Best Bobbling Poems


Echoing Thoughts

It’s a recurring thought –
Over and over again –
Reverberating in my head,
Bouncing back and forth,
Reeling up and down like a Yo-yo,
Like a boomerang that keeps coming back,
Like a song stuck in your head,
A thought that gnaws at your will to live,
Like an army of termites devouring 
your soul making you hollow inside,
Like the waves of the sea
lapping its shores ceaselessly.

It’s a nagging thought
to just shut off everything,
Like turning off the light switch
and walking away;
A thought to strip off all my
worries and cares of the world,
Like a snake shedding its skin,
And just wandering away,
Leaving behind petty rivalry,
envy, jealousy, shallow ties,
The promises and perils of life,
And to step forth renewed, reborn,  
into a new place with no identity,
no name, no past, no aspirations--
just living for the day
As I like, As I please, 
With no vagaries of life,
No yearning for paradise.
Walking away folk free 
unrestricted by time or space,
customs, creed or the rules of the law.

But this thought
Like an active volcano ever brewing 
and rumbling but never erupting,
Like a seed sowed with care and nurturing
but never sprouting, never coming to fruition.
It just keeps kneading and churning
Forever bobbling in the doldrums
Performing boondoggle tasks
Bearing the burden of the world like Atlas,
Unable to sigh or sneeze,
Fearful that a sudden moment
The slightest shift might cause
an upheaval in someone’s life.

Ah, the woes of life!
Why thou linger willy-nilly in my vicinity?
Why thou not forsaketh me?
Go and befriend the dark, foreboding clouds
And burst down upon some distant shores.

Let some sun shine upon me,
Let love gather me in her warm embrace,
Bequeath to me days rife with joy
and mellow moonlit nights,
Let my path run some distance straight
and not twist or turn at whim,
Let there be spring in my seasons
instead of the cold and bare winter,
Let me rejoice in the day’s toil
And earn me the night’s repose –

It’s a recurring thought,
Over and over again,
Reverberating in my head...

Wait just a minute!
Didn’t we go over that already?


~09/10/15
"Inside My Head" contest by John lawless
Categories: bobbling, life, muse,
Form: Free verse

A Slice of Lemon

The plaguing tictocs, of the grandfather clockProduces an electric current upon my skinAwakening cobwebs in my mind like a frockThe horrific chagrin begs the question of sinA subtle distinction mid death and extinctionNot entitled to a timely refund by the kinetic forceA fiery necklace swings upon this skeletal fictionI did refuse the hole, by heralding a sharpened torseAre the moments, beyond this grave season,dreamt of in terrific lucidity,bobbling plum sensesOh the howling of the bawbling ratty eyed demonPeace is divided,as the gathering pain intensesAngular resolutions, well up on pivoting emotions,cutting deeply across time and space saddling,the age old answers of equal but swinging notionsShuddering leathery ribbons, as deaths door is rattlingA sharp Hispanic nard tortures the flaring nostrilsAwaking fatigued, in the hall of ill-reputed womenPraising an opiated green fairy, under doomsday’s till
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: bobbling, addiction, betrayal, death, dream,
Form: Rhyme

Forced Anger

Now anger had come to penetrate me, and evil has come to kiss me softly...tension exploded my v***** to squirt waterfalls of mayhem. 
I try to close my legs but find that I have been impregnated with a vengeance and her twin disappointment.
I begin to birth vengeance and disappointment into existence and now hungry, they nurse on catastrophe and burp revenge!
Lately, anger seems to be having an affair with me sporadically. As I persist to break up, anger beats me with torture!
I awake from uncertainty and get hit with despair. Now I try to reconcile with such wickedness, too late anxiety forces my hands.
I gasp for air and anger now emerges to propel me into a whirlwind of confusion followed by malignant chaos.
As the end is far from over, my nightmare truly begins as anger passes me like a blunt to atrocious
This whole situation is agonizing, as atrocious has the audacity to use vengeance and disappointment against me.
My blood is boiling with animosity, my rancor behavior is at a point of no return.
I gorgonize from this whole ordeal and feel trapped. I feel like I’m bobbling just to get a deep breath 
Suddenly, a familiar spirit arises with resentment and rejection. Both, I’ve known far too long. I try to stand up, weak, but I manage.
Maintaining to hold my head high, anger whispers in my ear, get ready they are coming.
Without hesitation in my present situation, I run! I run as fast as I can. I now am on the floor because anger has tripped me so burden and fear could catch up with me.
I crawl and I crawl to manage in the dark to make it around the corner and find a spot to hide. Devastated and distraught, I finally start to rise from the floor to see demise laughing at me.
Categories: bobbling, abuse, anger, anxiety, deep,
Form: Personification

