Best Dabble Poems
MIND AND MOUNTAIN
Life
A climbing process
A gradual, grand ascent to view?
Mind can inveigle such
To go where all manner wild affecting grows
Foothills of some towering height
Mind can spirit one there
Ascent would be steep
Though earnest, determined
Path narrow
With stones of many sizes underfoot
And trees!
Such a wealth of enduring life
Resonating valley view
At intervals
See a meadow
Brook and wild life passing through
At one of these lush spreads
I would stop
Dabble toes in the crystal stream
Then push on
Seeking seeking
A view of the top
And the summit
Hazy through the mist
Well above timberline
Many stones now
Huge boulders
Make faulting my climb
The backward glance, though, faultless, clear
But rare the breath
Weakening the will
At last the top
Ah, the pain!
With blue heaven still afar
Dave Austin
Middle child of seven siblings and has had a troubled childhood
It has made me a stronger person, just not easily understood
Had a baby at seventeen and had to grow up in a flash
Now tends to over think, tries not to do anything rash.
I have dark long blond hair, hazel eyes and an infectious smile
Patient, laid back, but still gets frustrated every once in a while
Likes long hot showers and is wise with money
Drinker of herbal teas and hot lemon with ginger and honey
Friendly, outgoing and loves to laugh
Driven, ambitious does nothing by half
Enjoys to read, dance and play scrabble
Inspired by poetry, in writing it I dabble.
Is a PSW in long term nursing care
Empathy for the elderly I can't but share
Loves truly and deeply, is a hopeless romantic
Directionally challenged without a GPS I become frantic.
Mother of three sons, who enriched by life with so much joy
Recently blessed with a grand daughter, who I cherish, love and enjoy
Kindhearted, non judgmental and a very loyal friend
I'm always there when needed, on me you can depend.
Never smoked, did drugs and rarely ever has an alcoholic drink
Likes crosswords and sudoku, games that make me think
Loves sea food, sauteed onions and homemade soup
Energized by biking, long hikes and is a leader in a scouting group.
Moved by Nickleback's song, 'If Today Was Your Last Day'
For we should live life to the fullest, let nothing stand in our way
My favorite movie is 'Ever After' starring my favorite actress Drew Barrymore
Hoping like the movie that my prince charming will soon walk through my door.
****Sidney ~ LeeAnn's " All About ___ " poetry contest ****
Ah, the fortitude of a circle
the circular wisdom
of spring to summer fall to winter
the spinning wheel’s twist of threads -
at once both self-reliant and reliant
my soul to embryo seed to seedling
the mettle it takes for the genesis;
for my poppy pod to wake and break
a tiny speck of matter a fleck of duality unleashed
I surrender my dormancy to the earth -
roots reach deep like pale squiggly fingers
..for my kernel was laid to rest to bustle to life..
while my headstrong head pushes up through the soil
I come to be.. like a new idea taking shape
a physical being grounded
while seeking the realm of the Sun
the source of spirit as essential
as the dark womb from which I emerge
with a heart budding with the universe from nothing
I sprout as a sprig from a rounded grain
conceived in a gold-dusted flurry of furry buzz..
a bumblebee's dalliance with the center of a whorl
a mote of pollen so mite-like -- but
m i g h t y
in purpose potential and power
woven together in the art of creation
wind-driven autumn rains and sips of melted snow
..mother’s milk during the passage of time..
sweetly feeds the gentle needs for my tender birth
daystar’s dabble-dance with shadows
charm the chill from the cradle of the garden floor -
warm ginger dapples flit to find me between
canopy gaps in swish and sway..
mini-spots mirroring the disk of the Sun reminds me;
the image of what I’ll become
when my solar heart shines in a petal-chalice of flame..
