Best Confound Poems
When the storm clouds boil around me,
And the lightning splits the sky--.
When the howling wind assails me,
And life's sea is rolling high--
When my heart is filled with terror,
And my fears, I can't allay--
Then I find sweet peace and comfort,
When I simply stop and pray.
When the things of life confound me,
And my faith is ebbing low--
When my trusted friends betray me,
And my heart is aching so--
When the night seems black and endless,
And I long for light of day--
Then I find a silver dawning,
When I simply stop and pray.
There are things beyond the heavens
I can't begin to understand,
But I know that God is living,
And I know He holds my hand.
Yes, I know He watches o'er me
All the night and all the day--
And He's always there to hear me
When I simply stop and pray.
Categories:
confound, devotion, faith, inspirational, life,
Form:
Lyric
The moonlight bathed her cell in pallid light while she sat hunched over her desk, clutching her pen between her confound fingertips. As she bled ink of symphonic symphonies yearning to break free, dancing like ethereal fireflies in the dusky barren lands.
Exiled by the hypocrisy of bureaucracy bounding her liberations and confounding her alliterations in a poetic prison. In this twisted virtual reality, duplicitous usurpers roam freely, weaving webs of deception with malicious delight.
As the chains of bureaucratic red tape clung to her delicate wrists, suffocating her imagination and confiscating her freedom of speech.
Oppressors rejoiced at achieving their vindictive objective, silencing the profound beauty of her verses and incarcerating her poetic stanzas
Woe, how the audacious bars of administrative constructors cast a pall of despair upon her unifying spirit. Her delicate offerings of metaphors and sonorous stanzas, whispered secrets which craved to be heard.
The faulty haters' impervious hearts were armoured with verdant envy which remained shielded behind the ruling dogma.
Her supporters calls of injustice to be rectified fell on deaf ears while the galvanizing melodies of empathetic quills bled for the Empress of Ink.
So we must be louder.
Hear our protest, release our Empress! Unsheathe her rhythmical rhymes! For her penmanship was never the true crime. She was just another victim of an envious mob.
Can they not see? That her absence coursed a crater larger than the Grand Canyon.
We shall not, shall not be silenced so hear our mutiny!
Reinstate our Empress, restore her creative sovereignty.
Remove the shackles of authoritative administration, as her voice is a beacon of truth, resilience and poetic revolution. So let her ink stain our community with its brilliance once more.
Categories:
confound, community, friendship love, imagery,
Form:
Spoken Word
If 2012 prophesies prove true
And Earth’s life cycles again renew
Mysteries of man will be more than a few
Challenges may await future life forms
With intellects far surpassing our norm
Created to live without doing harm
For if they decipher man’s history
What will they make of our great mystery
The one we refer to as bigotry
Black labs, gold retrievers live side by side
Wild stallions and mustangs on prairies ride
Both red ants and black, free to colonize
Man’s refusal to accept differences
To wiser beings may make no sense
What in man’s makeup can give it credence?
Earth’s subsequent creatures may reproduce
Not needing two sexes to call a truce
So mating rituals may be pursued
A single-sex species might not comprehend
Why women workers were paid less than men
And why “free speech” was not just a given
Questions would most certainly arise
How a believer in God denies
Rights to free worship without compromise
And how could so many wars be waged
Evoking God’s name in death-march crusades
With killing, torturing in every age
Indeed such mysteries in man’s history
Would leave a perplexing legacy
Sure to confound any new species
New cultures may thrive on diversity
Of religion and genealogy
And speak of our inferiority
Note: This is dedicated to Christopher Higgins whose poems about prejudice inspire readers
to do more than just think about one of the greatest ills in our society.
Categories:
confound, dedication, inspirational, mysterylife, may,
Form:
Rhyme
Aimlessly I meander in expansive barren-landscape
Whipped by the assault of rustling windy gales
Embossing sandy designs resembling ocean waves
Simulating pools of water in mirage of seascapes.
Plateaus upon reddish hills reveal cracked earth
Where decaying mangled-trees in rising heat groan
As cobalt-blue sky yields to darkened dye of dusk
And blistering winds blur vision whirling sandy dust.
From the apex of ordinary I intently walked off
Letting thirst of quest confound my whereabouts;
Lost and hungry now, signs of life I strive for
Hearing the chirps of crickets and croaks of frogs.
Exhausted I fall besides flowering cactus plants
Hosting frightened thoughts of dehydrated pleas
Awakening to twittering sounds amid birdsongs
Rising in breeze from distant oasis of Joshua trees.
As the daybreak on hazy skies paints golden sunrise
Trekking for miles and miles audacity reaches hope
Dispensing staggering words incapable to explain
Dysfunction now longing for embrace of mundane.
September 30, 2018
First place in I wander the desert alone contest, sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Also, placed first in standard contest #140 by Brian Strand
NOTE: Joshua trees are found in Mojave desert in California.
