Best Dilly Dallying Poems
Is our love a dance macabre?
A dilly dallying with death?
Or a mystic encounter of unabated love?
Will it last? Will it end?
So many questions left unanswered,
So many uncertainties attested,
All cumulative in a death wish
As emotions run devilishly amok.
My soul screams with this unpredictability,
Its echoes rampage through my veins,
As bubbling blood courses through
Twisted arteries, through havoc and chaos.
Is it the folly of chained love?
The unearthly silence of togetherness?
My lips pronounce your name but no one answers.
I realize my questions will never be answered.
Our togetherness is but a charade,
Shadows dancing in a moonless night.
Your allure is just too much to bear,
I dare keep it no more
So let our ways head into different tracks.
Henceforth I'll dance alone.
A dance macabre.
Ok let's go up to the fire tower, talk with Ranger Ricky, Heh, heh,. What's so funny Harry. When I was a kid we use to watch the Ranger Ricky Show. He would run Popeye the Sailor cartoons and every week He would say "An a very Hap-py Birthday to the viewers."An a very Hap-py Birthday to Harry, he is 8 years old today.He helps his Mom around the house by doing the dishes and sweeping the floors. Morning Rick, morning Harry, I've been expecting you. I have some bad news, the avalanch started at the top of Demons Bluff. Your chances of finding those kids are slim and even slimmer finding them alive. There is some good news, 7 members of Killington Rescue have joined the search.That's great, the four of us have 2 advantages, we only have to climb 50 feet to the top of the mountain. Demons Bluff is on the otherside, down hill with very little snow
for 3 quarters of a mile. What's the secound reason asked Billy. Harry cooks as well
as he knows this mountain, he is an Ace Rick, stop! Alright, I have 5 thermo-laser poles, should we bring the 5th one. Yep, I'll carry it.
To be Cont.
Author's note: This all took place in less than a 5 minute span if you think we were Dilly-dallying
In the blink of an eye and remorse far away
Your wavering heart blistered away my loving years
Your verbal pleasantries seem to mock
Your artful facade with a serpentine sting
In the beatific moments your need was me
We spent lucid loving hours spent at comfortable ease
New beginnings became easy with me to shield
You climbed my inherited ladders in splendid guise
I spruced the hearth and kept it warm with crystalline cheer
Your eyes, I fear, I couldn't fathom as I tucked our babes to bed
Now you fumble with your deceitful heart to temper me
When unchartered hours were gambled away with a seductive lass
Trust exploded in my rose quartz heart
When I saw you two cooing by mere accident
Your pitched frequency of dilly dallying
No more resonates with my simplicity
Our winsome fairy tale has ended
And your wilful satiric tale has begun
The charisma of ethereal love is poised on
Drooling actions and not on banal promises
March 31, 2016
Cliche 4- Actions Speak Louder Than Words
Sponsor: Silent One
Act 1: Scene 1: (As the curtain opens, we see the bulky frame of Farmer George. He paces
the worn floor of his large open kitchen. He has just come in from harvesting his crops.
Seated at the table is his wife, Florence (Flo), a more educated person, demure, and usually
calm. Today she sits, as if in peril, large green eyes darting nervously back and forth as they
follow his every move. Across from her on the table is an uncut melon; next to it, a large
knife. Both husband and wife appear agitated, and an argument is about to ensue as George
leans suddenly forward, glaring at his wife’s startled face, placing both his large rough hands
heavily down on the table squarely in front of Flo. . . )
Flo: Mercy, George, what’s gotten into you? You’re nearly giving me a heart attack!
George: Don’t tempt me, woman. I want an explanation from you and I want it RIGHT
NOW! No more ‘a this dilly dallying around. What in tarnation was ya doin’ out there?
Flo: Why, I’ve been in here cooking, can’t you see?
George: Cooking? Cooking? I’d say you been cooking up something all right and it ain’t
been here in this kitchen!
Flo: Why, whatever do you mean, George?
George: I seen you out there by the barn, Flo. Don’t you deny it.
Flo: I am being perfectly candid with you. I’ve been right here cooking you this supper since
4 o’clock! Why on earth would I be out behind the barn and at this hour?
George: That’s what I wanna know! I seen you from the field, Florence. Not more than
fifteen minutes ago! I might’a lost some hearing, but I sure ain’t lost my sight yet! You was
runnin’ toward the house like yer skirt was on fire. So whaddaya not telling me?
(Florences’ gaze settles on the one kitchen window, and suddenly her eyes get very large. At
this precise moment, a loud crash is heard from outside. Bruce picks up the knife from the
table and dashes off, bellowing, exiting stage left.)
