Best Fazed Poems
A friend once told me
How he was fascinated by me-
By how I could walk up to absolutely
Anyone and be their best friend,
Switch cultures like t-shirts
Emblazoned with "I heart
Fill-in-the-blank..."
I'm not sure quite how to explain
How once you've observed society
For long enough you realize
That just about everyone you
Will ever meet acts just like
Your own teenage brother,
Like your mother, your father,
Like your little sister-
Like the best friend you've
Known for your whole life...
Everyone has heard the phrase,
"We're all God's children,"
But it seems like everyone
Is suddenly blind to their
Family resemblence
When one of them says,
"Que tal, manito?" instead of
"What's up, bro?"
Don't tell me that it's
Not possible for you
To communicate with
Someone whose birth certificate
Lists a country of origin
That's different from your own-
Don't say you can't pick up
New language when "YOLO"
Was not an expression that
Existed on the face of the Earth
Until a couple of years ago...
Besides, we both know how you
Always found a way to
Gossip in class, by shooting hand
Gestures and loaded glances
Halfway across the classroom-
Halfway across a globe never
Seemed all that different to me,
So maybe that's the reason
I was never fazed
By a language barrier.
Categories:
fazed, culture, international,
Form:
Free verse
A party store robbery last weekend
deadly for patron and clerk
Suspect ran out, waving his gun
bandanna just covered his smirk
Eye-witnesses? Almost a dozen
not one of them saw anything
Which way did he go? We really don't know
straight faced they won't say a thing
No one was fazed by the gun that was raised
they said they were facing the wall
All of them stand with a phone in their hand
but no one had bothered to call
Now there are two families mourning
the witnesses should be ashamed
Now will they do right, and help the law fight
or be the next patron that's "slain"
Its a tough one for many to answer
they stay out and don't get involved
They're usually the first ones complaining
that another crime didn't get solved
Remember who you, turn your back on
it's easy to say "don't ask me"
So don't think that it's pride when you must decide
and who will you call? We shall see...
Categories:
fazed, community, conflict, humanity, life,
Form:
Narrative
Warning - Don't read The Raven and Watch Hitchcock on the same night.
Once before my bedtime, nearing, which I dreaded, fazed and fearing,
Stories mother would read me before she closed and locked my bedroom door —
While I washed up in the water, could mom have drawn it any hotter?
Before me swam a rubber duckling, chuckling as my mother shut the door
“‘Tis some water fowl”, I muttered, “which mother bought me from the store.
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I can place it - the sad night Mother would misplace it;
Or entirely erase it; of her mind remaining nothing more.
I lay in bed, mother tucking, on feathers of mother’s plucking
Time for your book, said mother clucking, clucking as she locked the bedroom door —
I’ll read “Make Way for Ducklings” and then warm milk she began to pour -
all across the bedroom floor.
Assuredly, I felt no sorrow, as mother left me till the morrow
Sighing - buying time – which maybe I could only hope to borrow;
I heard my monstrous mother screaming, or maybe Tippi Hedren streaming
as Hitchcock’s “Birds” was beaming from the TV laying on the floor—
“’Tis just Hitchcock’s “Birds” beaming from the TV laying on the floor” -
This it is and nothing more.”
Inside that book peered at me smiling, a crazed duck that set me dialing
911 and protective services to frantically implore
The feeling in my stomach sinking, “I need a friend”, I was thinking
Staring wildly at this ghastly mallard who chilled me to the core
Then, at once, I saw it, heard it, this grinning duck needn’t chill me to the core
as he said, “I will be your friend forevermore”.
Categories:
fazed, humor, parody,
Form:
Rhyme
The giraffe
Haughty and fond of herbivorous feasts,
Tends to look down on his wee fellow beasts.
The elephant
Thin outer ears are gargantuan-sized,
Tickling the ivories isn't advised.
The pelican
Genus of water-bird with a long beak,
And in his throat there is food for a week.
The crocodile
Don't you be fooled by his sad, tearful eyes
He's out to get you - it's just a disguise.
The zebra
Sports a moheccan style tuft on his head
And he wears stripey pyjamas to bed.
The panda
Never one fazed by what's wrong or what's right,
Tends to see everything in black and white.
The kangaroo
He lives 'down under'- Australia's pride
With little Joey who's there for the ride.
The zoo
All of these creatures hang out at the zoo
Feeding time heralds a hullabaloo!
04/11/18
Categories:
fazed, animal,
Form:
Couplet
It's time now for me to start a new,
I have to as all my poems were removed.
Locked out of my account by poetrysoup,
I was excluded in exile from this poetry loop.
Following this exclusion I am now back,
not fazed pulsating the evolutionary track,
evading the limits as I upgrade and adapt,
soaking up the jargon and improving my act.
Many others write rhymes befiting to poetry,
with less common or poetic words in decipher reads,
my rhymes are more fitting to an unsightly reality,
with everyday common words on the contrary.