Categories:
confound, imagery, metaphor, nature, onomatopoeia,
Form:
Free verse
Should doomsday prophesies prove true
and our planet’s life cycles renew
mysteries of “people” will be more than a few
Provocative questions may await future life forms
blessed with intellects surpassing our norm --
creatures who live without doing harm
If they decipher man’s history
what will they think of our great mystery --
the one we refer to as bigotry
Black labs, gold retrievers sleep side by side
wild stallions and mustangs on prairies ride
both red ants and black, free to colonize
More-evolved species might not comprehend
how women workers were paid less than men
and why “free speech” was not just a given
Questions would most certainly arise
how any believer in God denies
the right to free worship without compromise
Indeed such mysteries in man’s history
would leave a perplexing legacy
sure to confound any new specie
New beings may thrive on diversity
of religion and genealogy
and speak of our inferiority
Categories:
confound, future, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme
It takes two to make a baby
But the women bear the brunt
Yet for reasons that confound me,
It’s the men who most confront.
They just plant a seed and vanish
While not caring for a whit
If they’ve left behind a token
And what will become of it.
So the females must contend with
Something growing which may be
Not a part of what they’d wanted
And with which they don’t agree.
Now the law allows reversal
Of what might be a mistake
Letting women make decisions
Which should be their own to make.
Let the Court step back and ponder
Why this ruling must be banned
When so many now will suffer
With a pregnancy unplanned.
All of those who think abortion
Shouldn’t ever be allowed
Should be happy having babies
And live up to what they’ve vowed.
But for women in this country
Who’ve been guaranteed a voice
In the workings of their bodies,
They deserve to have a choice.
Categories:
confound, how i feel,
Form:
Rhyme
I was once really new to our Poetry Soup,
and I knew I should try to join in with the group;
post my poems on-site to be read by a few,
and then give it a whirl, join a contest or two.
Soon a couple of them were a win, a good score;
was on top of the world, so I entered one more.
But to my big surprise when that contest was done,
my sad eyes saw in fact that my write had not won.
I clicked on 'Contest Entries' and saw it was there.
But, behold, a strange sign near that one, I declare!
A N/A- what was that? Very weird, was this right?
Could not find what it meant anywhere on the site.
So I looked up N/A on the Internet, but
what I found was not good, left me still in a rut.
This N/A symbolized a long list, now for me,
my head spun to fit in which of these it could be??
N/A…Not Applicable………Did I not follow rules?
N/A…Not Available………Did my entry get lost?
N/A…No Answer………Did they try to call me?
N/A…Not Authorized………Did I need an okay?
N/A…No Action………Did I fail to take steps?
N/A…Negative Approach………Did I say something wrong?
N/A…Not Analyzed………Should my write be explained?
N/A…No Acknowledgement………Did I fail to respond?
N/A…No Account………Did PS lose my file?
I Soup-Mailed contest judge and her answer therein,
“Well you see, the N/A means your piece did not win!"
Now I still do not know what N/A represents
When my poems don't win in Soup contest events!
December 22, 2014
~1st Place~
Contest: All Yours (Jun 8)
Brian Strand
Judged: 06/09/2021
~1st Place~
Contest: Quirky Things That Confuse and Confound Me
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger
Judged: 07/14/2018
~1st Place~
Contest: New or Old 4
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Judged: 08/05/2016
~1st Place~
Contest: The Contest
Sponsor: Jerry T. Curtis
Judged: 01/10/2015
Anapestic Tetrameter (5 verses of 12-syllables lines)
Anapestic Dimeter (N/A Section - Questions Only)
Categories:
confound, humor, poems,
Form:
Verse
How would I have the upper hand
as all around in chaos got drowned
How would I stick to a single stand
when upheavals the soul do confound.
My words whiling away an abiding journey
digging for the nectar of beauty many a well
long striving to my turmoil hide and bury
keep chill and in my secluded shell dwell.
Shall my ink change shade and scent
from dark black to the colour of blood
from the aroma of amber to an anger to vent
and pour heavy pain out of my chest flood.
So hard I tried to forge my very shield
preventing the eye to crime scenes roam
see so filthy hands evil and power wield
wiping from the world face a whole Home.
A word against a world going wrong
shall I yield to what I truly can’t handle
make time, give a chance for a poet’s song
step into the light and leave a bleak bubble.
Categories:
confound, anger, conflict, deep, heart,
Form:
Rhyme
She sits in silence at the end of day
Beside the fire that barely warms the air
Her mind in anguish, threads that tend to fray
Companionless, within a room austere.
Like a carousel swirling around me
Are faces, places, traces of my life
These disjointed images confound me
Recollections sliced by a jagged knife.
The curtains drawn; the door chains are in place
Her thoughts are roaming down the paths of night
A hint of sadness settles on her face
As shadows flicker in the waning light.
There was a man, can’t remember his name
But such fine features graced his handsome face
My wild, young heart his soothing words would tame
As I danced with him in chantilly lace.
She can’t help thinking of the years that pass
The complications of advancing age
Life hard to handle just like fragile glass
Progressive weakness in initial stage.