For Rambling Roses' Act 1, Scene 1 Contest
I've got this involuntary fascination with procrastination
The coop I file claim to for keeping my record an all time high for being poster child of mildly lackadaisical along with low key insane...
Playing the blame game with myself, now isn't that fun?
Now- ripping the mask off of the budding beast in my head. Its time to pop it like a vitamin, be still, contemplate and liberate the pain of existing as an idling ghost half way utilizing my brain.
Although deftly quick witted like one of those push-to-starts...
If i woke up on time I wouldn't have missed that bus, if I'd done that project I would've passed that class.
Procrastination keeps me from the things that I want and the things that I have. Buried under its dark engrossing waves, anticipating the answers in a sea with all the trained fishes of the population.
Procrastination wants to drown me, Make me his prized possession. But when I shake off the stagnant chips from my shoulders -
I emerge out of my retreat, and realize that I am 20 feet tall. Taller that the world that I'd thought keep me unexpressed...
Apt to new beginnings never REALLY knowing how to finish thing..
thanks to my guaranteed usual dilly dallying mindset that would always sink in JUST when I thought I'd morphed into the zealous brilliant spirit within me.
Procrastination- my arch enemy that I used to keep so near, as if it were my best friend. Finally Doggy paddling out of this stale pool. I am free productivity grabs my hand evolving what once was into what is; me.
I often wonder
as I wander through wonder
receptive to the signs
projected from minds mines
exploding in invincible
imagination invisible
like cloak and dagger
I search for the truth
whether it be within me
portrayed without my boundaries
leaping bounds
offering sounds
collected in the skies daisy dairies
harvested in the sea
fermented in vermouth
causing the tides to stagger
I lay naked in the clouds
relaxing in the dilly dallying sun
basking in the knowledge of the universe
soaking in the wisdom
of the watery breeze
fluently speaking
telepathiconversations
uttering raindrop runes
reading the realms
for telling of forecasts
faceted in fascination
I ask a simple question
where do I begin to find
where I began
sifting through the soil of my soul
scraping the soil off my soles
at the threshold of the Sun
I jump in feet first
and become purified in the pools
of swirling
spiraling
solace
chapter 1 in salvation
rewriting my past lives contribution
stepping into eternities elevation
becoming submersed in loves great basin
the reality of what everyone considers an illusion
illuminated on the paths of another dimension
reincarnated in my own waves of retribution
smiling as I'm cut by the shards of every solution
leaving it up to me to draw up the conclusion
and speak it to the masses in mass confusion
I am NOT just a speaker
I am NOT just a teacher
I am NOT just a leader
I am a seeker
lighting the way
for those who wish to catch up
EAGLES ENCOUNTER
Mi was doing my nite rounds..
then was a student at a local varsity
when i had an encounter with them eagles
they offer me peace...salaams..
but they were really trying
to appear nonthreatening
one of them asked mi a weird question
...how did you do it..
i perceived they were alluding
to the gift of sight..
dilly dallying around but they are..
all ears..i mention the fall..
suddenly there by my side scaring mi
or is it intimidating..
...what do you know of it...
only what you tell me..i replied
impatient eagles.. hard stances taken..
run to the USA even there floods
overtake thee..
and operative cleantone caps you..
The eagles aren't that bad
and they blend well with mortals..
This is Africa and immortals
walkin around aiint no big deal
we roll our eyes.. turn a blind eye..
We aint like them Americans
who have an obsession for the..
weird.. weird stuff of life..
miracles so rare in their land
they have to invent superheros
down here weird is the norm
and every one is given rite of passage
for this is tanateru.. this is gods acre..
and immortals have a rite of way
its the mortals who live down here..
you should watch out for...
the eagles land and leave
at times they snatch
the chicks from the hen..
and hubby rooster..
they don't bother us much
even kids don't fear them..
for they like to fly high..
and if i was an angel
wouldn't i protect them day and nite...
and if i were a bomb... i would never
explode..for the eagles landed-
and none was too wise...
Lewis k Nyaga,
KIRINYAGA FREE STATE..
You take your dog out for a walk,
you see your neighbor, stop and talk-
Your puppy goes doo-doo on the lawn,
and you just stand there and yawn.
It’s like..”PICK THAT UP!” that’s so rude!
Maybe your dog ate too much food?
When your puppy makes a mess clean it up,
he doesn’t know any better, he’s just a pup.
I smell a scent of something crude,
and it may cause a friendly feud-
Why do you have body odor that reeks?
Wear some deodorant, your sweat leaks!
Is it in the cultural food that you eat?
Maybe you should stick to wheat?
Hmmm…I wonder if you even know,
that when you’re near, I wish to go.
You’re in the fast lane, get on over please!
This annyoing driver is too at ease.
