Best Dithering Poems
A sanctuary waits for me
Beside a woodland stream;
Creatures chatter, beast and bird,
Dithering among the trees,
Engaged in nature’s repartee.
Fungi, moss, and flower
Gather in this shady, holy space,
Habitat of happy innocence,
Idyllic, secret forest glade.
Just let me linger in the quiet,
Kneel beneath the trees,
Listen to the lessons
Majestic nature speaks to me.
Noble trunks stretch upward,
Outward toward the sky,
Praising arms, uplifted, robed in
Queenly dress of leafy light.
Restorative peacefulness
Sweeps in sweet release,
Time’s tenacious grip relaxing,
Undisturbed, worldly discords cease.
Visitant I am within this wood,
Wistful, earthbound worshipper,
Xenophile, lover of heaven,
Yearning to go home.
Zion calls from where I bow.
May 22, 2022
Categories:
dithering, god, heaven, solitude,
Form:
Abecedarian
So many words, such boring waffle
Posturing peacocks, whispering snakes,
Actions so twisted doubtful if lawful
A bunch of connivers, dithering flakes.
In the House which they rule
They pointed and frowned
Lectures unending as if back at school,
Comments unwelcomed, arguments drowned.
Then to the Senate the matter was sent
Pelosi's grandstanding the Media in tow,
Swaying opinion her only intent
Her hands animated, her face all aglow.
But Mitch was just waiting,
Lurking, knives drawn,
Biding his time skillfully baiting,
For he had the Queen, they just the Pawn.
Here comes their bleating
Lost sheep wailing foul
They accuse us of cheating
Which makes me just howl.
Boy I like winning
It's such a huge high,
I so can't stop grinning
While watching them cry.
Now the deal's done
This farce put to bed,
I'll continue to stun
As I forge way ahead
They thought they could win
By playing the part
But if acting's a sin
I've mastered that art.
Another four years
Of me and my tribe,
No matter their tears
To me they'll subscribe.
Categories:
dithering, angst, humor, parody, political,
Form:
Quatrain
and the Lord delivered the King of Judah
into the hands of King Nebuchadnezzar.
the choice gems of the Judean royal family —
chosen to serve in the Babylonian palace.
veggies, please…no meat, no wine
from the King’s table...no defilement.
God caused the chief official to show
favor and sympathy to Daniel.
in ten days bright and cheery faces
continued their act that pleased the Lord.
to Daniel and his friends, God gave
knowledge and understanding;
to Daniel - visions and dreams of all kinds.
none was found to be better than Daniel,
Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah renamed
Belteshazzar, Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.
and this begins their veggie tales…
some thought lions might eat vegetarians...
some thought veggies could be flame-broiled…
hear the cacophony of the dithering instruments:
horn, flute, zither, lyre, harp and all
the nations crack, crumble, fall
to worship the image of gold
but…
Daniel and his friends
wait for a better day
a trumpet sound
where every knee will bow
to the King of Kings.
10/29/2019
Categories:
dithering, bible, christian, god,
Form:
Free verse
When does Chloris Arrive
The marigolds were a twitter
The tea roses were entranced
The faerie princess doing cartwheels
The lambs ears were brushing sweetly against each other
The brownies rapidly helping the ladybugs get onto their mushrooms
Chloris was to arrive in the afternoon
The sun was ready, waving hello.
The garden radishes were inspiring their carrot friends to grow
Everyone was in a tither, a dithering tizzy.
Yard had not been this excited since the dandelions popped up
The first day of Spring
The Goddess was coming!
There was exuberant joy, as the grasses
and gardens and flowers began their happiness dance.
She has not been seen in Elysian Fields for a whole year!
Categories:
dithering, spring,
Form:
Imagism
They're selling off our Airport, does anybody care?
The old Gazette's done nothing yet, no 'Save it' campaign there
The Echo there in Darlo seems quite reluctant to
Investigate the Peel Magnate and what they're pushing through
We contacted the BBC to find out what they thought
They built a reputation on injustices they've fought
But Inside Out's done less than nowt, it all seems too much hassle
Imagine the furore if it happened at Newcastle
It seems our dithering councillors sold off the legacy
Of half a million users, all done on the Q.T.
Our MPs tell us nothing, and, quieter than a mouse
Is the sinister young Minister of the Northern Poorhouse
Freedom of Information's not easy to obtain
Rumours of secret deals done, we hear now and again
But calls fall on deaf ears, to them it's all a game
Elected representatives should hang their heads in shame
It looks like asset-stripping, part of the business creed
As Peel dole out their reasons to mask their business need
And those we chose to serve us must surely think we're blind
I wonder who's being treated well, in my suspicious mind. CHING CHING.
We had a bustling airport, to us a little gem,
But giving up our heritage means simply nowt to them,
They're gonna build the factory sites and houses everywhere
They're killing off our airport and no one seems to care.
They're killing off our airport and no one seems to care.
