Addle Poems

DREAMS WITHIN DREAMS

DREAMS WITHIN DREAMS

I’d just assumed that dreams were in one dimension
But last night, I dreamed that I was dreaming again
Looking back at it now, I know that it sounds insane
But as a world within a world, it can addle the brain
Yet in either dream, there was no detectable tension

For some, it’s hard to separate a dream from reality
And for a few, rare to know if they dreamed at all
Like finding oneself observing at a masquerade ball
With your entrance made through a crumbling wall
But a single dream, however strange, is not plurality

To many, such weird claims might deserve contempt
Just how many planes of a dream can there really be
But explaining it to oneself is never as simple as ABC
As in any dream state the brain can always float free
Yet who can truly remember all of the layers dreamt

Golden Wedding Anniversary

Your racing bike is broken with a bad derailleur.
I look back at my life and admit it’s a failure.
If a daft old hen laying scrambled eggs, so sad, can, 
Then I will concede that I’m an addle-brained madman. 
Like a leafless tree holding a kite frame skeleton, 
Your arms and my legs are no stronger than gelatin. 
As an eagle whose threadbare wings will no longer fly, 
It’s time now for me to find a quiet place to die.

Discombobulation: A Word

What sorts a box -- an enigma,
of course, what else has sauce,
when it apprised of a stigma
it eyes wherefrom the source.
Taste, touch, ... senses play the fiddle
minus some chords, off-tunes,
wayward announces a riddle,
classic ... playing the blues.

Discombobulation, a word
that creates attention,
it's a doer, that is absurd,
a giver of mention,
need not be lengthy, quite disturbed,
more elementary,
there lies the mix, that's somewhat blurred,
most complimentary.

Shorten won't baffle, nor ruffle,
may muddle or addle,
there are trickery, kerfuffle --
but snooze in a cradle,
grounds content, shovel the gravel,
make it your battleground,
make confound this awkward puzzle
by day's end be profound.

Hope that it resolves this fluster,
that sets unease, evolves,
make it a game, a tongue twister,
keep watch till it dissolves,
It'll be a throwback, bewilder
if it grows, we'll keep track,
discombobulation, blister,
made it less from perplex.

The Dogs of War

Release the hounds, the hunt is on,
Man and horse two hundred strong.
On their lips an ancient song,
Riding far as the day is long.

For King and Queen their solemn quest,
A coat of arms upon their chest.
Their loyalty put to the test,
No fear of dying like the rest.

Courage mounted in the saddle,
Moving headlong into battle.
Banners fly and swords will rattle,
Nearer death the mind will addle.

Sweat draining from man, horse, and hounds,
Blood staining fast the fertile grounds.
The casualties of war abounds,
Till victory at last resounds.

If

If Black is beauty
We should have the fury
Ready to bless the scary 
And chase away the treason treasury 
To stand all a one unity

If Africa is great
That all true records she ever chest
Are ours; should it be colligate?
A snatch cum valid blood attest
Or be the genuine far away debate
 
If Man is a true clan
Will he submit to condone
And stand in place for his fan
To watch destruction under his pan 
While taking refuge off plan
 
If Woman is a weak vessel 
Should she be overlooked actionable
Clinch to addle 
While we claim no boss; continue to saddle
For all the pleasure pleasing nestle 

If nothing is to be counted upon
Men will make no peace of anyone 
And find only hell a daemon 
But somethings are to count on
Yet killings are all of fun 

If the aftermath results war
Nigeria becomes what we saw
Eating up the law
Burning in insurgency and hatred raw
Have we more to abhor?

Abracadabra

“Abracadabra, brass candelabra”
Bright, white light, to dark succumb
Ring the ears, trip tongues to slur
Annul sight, dim cornea

Cast your magic, mayhem, havoc
Advance enigma, elude stigma
Danger-gravid, power-avid

“Astral blast, come” cast penumbra
Blunt sweet senses, dense and numb
Rot and blot, aurora blur
Addle brain with morphia


----------

for The A's Have It Poetry Contest
sponsored by Joseph May
written on 09/07/2022

key:
    Starting letters: abracadabra
    Ending letters: abracadabra
    “Alphabetic”
    Alliteration
    Rhyming
    Rhyming and alliteration may overlap
    Last word of 1st stanza rhymes/near-rhymes last word of 3rd stanza

The Blurb

Fed-up folks donned bearskins and hibernated
  Woke up twenty years later, a bit addle-pated
    They figured they'd outlived the worst
    But on their devices a blurb so terse
  Vote for Ivanka, she's expiated; unlike Hunter, who's dissipated

Some Fell Upon Stoney Ground

Seeds were sown on fertile soil while 
SOME FELL upon STONEY GROUND

(This is a poem about one of the latter)

Oh affluent lady in smart design
Scurrying to Tim’s bar to taste of wine
But one and all can see beneath the paint
Scars that pay heed to a lost soul so taint.
Consumption foremost doth addle her mind
When desperate to track a daily grind
Eyes witness testament of her flurry
A lustful grin contrives her to hurry.
With a shaking hand crystal flute to raise
Each sup hallelujah in silent praise
An embarrassing glance though not a care
Her inner most pain bared for all to share.
Hastily she consumes her liquid meal
Her body pulsates unable to heal 
A repetitive shot needed to please
No unsociable craving to be ease.
Silver Jag’s outside all bright and gleaming
She fights with the keys her body screaming
A need to be alone and get away
So she can measure the rest of the day.