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Premium Member Born To Lilt, Laughter Inbred

Luck 'tis said lies bobbling in Guinness head
The more you savor, the more luck you spread
With songs, banter, tales and jokes
Better done by Irish folks
Born to lilt a story, laughter inbred.
Categories: bobbling, fun, ireland,
Form: Limerick

Mothers Pearls

Mother’s Pearls

Pure pearls bobbling along, huge,
Mum wants me each day to wear, 
Dance gear in grandmother’s day, 
Conversation here is psychiatrical, 
The pearl is a sequence suggestive, 
Of society’s progress of modernity: 
Even the pearls don’t want to be worn.
Categories: bobbling, emotions, family, feelings, grandmother,
Form: Verse

Premium Member The Birds On the Farm

Ten years ago, there was a cock
Who lived up to his name.
For though he left us all well-fed,
He left the yard in shame.

Replaced was he by one who was
A very silly goose.
That goose got cooked; he cooked himself;
A danger being loose!

And with him was a vulture,
And that vulture sure was mean.
He swooped down, getting us in war
that plucked us all quite clean.

I could not rest until the two of them 
Were good and gone,
Praying I’d not have to watch
That grey goose on the lawn. 

Another - grinning, wrinkly-necked -
On TV bobble-bobbling,
Paced with worn-out rhetoric
He was fond of gobble-gobbling.

And by him was his sidekick,,
Female version of a “Quayle.”
I hoped inside the white barn
that chick would never dwell.

The other bird, a darker fowl,
“said” he didn’t want a war.
He was called by some a “chicken"
But at least cared for the poor!

So for November’s bird
He was voted on one day -
The turkey that was chosen
Before Thanksgiving Day.

Two years have past and nothing's changed
The same old cuckoo song.
And I don’t see a good bird yet
To even come along.

How sad there’s no bird like the one 
who from a forest came,
Then presided in the white barn.
Now a statue bears his name.

Like an eagle, symbol of
this stretch of land was he.
But since his time, few birds have flown
much higher than a tree.

It’s geese and quails and chickens
and turkeys growing here
while people on this vast great land
are filling up with fear.

I'd hoped our newest turkey were
an eagle in disguise,
and that he’d  get to take us soaring
into bluer skies.

For how much longer can our farm
keep running all amuck,
in which case we’re all better off
electing Donald Duck!


For Nate Dilt's "I Hate Politicians" contest
Categories: bobbling, politicalthanksgiving, bird, bird, thanksgiving
Form: Personification


Premium Member Sailing With Winds That Blew On Blue

Defrocked yachts on moorings in the bay
Pull at tethers like dogs yearning for a walk
The ruffled blue waters, rippling white glary glints
Sea of sparkles, gentle tiny flashing lights like town twinkling at night.

Listen closely as the bobbling yachts creak, groan, rock and lilt
Whispering and murmuring sea shanties to each other.
Hoist the main, unfurl the jib
Drop the mooring rope, unleash the boat to sail.

Horses loves to run, sailboats loves to sail
Straining, heeling over, yielding to wind
But contriving to trick the wind to grab its power
To drive the yacht forward through the sea.

The waves are sliced through, and surface waters parted
As the sailboat flings delightfully forward
Relishing the sail, frolicking with crew
Sailing free on true blue waters 
With true and steady winds, that blew and blew on blue all day.
Categories: bobbling, sea,
Form: Free verse

Where Then Could My Hatred Burden

~ (~) The-Sun-rising-growing-high-evolving-in the tender emotion of-the-day, fresh-honey-
dew-growing-wild-shimmering-there-lying on the new blue-morning grasses reminds-me, as-
I-reminisce - cookies fall with Him always landing where they will and so time will forever tell 
the story... like the sweetness of the smell of the honeysuckle swaying in the warm Summer 
breeze, His love I seek it as though I were dying -  

because merciful I know as gentle winds amble along from the humble folds of His hands... my 
soul; depends-upon it - and so; I can fall asleep... knowing that in His heart tonight, my-heart-
being-surrendered to-Him, tether tide... I'll always be protected, as I drift away to Him as I lye 
my head down safe and secure - amid the eternal light shining down on me from that Mighty 
Hill... in Heaven -  

