsities of tomorrow,
For they fear the dark of divine light.
To prey upon the minds that dwell,
With woven lies, a web so foul...
Hark! The sounds of voices swell
As the whispers rise into a howl.
Settling the sorrow of the traveling fellow,
Who never could find his way,
Strumming tomorrow like it were a cello,
Snapping the strings in dismay.
Who--alive for years, never did live,
As his angst and diffidence cumber.
Even the magnanimous can't forgive
The missing dreams of untried slumber.
Remnants of his tortured call
Were swept away in the breeze.
A feeble ripples arduous sprawl,
Replaced by the fray of the seas.
A mind lost in silent clamor,
Time ridden sands of disease,
Reduced to a mumbling stammer,
Foreboding thoughts of unease.
His idle mind tended to wander,
Through yesterday's--before tomorrow,
Distorting the past for future's squander,
Finding days from which to borrow.
Mar 17, 2017
Mar 17, 2017 at 10:13 PM UTC
This is me
After the battles that made me both strong and weak
after all the agony and the losing streak
Behind the cumber of memories, where I both lived and died
and the absence of emotions where I laughed and cried.
Oh the strength of my youth is fleeing so swiftly
and my being is exposing my every frailty
what I once feared to become is who I have turned to be
Oh, the lost which once was found was taken away from me...
But,
This is me
Though calloused and lost
Though pained and insecure
Though stabbed and wounded
Though forsaken by many
I still live, and for that I am secure
My bleak future is ahead, and with that comes hope
For I have seen in the past what really matters most,
for I believe that the things which can be lost
are things which can be attained once more
So let the hopeless romantic rise
and the dreamer see visions once more
Let my feeble hands and scarred sinews
regain their strength toward the final blow
For my battles are over but my war shall not end
and though each blow becomes tougher-
so tougher too shall I become
I look at my hands, shaking, numb
I recall my dreams, like shadows moving
I feel my heartbeat, strong, yet afraid
and I take my deep breaths to feel my life
This is me.
Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 10:45 AM UTC