Best Eccentric Poems
Open eyed, long tearless, foul silvered orbs
have you no pity? The aqua tide rides dry.
Blind staring scorches, accusing twin barbs
who burrow inward, a destiny to decry.
Scattered rendering, puzzled pieces aligning;
"Please mercy has a place, why can't I cry?"
Remove the cataract veneer, stop my pining
"Have you no place for maddened souls such as I?"
Nailed to the boards you see a canvassed psyche
dabbed upon a casein shroud in hues most bright.
"How many lamp lit days will you seek to find me?"
The light betrays me and I live in eternal fright.
Eternities unfold in Lovecraft Tales
upon the silvered side within my eyes; hell wails.
There's a poet named...Eileen
Who's sweet but sure can get mean
So don’t cross her path
Or you’ll taste her wrath
Just tell her, “You are...the QUEEN!”
She tries so hard all to please
You'll get her if you just tease
She is dynamite
Can set you “alight”
She might...your trigger just squeeze!!
She loves a good cuddle too
Loving, she is, through and through
She’s loyal and kind
Though out of her mind
She longs to be friends with you
She loves to write and to bake
Belly dance, jiggle and shake
She's proud of her hair
A proud MAMA BEAR
P Soup just keeps her awake
She can't keep feelings at bay
What she thinks, that's what she'll say
A storm is quite mild
to this tantrum child
Her passion can win the day
Romance is what she's about
Quotations...she likes to spout
Steeped in yesteryear
Where knights are so dear
And true love leaves none in doubt
So try to see her good side
In friends she does take great pride
She’ll give love to you
Make you feel brand new
So take her madness in stride!
For Reginna's Bio Contest
Re-edited March 19, 2014
A weird old woman loved cats
And outlandish broad-rimmed hats
Why should we think it odd
The old dame is quite mod,
Why she even dines with her bats.
written, Winter 1972
edited June 29, 2021
[first published in The Hoosier Challenger, 1972;
republished in By-Line, Summer, 1989]
Sitting by the window, watching the life go by...
I tried to lean on my dreams, but they all have left me high n' dry.
Hope is gone now, so I say farewell my dear,
But we will meet once again, someday, somewhere.
And time is fading away, and nothing is forever,
What if life is like a chance? Like "now or never"?
Walking away from the crowd, that swallows everything,
It blindfolds my life, and leaves me with nothing.
But outside don't haunt me, I don't Duck n' Run!
Hopes, fears and strengths in me, prefer the moon than the sun.
But I'm loosing myself though, my Individuality is at stake,
I've been consumed by hatred n' anger, I've got to change for Heaven's sake.
Empty days to lonely nights and lonely night to the empty day,
I know for sure, if I don't change, I am gonna die this way.
And forgiveness, your highness...I am a sinner, my life is a mess,
I'm just lost in here, but give me a sign, I can do the rest.
In between expectations and acceptations, I let the wind carry me;
Time greets me once again, as I search for Peace within Me.
(C) Obaidur Rahman. Published in the poet’s debut book of English poetry titled “The Mystic Inferno” in 2012.
eccentric she was
socially awkward
somewhat paranoid
with bizarre twitches
not mixing in
an outcast
of her own doing
a square peg
in a round hole
not fitting in
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
eccentricity
defines chihuahua hairy....
hikes everywhere now
heart disease kills our small dogs
congenital defect ~me
I learn almost 10 years ago that I have a congenital heart defect plus a tumor in the wall of my heart. I now have the third dog dying with heart problems. It is so hard watching them slowly die.
We never knew She-Fee really. She was our cousin, but
She was banished practically the first time my parents saw her.
Strange my father pronounced almost immediately.
My mother was horrified by her command of adults.
We were drawn to She-Fee for she was full of clever silliness.
She had a monarch on her cheek and a dragonfly followed her.
They are afraid of me, she told us, pointing to our aunt and uncle.
I call them 'Will Do Anything' and "Glad I Am Stupid'.
We were amazed. We had never seen Uncle Will speechless.
He laughed maniacally, because I think he was nervous.
Aunt Gladys ran off crying. Which is how assertive our cousin is.
It was our first visit with her, a two-day trip we never made again.
She was six-years-old at the time, completely in charge of them.
They were her easily manipulated minions, not her gatekeepers.
We had a lovely day or two watching her order them about.
The next time I saw her, was at their funeral.
She came out of the forest to watch us but not really.
She wore a giant rose bud teacup on her head, hiding her eyes.
Deer and a squirrel followed her. I was delighted, remembering her.
She waved without lifting the cup,
Then went back into the forest.
Obviously, she had new subjects to command.
If you don't have a garden,
You can still cultivate your eccentricities without pardon.
It is not that hard,
Even if you have no yard.
As long as you have a book,
You can achieve that eccentric look,
Without money in the bank,
Or petrol in the tank.
Eccentricities will grow inside your concrete box,
Even if you have no locks.
You can grow one on the run,
If you really want some fun.
It is best to start when you are young,
So you never have to carry a gun,
As eccentricity gives you a better way to act,
And that is a fact.