as harmony, hope-and-happiness all the joy that love can bring; lilac flowers swaying away to 
and fro as the gentle breezes whisper quietly over them caressing them casting themselves-
off-farther-and-farther-aloft a ways-up-higher-down-lower-and-within-them leaning them 
side-to-side-then-again across the growing cascade of the meadows rising up to greet the 
ascending hills - humming-birds-darting through the sky rising-up-falling-coming down-again- 
promenading crisscrossing around-and-around one another hovering together...  suckling on 
the maple-sap -  

soft tender wings young hands blue-bonnet butterfly's-fumbling around fluttering bobbling- 
and-dancing about the dandelion patches - tasty buttery pollen-pockets stuck to their tongue - 
humble honey bumble bees with their tiny little pouches overflowing with this same sweet 
nectar-of life bumbling-on-by-beside-me - and as I see it... the Moon rising high over the 
mantis - tonight... I find myself praying - oh if only my struggle for peace were as open, and 
my freedom as certain - where then could my hatred burden... ? (~) ~


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YqUsAHTUPTU
© James Long  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: bobbling, inspirationallove,
Form: Prose Poetry

Recurring Thoughts

It’s a recurring thought–
Over and over again–
echoing in my head,
Bouncing back and forth,
Reeling up and down like a Yo-yo,
Like a boomerang that keeps coming back,
Like a song stuck in your head,
A thought that gnaws at your will to live,
Like an army of termites devouring your soul
making you hollow from within,
Like the waves of the sea 
lapping its shore incessantly.

A thought nagging my soul,
Why not to just shut off everything?
Like turning off the lights,
turning around and walking away;
A thought to strip away 
all my worries and cares of the world,
Like a snake shedding its skin
to just wander off leaving behind 
petty rivalry, envy, jealousy, shallow ties,
The strife and the peril, 
The platitude and the contradiction of life.

And to step out renewed, reborn,
into a new place with no identity,
no name, no past, no expectations
for the future – just living for today;
As I like. As I please.
With no vagaries of life,
No yearning for paradise.
Walking away folk free
unrestricted by time or space,
customs, creed or the rules of the law.

But this thought
Like an active volcano,
Ever brewing and rumbling 
but never erupting,
Like a seed sowed with care and nurturing
but never sprouting, never coming to fruition.
It just keeps kneading and churning
Forever bobbling in the doldrum,
Performing boondoggle tasks,
Bearing the burden of the world like Atlas,
Unable to sigh or sneeze,
Fearful that a sudden moment,
The slightest shift 
might cause an upheaval in someone’s life.	

Ah, the woes of life,
Why thou linger willy-nilly in my vicinity?
Why thou not forsaketh me?
Go and befriend the dark, foreboding clouds
And burst down over some distant shores.

Let some sun shine upon me,  
For once, let love 
gather me in her warm embrace,
Let me not suffer
for having loved too well,
Bequeath to me the days rife with joy
and mellowed moonlit nights,
Let my path run some distance straight
and not twist or turn at whim,
Let there be spring in my seasons
instead of the gray cold and bare winter,
Let me rejoice in the day’s toil
and earn me the night’s repose,

It’s a recurring thought,
Over and over again,
echoing in my head...

Wait just a minute,
Didn’t we go over that already?
Categories: bobbling, dark, desire,
Form: Free verse

An empty closet and cliffhanger

An empty closet and cliffhanger
A gift to little George,
A member of Windsor Castle.

Mood, over mindfulness , 
They are riverine songs
Moody, churned up
Uncertain and floral
Rejoicing whence
The turbid and morbid
Glum and glee
And a morn and
A corn
These all are

Cosmos and a cosmic

Emotions are changing textures
Where these all are
Changing surface 
On an eggplant
The purple surface 
Soothes 
Where the goosebump
Of the green begins

A goosebump and a texture

An empty closet are lonely wool, woolen warmth
Yesterday and a bobbling
Runs along, unsung
Over boards the present, 
Tense and I 
All infuses and surges
To surmise
Greetings again
Hungover a softer sky
And a  luminous, chandelier 

Even though an uneven sky.
Categories: bobbling, best friend,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member A Woman in a Pale Green Dress