© Harry J Horsman 2022

Cleaning Out the Junk Drawer

I am cleaning out my junk drawer 
It's been on my list to do 
My junk is over-flowing 
It's now long past over-due 

Inside is my collection 
Of things I sometimes use 
Bits and nails and thumbtacks 
And a dozen odd-size screws 

There's a hammer and some pliers 
And a pair of worn-out snips 
Rubber bands in many sizes 
And a load of paper clips 

Two broken pair of glasses 
That I should have thrown away 
I put them there three years ago 
Swore I'd fix them both one day 

A dull blade pair of scissors 
And an un-used long nail file 
Pens and pencils and two note pads 
And an eraser, look-like crocodile 

I keep finding things inside my drawer 
That I swear I've never used 
This junk has left me addle-pated 
Oh my God, I'm so...(((CONFUSED)))  


'Form J- Just Write Me A New Poem' Poetry Contest 
Sponsor Constance La France 
3/22/2022

Perfume

mystical sunday morning of a smile
an inward lightly scented
point of view

elusive wisps of crisp air
jazz brushing across the wet, warm sun/sky
of bluish, outstretched
blue

uncluttered by any
unremitting
angel.  bad or good.
restored form grand sorrows, or
not.
whether fettered to a tall roost, or
fallen to the hard
ground

no conjuring up of
clanking, carping
ghost
chains .
clanking & complaining about
half - witted
histories

no horses to ride my thoughts too wide.  no thoughts to skittishly hurry
my horses
limping
by

scattered.  odd and addle -
brained
sludge stuck in
gobbling.  lying.  whining.  and short - 
sighted

the epiphanies of these horrors,
they skate away
for the moment
salted to taste, with
all the time in the
world

this moment with its
vague sense of
well - being

this momentary
minute
with its vague, comforting
sense of
density

Paddle Your Own Canoe

P-addle your own canoe, 
A-ugust nineteenth Saturday; 
U-se your independence, 
L-et your weakness fade away. 

A-s you paddle your own canoe, 
S-how the world that you can; 
U-nder the wide blue sky, 
N-ever ask help from any man. 
C-rossing the running river 
I-s your own breakthrough; 
O-pen your mind to initiative, 
N-ow paddle your own canoe.

Ode To the Earthling

Ode to the earthling addle the atom
Ode to the shrieking neutrino bloom
sing to the crack in the hole of the blandon
the wrestling angels are restless tonight.

God of the moon glow blow her away
Teet of the Titan milk fire-holes
Her radii squared by a too lovely dress
a peck for her rages a pickling cure
Her circle of cages the blinding alure
Out of her graces pop-over Job
Fling the new races and say nothing more

light seeping under the lazed ocean salts
The hammering seasons chained to their vaults
Dawns a last ocean's fratrical beat
bursting in ice melting in heat
now that the sun's last rite is retired
The Earth is a wind- is ice- is fire
and nothing more
and nothing more
and nothing more
and nothing more.

A Violette- He Was Nineteen

He met her in Dallas
In the Silver Palace
Said her name was Alice -
He was nineteen

She said,"Let's join forces!"
He said,"I ride horses -
We've seperate courses,
You are pristine!"

But she had known lovers
And seen 'neath the covers
Of more than most others -
Places unseen

He said,"I herd cattle
My brain's 'bout to addle
From sittin' a saddle
And in between."

But she wasn't worried
As he hadn't scurried
Or left as he flurried
In the extreme


She learned of things ranchin'
Taught him the styles dancin'
And rolled her eyes glancin'-
Tearing saline

They wed 'midst great laughter
And promised love after
The years would move faster -
He was nineteen

3-28-18
For Mick Talbot's Poetry Contest "A Violette"

Lim'Rik Flats Giggle-Of-The-Day Award

the staff here at lim’rik flats
has noticed a shortage of laughs
poetry soupers
need some whoopers
Please double your sillies by halfs

And just so you will not get bored
the staff here will give an award
“giggle-of-the-day”
 is easy to play
(and playing is half the reward!)

There on your tongue, on the tip,
is a jest, a joke or a quip
turn it loose, silly
it might be a dilly
Don’t be roosting aloof with tight lip

Not everyone is a clown
but better a groaner than frown
an addle pratfall
just may be your call
you might even light up the town

Lim’rik Flats is, of course, biased
We will pick the one which laughs highest
we are subjectives
but give no invectives
and we’ll praise everyone for their tryest!


*if you see “GOTD!” under your sillies, you have won!

Disappearing Reflection

Time left me here along time ago.
With addle sensability, saying I don't know.
Looking for an avenue to find somewhere to go.
For there are nothing but blank pictures on the wall to show.

Only insperation is left to guide the way.
Hopefully theres enough left so that I can stay.
Right here within the emptiness that fills up each new day.
So what I need to understand is what I have to say.

A woven web of sanity, intertwined with love.
To navigate a cold cruel worlds endless push and shove.
We wear our masks to do our tasks with bitten lower lip.
But in the course of being human, we're surely bound to slip.

So round and round and Deja Vu and up and down and whoopdi do.
Until we spin out of control with nothing left but to rewiew.
A paper filled with endless thought within our mind we finally caught.
With only hope left to endure that it is not just all for naught.

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