On the face my style has a lesser appearance,
but I write rhymes for head and chest clearance,
I don't comply to the contemporary coherence,
I'm more a wild card away from adherence.
I had created a monster,
the sort offence sponsors,
a repulsive imposter
receiving revolted responses.
A quest that I conquered with ease and perfected,
but went to far and squandered to see it ejected,
wondering beyond the boundaries until disconnected,
I didn't ponder it, I was fond of it that's why it was selected.
When I get knocked down I return with haste,
grab a fresh slate and draft a brand new taste,
when you lose all, start new and don't hesitate,
in the face of adversity carry on and create.
My life's a quest to evolve and progress,
each test to solve, break down and digest,
unstoppable on this path until I witness,
a poem I write with rhyme finesse.
Categories:
fazed, character, endurance, growth, inspiration,
Form:
Rhyme
fazed
fireworks
fanciful
fantasia
fun
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
Submitted on March 10, 2019 for contest LIGHT UP THE PAGE 2 sponsored by JOSEPH MAY
Categories:
fazed, firework, fun, word play,
Form:
Lanterne
KEEPING ABREAST OF THE SITUATION
A lady's out doing her shopping
She's braless, both boobies are flopping
V necked dress, not the best
Cos out popped her right breast
The nipple display was eye popping!
I observed this today - this buxom lass bent forward to get something that she had dropped and I got a real eyeful – she wasn’t fazed just whopped it back in and got on with her shopping!!!
For Leah - thanks for encouraging me to write this story BBxx
07/20/21
Categories:
fazed, body, clothes, humorous,
Form:
Limerick
THE COFFEE SHOP
BY EZAR AND STEPHANIE
The Coffee Shop (Male)
It was a warm summer afternoon; As the sun covered the sidewalk like they were bride and groom.
On my way to the coffee shop, a place where I often stop… In the downtown city blocks.
Wearing cream designer shirt, shoes, slacks, and socks; I saw walking towards me a lady with beauty on lock; Designer dressed from bottom to top.
Louis Vuitton heels, the color of scorching hot; Thinking to myself, she deserve props. Not realizing that we were both headed to coffee shop, a place where I often stopped.
Like a gentleman, I open the door to let her in Prada is what I smelled in the wind.
Oh my, she had thick legs and thick thighs Brown skin with light brown eyes.
Headed to the Bristo with a laptop by her side…
She ordered a caramel latte. What do I do to break the ice and conversate?
At the coffee shop a place where I often stopped.
Written by Ezar Williams
The Coffee Shop (Female)
Work heavy on my mind; Mid day, need to break away and unwind
The weather is warm to my skin; The air is breezy and fresh as I take it all in…On my way to the coffee shop where I often stop.
Laptop in one hand, purse in the other; As I walked towards the door, I noticed a “Brotha”?
Tall, dark, and handsome would not be original; This Brotha has stance, confidence of someone spiritual.
He opened the door, as a gentleman should; I walked by, nodded politely, but in my mind he stood.
His eyes spoke, and his smile remained still; Designer dressed, shoes, matching hat, dressed to kill.
I headed to the counter to order my favorite drink as if I wasn’t fazed; By his inviting stature or silent praise.
“Caramel Latte” I request, “I’ll be at my usual table” I directed.
Something was different at the coffee shop, a place where I often stopped.
Written by Stephanie Jones
Categories:
fazed, anxiety, black african american,
Form:
Lyric
I'm driving down the street
Taking in the sight & sounds.
I see a disturbing sight
A family pushing a shopping cart around.
Their clothes are dirty
They look like they haven't eaten in days.
But somehow it doesn't bother them
They don't seemed to be fazed.
People walked & drove past them
As if they weren't there.
They acted like, it isn't my problem
Why should I care?
I wanted to get out my car
& offer this family some encouragement.
Give them a few bucks
So their kids could have some nourishment.
I didn't, I kept driving
& stopped looking their way.
I was like everyone else
I didn't care anyway.
I started thinking of my own children
Could I put them through this?
Could we fit all we own in a shopping cart
& still live in bliss?
Would our pride allow us
To ask strangers for change?
Would we suffer from culture shock
If our lives were that much rearranged.
Would we be able to deal with
The weather, the hunger, shame?
To be amongst the nameless
Where no one knows your name.
I started to feel bad for this family
So I turned my car around.
I went to look for them
But they were nowhere to be found.
I got home & got on my knees
& began to pray.
I asked God to shine his light on them
& give this family better days.
I prayed for those 3 children
Who looked tired & worn out.
I prayed for their mother too
Her eyes were so filled with doubt.
I prayed for their father
Who felt like he failed his family.
Who am i to judge them
Hell, that could of been me.
For some reason that family
Stays on my mind.
I never saw them again
They're just a memory in time.
I often wonder what became of them.