rapture stirs the layers of humus
penetrating my essence with a ripening
stoking my fortitude to fulfill my destiny
to break free of that which holds me down
and reach ever higher inspired by a promise;
the golden circle of solace.. the bull's-eye in the sky
whose glow does kiss and grow my soul -
my inner space of bright sure to blaze
in a blossom cup’s confinement
my soul to embryo seed to seedling
sown to assure my flowering
my earthy ascension fulfills Nature’s cycle of nativity;
above the loam I rise to unfurl
and lift my airy leaves’ uncurl up high
in praise of the light
as the end of a gray season curves
into the festive yellow equinox of resurgence
He's staring off into oblivion;
dead-lights, who of their own free will choose to illuminate
the gray matter microwave that is TV:
too vain, too vulgar. Thought Vanquisher,
brought to you by your friendly-facade-keepers:
the politicians pussyfooting on a pedestal
built of an uninformed (yet united) public -
whose belief in "connection" is in reference
to a wall socket. Not love. Not kindness.
Who unwittingly become hamsters on a wheel,
convinced of stars held in our pockets; while promises of prosperity
dangle on a string. Like Maya's caged bird we sing
- but not of freedom - to sing of that would be akin
to declaring the sun has risen in the east. Freedom is a given,
at least that's the belief that's bandied about.
There's a boldface lie in that belief . . staring us in the face.
Are we too ignorant to see or too coddled to care?
Organic antenna, playing a fuzzy station;
our loved one's voice like a pesky fly -
six-legged silhouette on precious phones.
Halfhearted hmms-and-yeahs exuding from lazy lips. A lone
wolf, misunderstood youth - the euphemisms of today,
tomorrow's regrets. The diarrhea of words floating
in cyberspace; ricocheting off planets, but never touching earth.
The constipation of passion - nonchalant bloodbath of values -
no one strong enough to carry the hearse. We'll have to work
together - in unity redirected - to carry the load of our ancestor's past.
We descendants who reap the aftermath; let's carry on and forgo the calm.
Complacency is no destiny to pursue; crack the bottle against the bow,
that ship has sailed. Let us dabble in truth, instead of sugarcoat lies;
deception maybe be sweet, but give it time, it'll go straight to your thighs.
Embrace controversy with a bear hug, and give tyranny a timeout.
And should our words sharpen swords instead of mold minds,
may the massacre be only metaphorical - and the white flag of truce
be mistaken for a canvas - painted with the blood of your passion.
Written: October 23, 2023
__________________________________________
In an expanse full of vibrant marvels, I roam.
A restless poet soul, aiming for a spot to call home.
Amid storms and destiny's unremitting draw.
I sustain to propel upward, my spirit strong flaw.
Stand shoulder close by with the towering trees.
I still sway, in sequence states of sublime sleaze.
Having both a zesty sanity and a nexus soul.
I am a lover of tales and contemporary tole.
At a wooden desk, wrapped with trepidation.
I reveal the enigmas unveiled in my orientation.
Salvaged from time, akin to riches of the past.
I dabble with words, trying to craft a story to last.
In frostbitten palms, emotions nestling deep,
I decry solace in the icy promises they keep.
Quenched by the whispers of wind and icy breath,
I let my thoughts wander, defying death.
Inside my mind, a world unfolds,
Where stories are told and destinies are bold.
With each word written, a new chapter unfurls
As the wanderer's tale takes flight and twirls.
Through wooden limbs and ancient lore,
I paint a canvas of emotions galore.
From the storms of passion to the calm of peace,
Every word I write, every line I release,
Carries the essence of my wandering soul,
A tapestry of longing, of life's intricate toll.
For in the words I weave, my spirit finds release,
And the wanderer's tale finds its eternal peace.
It amazes me how much man has evolved
Yet, How little he has learned
All around the globe
Millions die of disease and starvation
While the ever so intelligent creature known as man
Spends millions upon millions of dollars every single day
Killing each other
Instead of finding cures for the ill or feeding starving children
Oh sure, we dabble in those efforts
But we are committed to killing each other
Governments all around the globe
Spend most of their money
On their armies
Either to defend or attack
Their enemies
Supposedly, the most intelligent creature on earth
The intellectual creature known as man
If I may go so far
Mans commitment to war and killing
Goes far beyond any one mans term in office
It goes far beyond any one mans lifetime
It goes far beyond any century or any one era
From beginning to end, top to bottom
East to west, north to south
Red, yellow, brown, black or white
Our commitment to killing each other
Is undeniable
How can a species that is smart enough to split atoms
Creating weapons that will kill millions
Still be stupid enough to do it?