WATCH ME SING THIS IN CONCERT. YOUTUBE
'AIRPORT' LOUIS SPENCE. Thank You
Categories:
dithering, anger, betrayal,
Form:
Epitaph
The A to P of Change Procrastination to Adventure
Answers to be found to questions unknown must arise from new
Bold novel beginnings revisions contemplation reflections and prisms
Can manage to challenge unearth previously untrodden pastures
Diminish confusing conflicts depression mood swings all our schisms
Encompass what portrays and enlightens where we once had no clue
Forego all those doubts uncertainties mistrusts dithering divisions
Grafting and crafting embracing in gratitude those many disasters
Heralds art works in person and paper defies discards rephrases indecisions
In faith change and purposive interrogation we might well eschew
Jumbled controversies intercept trapdoors pitfalls mindless perditions
Kaleidoscopic mixed and matching compositions not necessarily faster
Lie within us so obviously they require manifold repertoires of renditions
Much hard work is needed in our strife but reward looms where credit is due
No more of that past nonsense routine inculcated intrusive narrow opposition
Obfuscations of sanity health revival if we desire to become our own master
Perfused with loving kindness honesty less traditional re-calibrated new mission
02nd August 2016-09-01
written in abcb rhyme for
contest Alphabet Soup
Categories:
dithering, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme
TWICE UPON A TIME
two things clicked. A severed
evening parachuting down
on a hillock where a palace
hovered about. And coming
to terms with a cool perspective.
Kuchipudi there was. And Payal
to perform. Dispelling detachments.
And dithering in acceptance. I was
being answered in steps like 1 plus
1 is 2 or 10, binary or not.
And then Amjad Ali’s Sarod
Intervenes to disprove detachments
and to accept acceptance. Reducing
things to chewable bits. To be
politically and peaceably correct.
S.Jagathsimhan Nair
For Justin Bordner's contest.
28 jan 2015.
Categories:
dithering, culture, dance, music, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
Behind my desk of daily duties I hide obliged,
blind in perceived intent in days debilitating me,
grinding relentless against my need to find meaning…
my bleeding mind leaning against my breaching heart,
preaching intent I cannot grasp.
I gasp for a breath of substance of a sort,
distort in my own demand of dithering paths
like a slithering mole sniffing the trodden ground…
drowning in my intentless surround.
My splotched mind now fired up on a frigid stove,
an imposter, a trove dug up and claimed…
framed as thought the picture of perfect suffering is rule
I plunge…
posing in intent’s pool I seduce my own pseudo smile
and all the while spirit leaks from my soul.
This hovering abandoned hole day in and day out
I’ve filled with doubt of a truth led astray the stars
as hardened scars plow my unburied grave
like the brave face I wear disgraced
my life…
misplaced in this space of intentless surround.
Deficient occurrence pounds and pierces my felt fate,
my soul mate of self sacrifice awaits
as choice’s debris freezes my willing will to incite
I back down …
form a fight I should fight with formidable fury
as the only jury be my yearning destiny freed
as self sacrifice waits for me.
Categories:
dithering, angstself, day, self,
Form:
Alliteration
HEAVENLY SHOWERS
She was sun-scorched,
Seared and parched,
Aching for heavenly showers!
Delaying, dithering, though, at long last
He relented, bowed.
He laved her with love,
Soaking all her heat
In his own pores.
He caressed the hearth.
The sky kissed the earth.
She was now radiant,
Ravishing…
Reciprocated now she-
A waft of love from her bosom, at long last
Rose up towards him.
Soaring high and high.
The earth kissed the sky.
Will I find my sky?
Categories:
dithering, love, nature,
Form:
Free verse
‘Three ghosts Mr Scrooge? I find that so hard to believe,
That they might simply visit, to give you a reprieve!’
‘And the ghost of Jacob Marley, who’s been dead these past seven years
Transformed into a door knob, merely to add to your fears!’
‘I don’t expect you, good sir, to understand or comprehend,
Other than there is no earthly reason, why I should pretend
Or put my reputation on the line, with such a sorry tale
But I assure you the new Scrooge, no soul shall derail’.
‘They say you’ve quite the benefactor, in the case of Tiny Tim
But is that to be ongoing or merely just a whim?
And It seems rather convenient that it should be Christmas time
That you positively decide to put your morals on the line!!
‘I wish you well good sir, I only ask that you be good
And help this dithering old gentleman who never understood
Go about the important business of respecting festive cheer
That the ghosts bestowed upon me, to keep throughout the year!
(Inspired by the book ‘A Christmas Carol’ written by Charles Dickens).
A conversation with a fictional character Poetry Contest
Date - 14th February
Sponsored by - Natasha L Scragg
Categories:
dithering, imagination,
Form:
Rhyme
Rog the funambulist
A paragon was Rog, heroic in the air, without airs
One of the most magnificent funambulists at ease
Whether walking a rope or flying on a trapeze,
Though he blessed the earth with no dauntless heirs.
None could ever hope to meet his burly like again.
How admirable was the way he stood, so poised
Muscles taut on his tightrope, the crowd un-noised
Agog, as he stepped off his platform drum, laden
With two massive iron balls held above his head
With nothing but his huge iron-bar moustache
To balance him, and a saving sense of panache.
Rog was unembarrassed though unencumbered.