A woman in a pale green dress 
On a pier, with her handbag  
Tide is going to progress
Waves roll faster, lowered flag
Slightly quivers on the wind
Someone orders the high tea  
A lifeline wasn’t firmly pinned
Now it’s bobbling in the sea
Sunlight weakens, sky gets grayer
Waiters with their trays go by,
Serving reasons for a prayer
But one's memory won’t try  
Then you bend, over the table,
Smiling, whispering in my ear 
And a horn blows, I’m unable 
Your sweet joking words to hear.
Categories: bobbling, emotions, feelings, sea, woman,
Form: Rhyme

Bobble Heads

I watch all the bobble heads,
as they whiz on by,
through, around, under and over
leaping in giant strides.

Not a care for the others, 
just push on by, stuck in the reality they call their lives. 
Not a smile for miles bobble heads just bobbing along, 
scattered in every direction like the four winds.

I cant help wonder why they conform,
to a society that make them unhappy, yet still carry on 
bobbling each day in dismay, 
caught in the movements, a symphony of waves.

Everywhere you look on any given day
you'll see all the bobble heads flowing off the trains,
forcing their way through, off to work they go, 
with all their heads bobbling, bobbling in tune.

M.Mahauariki © 2010
Categories: bobbling, life,
Form:

The Stream of Life

Mostly I sit on the banks reflecting on its power.
Will I ever dare its careening currents
that seem to so casually bounce from rock to shore?

I dip a toe in now and then.
Yet fear follows me, constantly confining the natural flow
pulling me toward its darkened depths.

I have on occasion
jumped into the waters
bobbling, sinking, rising
tossing within the currents.

The ride was ferociously frightening
	     intense
                  Chilling
                       liberating.

But tortured and bruised
I seek the healing soil of land
before I toss myself again
into the beckoning, frolicking force
          	of life
	            of love
	                 of destiny.
Categories: bobbling, life,
Form: Free verse

If There is a -ph reason, what would you be, there, rather than, here?

I, eye, with my little spy, the colors of the abacus.
The woolen pattern and bobbling often for a poncho, a season
They were giggling throughout my first semester
Got  a little bit  dim in the next season
And downward spiral she knows, for a round trip to fresno, frisco and the nearby reason.
What is storytelling to you? From the coping strategy discussion room, the counselor asked me.
I tried to answer vehemently even though the dream or I, or the dreamer in strumming
Were uncomfortable in diction, and appendix and often miriam, so 
-Beyond one way CBT and dual controller DBT, this is a brainstorming beyond, and even so-
-How so? Did you see me fishy? In irrationality?
-No. In a rented apartment tenant situation, who else is there, other than your childhood plumber?
But you learned so many terms to fill in between often lost in the deepest try to find the proper diphthong!
And when the water supply was shut off, you knew what you did there!
And yet, he is not your motherly queue, still, he cleaned it for you!
One part of you is still succinct, telling he gets paid for the job and often so!
But somewhere you knew he knew his stuff, and it is about you too!
So, hold courage to the reason, not to the treason, often it is purgatory and involuntary and so
And take courage that you are too! For every kind of other end grizzly bear reason
The charmin’ bear and the bare necessity and the simple bare necessity
The toastmaster and the three quarter sleeves and the stuck up situation
One of them must be a see through
As there after whittling down with process of elimination, (POE)
This is the queue and the rest to be phonetic too!

Jun 11,2024
Categories: bobbling, death of a friend,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member Brain Washed


If only I could wash my brain 

My mind would be so clean 

Then certainly I would be so sane 

And no way to be mean 

I’d scrub away all the pain I had 

Scrub away all the bad hair days 

I'd scrub away, scrub away, scrub away 

All the awful news that’s bad and sad

With soap-on-a-rope I-be-no-dope 

With bubbles bobbling from my pot 

With suds I’d be your bud 

I’d change the world with a single thot 

Never again would my head get hot 

And everyone would think like me . . . NOT! 

Yet everyone everywhere started to just have fun 

No more head games, no more games that are lame

Just play, dance, and sing has a good ring   to live by 

Grow Money Trees where money were leaves 

And everything purchased was for free 

My head’s full of cotton candy rainbow dreams 

I wish for the impossible possible plea 

“Wake Up!” is what I’d scream

From this dream within a dream 

"Let’s all wash our brains from the same river stream. "
Categories: bobbling, innocence, leaving, longing, loss,
Form: Rhyme
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