And now I see on the science channel
That man has now devised the Platonic beam
A beam of light that just disintegrates the target in an instant
At what price you ask?
Well I don’t know but I reckon if we diverted that money
To say solar energy projects
They could probably put a solar energy system
On every home in the world for free
Thus solving the energy crisis
Not to mention food in the icebox and medicine in the cabinet
Because of course when you create such an amazing new weapon
You need an entire new type of ship to deploy it from
Thus is born the next generation of war birds
They jettison into space
Then go into super afterburner (A jet engine minus oxygen)
Which they said would reach like 20,000 miles an hour
So you could shoot halfway around the world
Disintegrate your enemy
And be home in time for supper
I believe when speaking of politics
It’s not a National Crisis
It’s a Global Epidemic
My head slightly bent over a table of happiness.
My feet, sod with white lilacs, dance merrily
to a moon stroke music of twilight night.
My finger-tips childishly sip
the sweat of quill, like red wine of Mother Earth
that runs down the skin of my heart.
Down in the chores of primal things
I have been to the bowl aquarium, mostly at nights
where I breathed and twitched with the fish, trying
to catch the warm winks of stars. Ahh,
I know all about human arts, although I
dabble in the language of my adopted father; still
I know how to sketch
in my own words a lovely butterfly, fluttering
awhile in the night to say hello
and to kiss me,
ere on a fluffy pillow
of dreams
I close my eyes. My name is nothing special,
but honestly I am what I am… a poetry dancer, dancing
with emotions for my fictitious lover.
Author’s note: I wrote it in response to “The Invitation to Write”, by Gather
Essentials: Writing Challenge, based on Carl Sandburg’s poem “Who Am I?”
This is a verse of new thoughts,
I've invented indoor sports,
Written in a poem of riddles,
Like, "What is Time for Tiddles?"
Why, it's wine with Mahjong,
Those tiles don't tarry long,
Then, it's "Drinks for Scrabble,"
With bevvies, we'll all dabble,
Or, "Come and try my beers,"
Many varieties over here,
New indoor sports, my dears!
I get to share my thoughts
I get to share my fear and pain
At time encouraging
At times questioning
Sometimes I wonder where my thoughts
Come from
Maybe from my heart
From deep within my soul
My inspiration
Sometimes a question
Sometimes an event
I dabble in all of them
Fearful at times of the judgment
‘Cause they come from my heart
I write with my emotions
In the end I expose myself
Through that I grow
I get to share it with the world
Years have taught me
Not to be afraid
To put it out there
I can sometimes
Be a voice to the voiceless
I can sometimes encourage
Even when I feel discourage
In that I grow
In that I learn
All because I get to put pen to paper
That is my voice
That is their voice
©134504122014
When velvet night is soaked in dew
along bright rims of starlit thread,
prayers chime a tune in revue
away from hours of black and dread.
Along bright rims of starlit thread,
the fragrant winds blow chamomile,
away from hours of black and dread
to greet dawn’s flute with lambent feel.
The fragrant winds blow chamomile,
leaves draping the knolls in full hum,
to greet morn’s flute with lambent feel
as heart ripples while dusk succumbs.
Leaves draping the knolls in full hum
prayers chime a tune in revue,
as heart ripples while dusk succumbs
when velvet night is soaked in dew.