He bore no unnecessary clothing, as he began to stride
Going forward, forty feet above the hard ground,
Looking straight ahead, as the crowd made no sound,
Eyes turned up at his almost bare bottom, and sighed
They gazed in awe, hushed in uncritical admiration,
As Rog held a two hundred pounds weight of iron balls,
Heavy, manly balls aloft, to earn him the more applause,
Balls steady over his glabrous head, wet with sudation.
The audience gasped as the taut rope trembled,
Twanging elastic beneath his firm, slippered feet.
The still warm wax in his moustache dripped suet.
Sweat oozed through his striped jumper, downward.
But Rog didn't tremble. Rog went forth on his way,
The way of the funambulist, not dithering or wayward.
Until the wax from his moustache fell ropeward.
Rog's foot was sure; Rog's arrant slipper caused dismay.
Rog slipped, and crashed to the ground, earth thumping,
Dropping his iron balls into the crowd, with abandon,
Maiming and slaying as Rog smashes into a circus lion,
Crumbling his skull, whence his brains were pouring.
The loitering lions were saved the trouble of cracking.
But Rog should not have waxed his handsome handlebar
So soon before he stood so perilous high, airily ahover.
There will ever be another Rog, so frightfully smashing.
Categories:
dithering, adventure, allegory, dark, death,
Form:
Iambic Pentameter
Wisdom from above, enmeshed in Love, comes complete
How then make more wisdom flow ... I didn't know
But then the best teacher discovered this dithering fool, me -
O how this Teacher renews my mind, unwinds the dark and dank in me
From my belly a refreshing flow murmurs, then mumbles and rumbles
And I see a vessel being filled. Soon full, how to harness the flow?
As with a vessel, so with a soul, Spirit of Wisdom says
Take from this Spirit daily - almost manna, remember Hannah
And Sarah and Abraham and Ruth and Rahab, and Rustic Rabbi
Living waters of grace, wave after wave, grace upon grace
The surplus that overflows your vessel, doesn't flow over and away
There's a thirsty traveler passing every day
Someone, too, rejected by her kind, comes solitary to the well
Meets the Designer indeed! Who will thirst anymore, rich or poor
When the rains fail, when the ogres wail, share this cup
There is no drought in the Spirit of Wisdom. Will I draw it up
Do I have a rope of right strength and length, a pail and the practice?
Or will I be ready for the surprise: where to redirect Spirit's brimming surplus?
Categories:
dithering, 12th grade, allegory, giving,
Form:
Alliteration
Dear lord,
I write this letter short,
A psalm from my heart,
To cherish what thy have passed
A gratitude for thy works.
Forgive me, my lord
For when I have faltered,
The days I spent in agony,
When thy voice wouldn't reach me.
For the torment I laid upon myself,
Hardly a moment to breathe,
For chasing away thy peace,
You bestowed upon me.
Forgive me for dithering thy grace,
For doubting thy place,
Father, your love is absolute,
For so I thank thee, on this Christmas eve.
Thank you for loving me like a child,
Yet raising me to be a woman!
You are our savior on this dawn of storm,
A keeper of our sinful souls.
Never disregarding your children,
Always there, like a bird to her nestlings
Like a father to his daughters,
Like a mother to her sons.
This winter when snow shall reign,
Painting all white and grey,
I trust, you shall keep me warm
In your burrow safe.
29/11/20
Christmas Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh
Categories:
dithering, children, christian, christmas,
Form:
Free verse
Sunny summers day,
the month of July.
A tipsy hummingbird,
was trying to fly.
It had drank honey wine,
and couldn't find its timing.
That tipsy hummingbird.
Tumbled side winding.
One tipsy little bird,
such a sight to see.
crash landed badly,
plumb in front of me.
In a dithering spin,
it shook to catch wind,
promptly rolled over,
and flopped on its chin.
It did triple flips
some bicycle kicks.
This tipsy bird,
was doin the twist.
I grabbed my bandana,
to sop up the spittle.
Laughed as I cried,
big stitches in the middle.
within two quick minutes,
the whole episode was over.
Though it took another six
before I gained composure.
On a warm summer's day,
sunny month of July.
I was lucky to see,
a Tipsy Hummingbird Fly.
H.Elless
Poet
Categories:
dithering, bird, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
A wise bird, wiser than the west
It blend beak of voice and a beacon afar
Deftly blending clouds with feathers
Spread over wicked continents
Which is shifting opinions as in tectonic plates
Continent of men, clouds of winged meanings
Drifting oceans, Dithering wings
They meet in swarms and grooves
In a season of stealth and drones
No one wants an yellow messenger
That whispers to the wind, vividly
It could tilt and slope, incline and invade
The valley of vultures and other dreaded signs
No one want an yellow messenger
That could see beyond the tropic clouds
That could foretell the origin of nemesis
That could groove vision in your timid eyes
That bridges light unto your iris canals
No one want an yellow messenger
That carves blissful voices in your yellow belles
Bile is bile, vile is vile, primate is primate and so is the Continental drift
Categories:
dithering, allegory, anger, anxiety, beautiful,
Form:
Free verse