Best Dazed Poems
Stress is an
Understatement when it comes to the
Mine field called school.
Millions and millions of children and teachers
Expressly waiting for the last
Ringing of the school bell
For the year.
Understanding the price of the diploma; but, wanting
Nothing more than that "hot break".
Woke up this morning groggy and dazed
Must have slept well, my eyes are all glazed
Walked into a wall
Then peed in the hall
Bled freely from my face while attempting to shave
© Jack Ellison 2015
Poetic musings in the post holi-daze
Living downstairs from the centipede
one dreads the hours of waiting
for the “other” shoe to drop.
the bottom half of the moon smiled
grinning through the haze of dawn
soft glow casting soft shadows
across the glistening hoarfrost
sitting outside the homes
they once filled with joy
green brittle branches crack
under the weight of failed promise
wild spinning whirr of life’s impatience
shatters the silence of snow’s quilt
tosses the ice chips of “reality”
atop the warmth of hidden dreams.
“of what use are gloves
to fingers that comprehend
only mittens”.
In response to the question:
“How many ways up the mountain?”
Religions exert the inane belief
there is only one way up the mountain.
Opportunity no longer knocks.
It can, however, be downloaded.
John G. Lawless
Whether working wallabies would weave waved warm wafers or whether wallpaper would wear walls is two times a question really. It is rational to assume that an ass jacket would dart over a yak and a yam would appear. At intervals. Rotating. But rotating is not a salivating salubrious salutation singing strong songs. Nor is it a giant radio beam. Dancing. But the power of a hoover in many a house can simply be powered by five hundred and forty two heron wings. Hovering Hoovers having heaped hinged hunts. But a hunt disturbs a grunt so why line up paws and hooves in rows. Cinematic of scale and climatic of chaos. Said the four centimetre jar in a herd pile. Herd piles are not mooing nor are they moving either. Pan to the alloy and a fistful of iron ore can symbolise a very pretty pavement in a green patterned dress. But standing next to a chess set of colourful butter beans is pleasant for the partridges whose lacrosse abilities are really quite astonishing in a supernova diesel twist. Spinning. It is nit fashionable to quiz a funfair over which ride is the best for they all are egocentric and often argue with lashings of colours, noise, and fur ball darts. Pressure no pea to preform a painted piano concerto for concertos can control and control is akin to a line of skating cows on an outdoor rink. Always count the pink buttons carefully and slowly. Evaporated milk is often found playing near to margarine containers. Z cinematography Z at fifty nine little splooshes splashing to thirteen fish hooks waving at the fins. Z xxxxx zzzz whirrrrr the wings and eeeeee to mice piles. Z
a drop of my blood fills my tears,
tears that roll down my cheek, past
the frozen expression glued to my face,
standing weak kneed before you, feeling abused,
dazed by the velocity, the ferocity of your
tongue lashing, steals the breath of my
existence so Dad why are you surprised
a drop of my blood fills my tears
20~10~2014
Maurice Yvonne
I'm dazed and confused
I really am in control
Am I who I am
No answer was my reply
Schizophrenia deepens
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/life-14.php
I'm not too inspired
by life, I admit
the bigger success is
the wider a target
I become, I have found
so I'll just take my life
easy come, little sound
bigger ripples yet
in the water I break
for I am a wise elder
and the slyest of snake
slithering my way
towards my prey, of no chance
for the serpent strikes quickers
than the flick of your glance
then its simply gone
nowhere to be seen
for I am a black snake
and you are a green
the shade of pure envy
smiles so fake
yet they try to be friendly
No, life is a bore
hear me snore, such a chore
for I have conquered
all over, before
now I just sit here
and daydream for hours
watching a box
full of victims, and cowards
green, as their money
for they're hungry, and ruthless
and in the real world,
their pretending is useless
as the paper that makes us all slaves
losing and fuming, yelling in our caves
its all like, how far, have we really evolved
crowding for drinking, and parking in malls
not even barely above chimpanzee
no, I must tell you,
life is inspired, by me
Love has me now
all trussed up helpless
alone scared to the soul
wandering in circles
within my mind
I see the flash
I wait for thunder
a single raindrop falls
drowning me
love has me now
I smile
then wait
for another storm
Hit in the face with love so strong,
even though so many said it was wrong,
it put me into a daze
that made everything else seem like a haze
but is this love so true,
Is this the love spoken by so many of you?
Is this true or is it a lie?
I try to decipher it but no matter how hard I try
I fear that this is just another time
where you cut open my wounds and sprinkle them with lime,
adding insult to injury just one more time
I'll smile and laugh and tell you I'm fine
until I break down, down to my core
and wonder where the armor I wore
to protect myself from this has disappeared
and once the dust has cleared,
I'll be anew once again
as I stand crying, in the pouring rain
Too much static in my head
Don’t know how all the problems bread
Now I don’t even have my own mind read
Having others carve my path for me
Isn’t something that I want
That’s why a lot of times I stand alone
Walking, eventually getting at what I sought
I feel like I am dodging a field of mines
On my way to the goal
Getting more difficult each time
Till all I have left is a worn out soul
I don’t want that to happen
Want the road to be smooth
I just need to get by this last groove
Then I can clear my problems up
Ease my weary head
Just want to know
If I will have peace in my life ahead
Angels.
How many they asked
Could dance on the head of a pin?
I’m thinking
Why are they dancing
Don’t they have wings?
Rocks
Could God make one
So big He couldn’t lift it?
I’m thinking
Have you seen my book bag?
Martyrs
Nuff said.
I’m thinking
No one’s showing up for the tryouts.
Fasting
Look, I’m a kid
I’m thinking
It’s a cookie
Game over.
Math
She asked
How much is one plus one
I’m thinking
You mean you don’t know?
She called my name
Asked what I was thinking
I’m thinking
PBJ, six Oreos, chocolate milk.
John G. Lawless
©3/17/2023
Latin waiter….”Et tu Brute”
Artistic restraint
“just why is it that the pumpkin MUST be orange.”
Field trips
A 2nd grader wonders: “Just who is it that the corn stalks?”
Punishment
Write “I must not talk and laugh in class” 500 times*
*I wrote “I must not talk and laugh in class 500 times” 500 times
Grammatical “measurements”
’You have less milk, fewer cookies.” (Sister Aloyisius circa 1953)
Algebraic Anomalies….
”Ya can’t add apples and oranges and get bananas” (Brother Frederick circa 1960)
Detention
“Just cuz someone wrote it don’t mean ya hafta quote it” (detention circa 1962)
Religion…
“There’s nothing original about sin”
Geographic jerrymandering
“they’ll reshape, reform, and rename it all anyway so……”
John G. Lawless
11/20/2022
dazed-
c a l l o u s
and aloof
from the stoic
aftermath of your
blazed avalanche-
your ice has
made me
n u m b-
Form N-Ninette
Sponsor, Broken Wings
April 20, 2017
Last week on Wednesday
I was thinking the same thought
I am thinking today.
Time gets dazed out of mind,
gets rotated and recycled.
Each day is a next card
in an unshuffled pack.
The repetition is comforting
a pillow for a dazed head,
a microwaved chicken dinner
you can warm up once again.
The same can always
trip you up, make you see
the probability
of yet more stones upturned.
Wednesday gets dressed,
walks out into the early shine
finds a stone to overturn
nothing to see
but last week a millipede
wriggled away
marking another day.
`
been dazed and confused
for so long it is not true
reminds me of me
For the: Sing Me A Senryu Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Maureen McGreavy
Song: Dazed and Confused – Led Zeppelin