Gautami Phookan's Dabble in Poetry Forms
3/17/2014
You see I've been misunderstood majority of my life
Its as though if living were war
then im the knife
Its not my fault society embraces suicide
Label me an aspiring mathematician
Cuz I have nothing to hide
but a simple substance I provide
for an affordable price
my life is nicked and dimed into a dynasty of ghetto capital
my product derived of natural organic matter
strategically cut and cooked for a simple way to provide
that get away you're after boo
Damage is collateral
See while you chase starts
I chase the dollars that make them
See I defy God and for a few
I can make you invincible
destroying your principles
Cuz ile have you feining for that next high
that next mucus mixture
with the snort of that booger sugar
Excess caked up til inhaled to the brain
that mental bugaloo
Cut into rocks of instacourage
for you weak pawns on a chessboard
checkmated before you had the chance
to advance to enemy territory
You've destroyed yourself
As I enjoy my wealth
Now whos the loser
When you look yourself in the mirror
and realized you've ascertained a habit you cant break
developed a hunger for a superficial utopia you cant make
You are
So as a businessman my product and I are one
but never mingle
So while you dibble and dabble with the snow
I create blizzards
Are you prepared for the cold cold life ahead of you
If im caught is federal
But you're worth the effort
Im just simply the man that makes the offer
And its crazy cuz when the streets were hot
and my product was mixed with soda pop
it was a shoulder shrug
Now I gotta hide my product
discreet with my customers
or metal bracelets will give my wrist
a colder hug
Load the slug
and aim it at your cranium
this is a ride youll die for
Literally speaking
No pun intended
It was more of a visual sentence
i would love to have the chance to ask the dog star are you Sirius?
John Tirious won't tell people his daughter's name it's Miss Tirious
if i were fuzzy wuzzy and lost all my hair i'd be furrious
when songwriters erase are they "decomposing" or "delyrious"?
[i should know better than to dabble in such puns, after all i am a groan man]
She sang a wonderful enchanting melody
notes that echoed through the motionless trees
while in a stationary pause for just a moment scant,
she resumed her song as if it were a prayerful chant;
she glanced up and down, left and right, brown eyes dancing
then a skip, a hop, a bounce, then slow walking,
crunching dried leaves beneath her tiny feet
off to the sides along the cool grassy edge out of the heat;
she gleaned the view of multitudes of flowers renewed
familiar spring budding, now in full bloom,
probing roses, peonies, irises in wafting perfume,
bobbing she rushed to dabble her feet on waterfall stones,
the garden seemed to speak her name
calling out to her, drawing her interest and attention
that soon waned in more pensive somber thoughts,
scanning fluffed puffed clouds up high and deep blue azure sky;
enough she thought - if only I could fly
then in recognition of her place with God's grace
she stretched her feathered wings and softly fluttered
taking swift flight up and away
she could not stay
but would return again
the little wren remembered well
the garden of her birth.
I know what is to become of this frame,
But I don't know how it will get there.
Heart attack? Cancer? Hit by a train?
The causes are endless and oft unfair.
The "how" of my demise I can't arrange
Nor can other mortals the same as me.
I wish, however (don't think it strange)
To make to my Maker an urgent plea.
`Tis this: Don't let me lose my mind.
Visit me with every ill known to be.
Rack me with whatever doctors find.
But my mind, dear God, leave it free.
I know it's brash to make this request.
Who am I to dabble with things divine?
Perhaps then it's best to simply suggest
Please, Lord, let me keep my mind.
I know I am privileged
when I see water in your eyes
One smell, one scene, one sound
- a flashback,
which only you can see
Only you can wear, the scar
that goes where you go,
it can never be erased,
it is eternally buried beneath you
but never completely hidden away
A part of your life, a moment
a memory - a journey
That you have traversed and inked,
mentally, physically and emotionally
We speak of our scars -
when we can, we wear them with pride
They are important in the making of who we are
As your eyes dabble or swim in the water
it is your soul expressing something important,
an impression that is forever yours
I am privileged - my soul wants to reach for yours,
to ease your torment, this emotional pain
My eyes want to swim with yours,
not because I know what you are feeling or remembering,
but because I am there for you, I feel sadness
In all of your incredible strength, I know
that in this moment no strength can stop
what needs to be released from within -
that's how these moments are important - impressionable.