If you plan to grow old,
Without being alone in the cold,
Then your eccentricity should take centre stage,
As it only gets better with age.
Our grandson I am pleased to announce,
Is now leading us in a dance,
We think he will be eccentric by the time he is two,
And will teach his Mother to be eccentric too.
So, if you want your personality to become electric,
A little cultivating will make you eccentric,
Giving you the best chance,
In leading a life of fun and romance.
You say you want to marry me,
But how on earth could that be,
You say that I’m the one for you,
Know naught about you, have no clue,
You say we’ll travel far and wide,
With you forever by my side,
You want to take me to the moon,
You promise me that will be soon,
I wonder how you’ll do all this
How about you first give me a kiss,
And explain this complicated story
With dinner and a glass of wine dear Rory!
Of course I will says this eccentric man,
Give me a chance to speak, I am your fan,
Let’s go and book our worldwide trip,
Then go to dinner, and with a sip
Or two or three of the best French wine,
Fly way up high on my private plane, as we dine,
And furthermore, have a surprise for you,
In fact not only one, but I have two,
Kneels on one knee and offers me a ring,
A bright diamond at least 3 carats, bling,
I was floating, wondered did it show, in a daze,
This whole day was just a blur a, haze.
The 2nd, - tickets not to the moon, but Mars,
Refused this gift, preferred planet earth and cars,
And still the kiss had not yet come,
Felt bewildered, wanted to phone my mum!
Hey wonder boy Rory, how about that kiss,
Oh wow, loved that, imagine if I did that miss!
I have loved you Amy, for such a long time,
My father likes you also, we watched you climb
The corporate ladder, with those great pins
Because of these, forgiven any previous sins,
I liked your ways, your speech at any forum,
The way you managed meetings with decorum,
I even pulled out your file from H/R,
See you speak French, Spanish, heritage USSR!
I am the Chairman’s son,
I’m maybe somewhat of a brat, but love you a ton,
And the only thing I ask of you,
Is to stand by my side, and be my wife,
And make me happy, for all of my remaining life!
How can a girl refuse such an awesome request?
I married Rory, he’s a gem, my case I do now rest!
Oh my greasy granny
With her little fanny
Boobs hung like boulders
That weigh down her shoulders
Her tummy wiggles like jelly
When she’s light and jolly
She dances a little wildly
With her music blasting loudly
Singing jazzy jingles
As she passes and she mingles
Doing the bump and grind
While wagging he behind
Sleeping oh so soundly
Snoring extremely loudly
Refusing to come awake
No matter how hard you shake
I would not change her no matter what
Even when she’s being a pain in the butt
Let's dance for the dead,
In beautiful nightmares,
And together we create the most eccentric tragic story,
No one has foreseen,
Will you be my Vampire?
There by the window is a huge portrait
It is quite whimsical yet dark despite sunshine
The eyes seem to follow you when you walk by
And it is rumored the woman was blind
But she had a sixth sense telling fortunes
And it is as if her portrait still reads you
I feel her soul seeping in the photo like an old tea bag
Such a handsome woman who had no glasses
Her eyes seem to always see despite the blank stare
Beneath the fluff of eyebrows peering below her huge hat
Her dress was colorful once now faded by time
She was known to be kind but eccentric but
A bit rebellious for a woman of her day
Each time I look at the eyes
I feel a strange sensation
Like she is not finish telling fortunes
Was she greeted by the death angel upon her end
Or did she rebel and descend to hell
Perhaps we find out when it is our time.
Oh, from what demented mind was born
A thing so pointless as a lawn?
Surely some old eccentric lord
In a mansion, born both rich and barmy,
Who could so lavishly afford
A mighty artful minion army
Of sowers of seed and pullers of weed
Of mowers of grass and spreaders of feed
That could do for him each filthy deed
And meet the lawns fortnightly need.
But we, suburban lowly born,
Must perforce do all this on our own
Lest our green and lifeless lawn
Become like a meadow, overgrown.
Oh, from what demented mind was born
A thing so pointless as a lawn?
© Barry Freeman – May 4th 2020
He was known as an eccentric;
Saving all of those bolts in a bucket
and for what?
No one really knew, except himself.
He kept numerous old jugs and cartons
around the house,
as if they were valued treasures.
Old string and ropes that he’d saved,
were tied in numerous knots;
each knot, the same distance apart.
There were shelves in his garage,
sporting old prescription containers,
full of small nails and tacks.
Old cardboard from laundered shirts,
and gardening magazines, stacked high;
reeking of must and mildew.
No one really understood why he saved everything.
His yard, full of buckets, sticks and…
old nylon hose, and torn pieces of worn shirts,
hung from the rafters in his garden shed.
See, he was a crack’in gardener;
his tomatoes were staked;
tied to the sticks with the old rags and nylons.
The buckets, he carried to the neighbors,
filled with luscious produce
and everyone in the neighborhood,
savored, the fruits of his labor,
for years on end.
.
werdz
the need
sumtimez the
urgent
tuh spill
then again
Dear diary
she were strut'n
not stroll'n
her purty glanced at me
no
not stared
her countenance though
said
"i'm the wife you're
looking for"
Okay
but she
wink'd