I’m in a darn rush, can’t you see?
Get out of the fast lane, I’ve somewhere to be!
Dilly dallying, slow as a snail,
so I roll down the window and start to wail-
I can’t stand these people who drive too slow,
then your car breaks down and needs a tow.
These annoying things just seem so wrong,
I’d write twenty more, but this poem's too long-
Why can’t everyone be more like me?
Poopy mess, body odor and slow driving are pesky!
May 19, 2017
The continued story of this poet
Haters r going to be mad that I even wrote it
Here is where I give u "The Business"
Like a lightning bolt striking with a quickness
Trust me, u haven't heard the best of it
A debt to collect and I'm gonna settle it
Mouths sown shut like a gangsters lips
Leave everybody sleeping with the fishes
The lips tell no lies just like a politician
This is the Sh*t Talkers Edition
I don't do well staying inside the box
I'm better at picking locks
But ur lady just lets me in when I knock
Words like cells in my blood
Flowing through these veins like the levee during a flood
No filter from the brain to my paper
Just a figment of imaginary literature, kinda like vapor
In the Poetic Justice League and I'm the Caped Crusader
By the end I'll be your Daddy like Darth Vader
Enough of the dilly dallying and chitter chatter
Down to Brass tax, nitty gritty, the heart of the matter
All in ur face, screaming, "U can't see me!"
Letting words "Float like a butterfly & sting like a bee"
Leaving all the drama behind me
From this point forward
Pulling all the hit contracts I ordered
"Keep Stepping" and move forward
Wouldn't still be here if it wasn't for the Lord
Got an ppointment with fate,
Best not be late
Happiness & havoc is what I hope to create
If u haven't notice I am a Problem
U better have listened to everything I told them
A fresh canvas has endless possibilities
Maybe a mural of myself among other Poetic Deities
Or a sketch of the lies that I made those people believe
Truth is gray and things aren't what they seem to be
Unaffordable, yet valiant speeding,
tailgating, and zooming Pep Boys, I cannot dodge.
Yours truly grief stricken
(sob... sob... sob)...
wheely hard to bear
this anticipatory anxiety
riddled joker impossible
mission thwarting despair
death knell tolled (told),
woebegone news, I did fear
hears stunned me into silence,
the unwelcome prognosis,
I needed to hear
no joke, but good humor
totally wrecked vehicle forces
yours truly to become...,
no not a lion tamer
but, yes a panhandling junketeer
begging, copping, dilly dallying... ha
to accept unpleasant
unexpected dire straits
gravely digging within lithosphere
bidding... fare thee well
treasured automobile faithful and near
synonymous with ideal paramour, yet now
must confront stark reality,
lack ample disposable income available
no financial resources to persevere,
and worse case scenario me
and the missus will need to don
faux Santa Claus outfit,
and roundup available reindeer
for ourselves (yea... yea... yea...,
I realize how spare
and tired, pessimistic,
forlorn success such short notice
unless if... nah no fat or slim chance...
apocalypse ushers abominable thermonuclear
war, (I doubt Trump would
pull publicity stunt
to be re elected - ha) whereby
Beatle browed, foo fighting
foreigners, survivors impressed, feted,
compensated... for service
unless they willingly volunteer.
Combination future pluperfect
birthday presents and Noel hi
Christmas gifts well nigh,
noah ark cake "FAKE" attempt,
to hoodwink, engine ear,
trunk hate, et cetera
drum, harp, trumpet... belie
including objective to shanghai,
nor fall out of good amazing graces
toward (me) garden variety generic guy
providing steadfast generous
figurative air supply to fortify,
revving me shaky talent,
ye may oft times decry
as unintelligible gobbledygook
brainstorming ideas to try
single handedly ambidextrously
poetically kindle indeed codify
to elucidate how transportation
car reared and gone awry
moderate expenses as original parts wear out,
(i.e. battery, fender, brakes,
hood latch, shock absorber, tires...
albeit almost all simultaneously), hence I sigh
aware expounding circumstance that doth defy
immediate resolution incumbent to pacify
troubleshoot immediate impasse
squarely render quintessence
problem solving the overriding
challenge, I vilify.
(not that ye wondered,
but simply tubby like totally tubularly clear
The Epic of Gilgamesh will not be extolled here).