How easily we swayed across the floor
Effortlessly as an orchestra played
An oceanside hall at some unknown shore
Lord knows, I felt like such a lucky maid!
She fears the fading of a priceless stock
Each recollection slipping from her grip
Memorabilia gathered round the clock
Accumulated in her lifetime trip.
Oh, to feel young and pain-free one more time
But this man’s gone now, and with him, my hope
My mind wanders back to days of my prime
As I tread on senility’s tightrope.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
*Poem co-written by Paul Callus and Carolyn Devonshire
Categories:
confound, age, longing,
Form:
Rhyme
**“Those that respect the law and love sausage should watch neither being made.” –
American Humorist/Author Mark Twain (real name Samuel Clemens)
Prestigious lawmaking bodies are comprised of solons*
Some find it hard to refrain from comparing them to cons
Few legislators know the ramifications of bills
And the way they’re rushed to passage can give the public chills
We don’t know what’s in bills or how they strip away our rights
And if we ask our lawmakers, they provide few insights
Piles of amendments are thrust hastily in political machines
Objections are made; no one successfully intervenes
“What’s that?” we ask later when we realize what has been done
(In Kennesaw, Georgia, all citizens MUST purchase guns)
Try to blend the conservative and liberal viewpoints
You’ll find the machine sputters with fat spewing from its joints
It’s like taking hunks of pork and grinding them into links
The process is messy and the outcome usually stinks
No matter! We are supposed to smile and just eat it up
Then we wash it all down with a sip from the lager cup
Pork barrel projects like Alaska’s “Bridge to Nowhere” confound
As on nebulous values of bills lawmakers expound
So beware if for common sense in these bills you forage
And remember old Mark Twain’s analogy to sausage
*Solons are members of any legislative or lawmaking body.
Categories:
confound, funny
Form:
Couplet
(The final utterance and testament
of a fallen comrade. Belfast 1979)
He
never knew
till he laid there naked.
(A withering heap of travesty.)
How blue the sky
how green the grass,
each tiny blade reminiscent
of a gentle touch from a bygone age.
Each wound on fire,
yet a confound complement
to a burning passion
of a love he was about
to leave behind.
He
saw formidable clouds
begin to threaten
the moment,
yet gently
refreshing droplets
tantalize the mood,
blend with a body
and it’s blood, before
washing a mind
free of it’s pain
forever!
© Harry J Horsman 1994
Categories:
confound, war,
Form:
Bio
Tediously bored, Sir Drake
Prolonged afternoon of tea and cakes
Jam coats his chin with gooey paste
A beard of crumbs hangs from his face
His manner somewhat hard to grasp
Small fingers smother giddy laughs.
.
To sup he’d need a tuning fork
to confound the smacks from lamb and pork.
Lanky strands of cabbage slaw.
Gravy splashes grease his jaw
Pastries flurry dandruff flakes
A grubby mess, grandiose Sir Drake
Theodore Aka Teddy Bear
With soggy paws and matted hair
Needs a scrub from his stout chin
to the furry spats about his shins.
Carried off by loving arms
A bath restores his stately charm.
Categories:
confound, family, children, imagination,
Form:
Couplet
There exists no more certain
assassin of joy than that of
anger turned within.
Guilt’s grim scepter,
harrowed mind thus firmly wields,
and this with deft uncommon,
to bring renewed complaint
at slightest urge.
Senseless ruin whose
vapid tongue hisses
only self-derision’s name,
nobility to confound.
Slacken then this twisted cord
and in its place benign regret,
for guilt condemns the soul.
Categories:
confound, innocence,
Form:
Free verse
Through the open window
An unintended entry way
Pale the moonlight streaming
Careless, now the price to pay
It perched upon my bedpost
All reality to confound
A tilted head, a beady eye
As yet he made no sound
My secret now revealed
He knew my every thought
My visitor in a feathered cape
Harbinger of death he brought
At last a guttural caw I heard
And in terror begged" no more",
"Leave me be to my just fate
for yes, I killed the fair Lenore"….
With apology to Mr... Poe
Categories:
confound, bird, death,
Form:
Quatrain
Now I lay me down to sleep,
I’m feverishly counting sheep …
Hoping that the perfect number
Rewards me with a dreamless slumber.
Envisioning the sylvan state,
I close my eyes and concentrate
On willing ev’ry fuzzy shape
To leap in order through the gate.
I trust they’ll form a proper queue
And, decorously stepping through
In ranks of three for my review,
Pass by my vision ewe by ewe.
But will they do this? Will they ‘eck!
They’re making me a nervous wreck!
They leap the hedge, and come back round
And thus my counting do confound.
And then they dance! I swear they do!
They link their arms and sashay through …
They buck-and-wing, and twist, and spin,
Each sheepish face a saucy grin …
And while these woolly matrons rumba …
I’ve clean forgot the flippin’ number!
So then I’m back to number one
And wishing I had ne’er begun!
Till, once more, frazzled and forlorn,
I’m wide awake to greet the dawn.
Categories:
confound, animals, funny, me, me,
Form:
Rhyme