Though thoroughly well mapped, parsed,
scrutinized vibrant wonders zoom
plethora, sans newly discovered life forms
cradled with fecund Gaia's womb
abound within unlikely places
such as mossy bearded faces
nestling, pronouncing,
and regaling pharaohs sarcophagus tomb
oceanographers also find organic entities
adorning, kickstarting,
and thriving within extremely
remote temperature zones,
where just enough telly tubby wiggle room
prevails for microscopic
Verizon patronizing Grand Poobah
barking orders unicellular viziers heed,
while latter bedecked
with itty bitty plume
invisible to the naked eye, yet within
subatomic world wide web
bit players air heir loom
appearing larger
then cereal grain re: life,
an arrogant, bumptious, and conceited Don
doth trump his young
unbridled, reprobate, and ornery baron as groom
material to check mate
distracted checkered populace,
where raucous, rebellious, riotous
majority lumpenproletariat fuss and fume
cuz gaudy Mar-a-Lago hiss poe tate
tow headed (faux towering
Taj Mahal doppelganger),
via slow vac didst suck socialist rowdy
bot tinny Rajah,
whose apprenticeship to exhume
(pro bone know) spy bots
miserably condemned from the get go
as president erupted rabidly trying to doom
rousing, scenting, and trawling
non-convincing "witch hunt,"
yet incontrovertible evidence carelessly
swept hurriedly under the rug
(by Russ Shins) via broom,
thus a sudden spike
visa vis master card er...
comeuppance will bring ringleader down
with strep away poison
nano trumps all abloom.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Now in summer re:
this Dom minion doth attest
intention to write
a boot equinox got out best
head, although pleasurable
to loose imagination off chest
so thank you for
letting me be a cerebral guest
and now...no dilly dallying,
cuz another writing assign
requires responding
to Matthew Scott Harris's behest!
I'd let my lab outside to do his numbers
him acting like a sleuth cool as a cucumber
with me on a schedule I'd be checking the time
him dilly dallying like it was no crime,
Sniffing every single bush, tree and blade of grass
me trying to be patient and not too crass
finally saying "would ya hurry it up" while he sniffs the clover
which he thinks is his other name besides the real one Rover.
8-22-17
I KNOW YOU, you're me because I am you
I know in the dark when you think No one is watching, in your head you question !!
In feeble struggles your weak mind tries to remember, too bad its an unfit muscle!! You should have exercised it, you should have thought more!!
I know you silently ask yourself:
"Where am I,
Who am I" No, you ask yourself
"Who am I really"
"Who can I ask? You silently ponder!!
Well you can't ask me and you can't ask us!!
Somewhere in time you lost yourself and you pretended to be a sheep and flocked along with the herd but now you're truly lost,
You lost your individuality and now you don't know what you lost because self to you doesn't exist. you walk, look, act and talk like a flock, we can't tell you apart
So they too must be lost, they cannot guide you! so now you wonder who is herding, who is grouping you? Who is numbering you?
Could I be him? Maybe you're different, Do you think we're alike?
Am I different or am I insane? If I'm normal then you're not
Somehow you long forgot where you misplaced your driving purpose, now the confused media is your driving deities.
Who where you before this world made you a number?
Before it programmed you all flock, fleet, herd and all prey to this disease of the mind, this insanity cloaked in normalcy
Does time mean anything to you, or are you too busy to listen?
what do you live for?
For in shadow in the stead of you truly living you choose to simply exist.
Do you know where you're herded or you like just being so much that you flow with tide. You shall rue this precious time you wasted dilly-dallying
I know tomorrow you will not have lived nearly enough, you'll wake up depressed and think on giving up and wish for an end and when the end comes, I know you'll wish you had lived for what truly matters.
We're not sheep, we need not be herded by men. Open your eyes see and believe , listen intently and truly hear to understand. Swallow this sour pill it is truth, its both bitter and sweeter than lies. Follow your heart ask for insight, use your mind, its a useful muscle, deeply breathe in today and make a vow to yourself to truly live.
Poetry Soup, I now confess,
Passing would bring me misery
That thought I surely should repress!
O God, be merciful to me.
Lost place to care, lost place to grow.
Lost friends, which share their poetry.
Around in circles I would go.
O God, be merciful to me.
Without the soup, my heart would cry.
Dilly-dallying, fixed ably
Would cause my life to go awry.
O God, be merciful to me.
My troubled mind would soon regress.
In sadness I would walk grimly.
My thoughts might fall to senselessness.
O God, be merciful to me.
My anguished soul would flood with tears.
My happy thoughts would loose their glee.
Blessed by the soup these many years.
My God, has been merciful to me.
© February 20, 2012
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Sister,
Hurry. Hurry.
Stop dilly-dallying,
The ice-cream truck is coming round.
If we don't hurry up it'll have a crowd.
Another scorching humid summer day.
How I'd fancy this afternoon
A dish of ice-cream topped
With strawberries,
Sister
7/12/2022
A rictameter is a nine line poetry form with a 2 4 6 8 10 8 6 4 2 syllable count and where the first and the last lines keep repeating,