Did they ever get through this?
They are stronger than my family
There's no way we could ever do this.
When I start thinking life is hard
& my world's coming apart.
I just think of that family
Pushing that Wal-Mart shopping cart.
Categories:
fazed, community, courage, sad,
Form:
Bio
FROSTY
By
Kevin L Fairbrother
A Stock Horse… High Country Bred
Dark Palomino with white patches on his body and head
A solid well-muscled body and sturdy big boned legs
With strong shoulders and a massive muscled rear end
…
Sure footed FROSTY would go anywhere
A gallop on the marshes through creeks and river beds
Up and down steep and rocky hills, through thick bush and scrub
Nothing would impede his progress, he never gave up
…
He would carry heavy loads of Kangaroo and Deer
A friend to so many on the regular weekend hunt
Not fazed, never flinch when the guns went off
Work all day in the bush from dawn to dusk
…
Working with the dogs to gather sheep from the hills and plains
His rider sitting comfortable and on a loose rein
Picking his way around the fallen timber and rocky scree
Nothing would stop him no need of spur or whip
Stock horse competitions he would excel and prove his worth
Trail riding he was hard to beat in manners and stamina
DUSTY was loved by all who had the chance to meet him
His reputation admired and known by country and city people alike
…
But on a cold windy winters, morning, FROSTY was startled
Rising from the rough and ragged ground where he lay
His leg got caught, snapped his shoulder, struggling to get up
A sad time next morning when he was found, there was no hope
…
FROSTY was put down
Buried on the wind swept plains where he was born
And close to another legend of the High Country
His Mom
…
Such a legend FROSTY was gone before his time
But he will be remembered for his nature and strength
For on the high country his memory lives amongst so many
And round the camp fires FROSTY story will be told
Penned on the 23/01/15
Categories:
fazed, animal, best friend, death
Form:
Free verse
How often do you visit the Library? And what do you see?
I see oceans and seas of books plus a homeless man doing zzz’s..
He’d apparently been reading before, he fell deep asleep.
He can stay there, they say, as long as he doesn’t lie down to sleep.
Sitting up is OK and of course, as long as he doesn’t create a scene.
He’s kind and gracious and a little strange but can debate any role
When he walked over, we had a talk about the devil verses mind control.
Without asking, what he really wanted was someone to buy him lunch.
There’s a McDonalds two doors down from where we were bunched.
I don’t know what I expected when he woke up and looked around.
But when I asked if he was homeless he wasn’t fazed at all.
Yes, I have been for a while, he said, but my boat will soon come in.
And I realized the library is a warm, safe place to relax and to be.
And the librarians seem content to just let him be.
In the end, I was sorry I couldn’t buy him that lunch.
But recently, my abilities to do so had become a little stretched.
I used to buy the books I read… now the library is more my taste.
I just hope if it comes to that… he’ll graciously share this place.
The library even has computers from where you could write.
And the people there are varied and really rather kind.
I’m on the edge but whole family’s once prosperous are already there.
Cheap hotel rooms in even cheaper hotels, once skirted are full.
The jobs don’t pay for anything more. They are: Bitter, Disgruntled, Lost.
Needed are better and more jobs to re-establish the American Dream.
To give them some hope so they can go back there again…
And don’t just act toward them… like they’re your library man…
Give them back their American Dream as best you can.
Voice of Reason Contest
Categories:
fazed, adventure, business, education, introspection,
Form:
Couplet
Cold day?
I am not fazed or dazed By
Winter’s fast approach because In such cold days
I just indulge in the comfort of Clinging onto my curvaceous wife’s gorgeous Cleavage
It’s like mind over matter as Minutes turn to hours and hours into days
I mean, Under clean sheets as our bodies collide and slide ,
as we twist and turn , till we both get burnt like we are laying naked on the sun’s surface.
our hearts mingled as one in a body to body out of body experience it seems we fracture the space time displacement
because you see , indulging in such a pleasure would have you think and feel that two hours is actually just a second
For Men and women who are unified in marriage as I , winter is not to be feared ,
Coz you see, My wife’s tender loving care
Completely covers me like the luxurious fur of a polar bear
It is As though she’s Whispering kisses, when her soft lips make contact with my skin, they bring adrenalin driven warmth to my cold ears.
Ahm…
While others get dressed up / with Boots , coats , scuffs and gloves
We get cooped up
close our eyes and but open minds to new ways of love
ahm,
We conquered a cold day
With a much Coveted foreplay
Bongani Malete , Ronny Madonsela
03/03/2014
Categories:
fazed, for her,
Form:
Free verse
all you write about is them happy old days
before hair wore thin turned white from grey
rumour has it bad mouthing my name
wise men stay away while you complain.
what is it you don’t like
how I talk of real life
downhill sights
how life bites,
am I not herpy cherpy enough
wear a smile on my face
hurt me hardly not even fazed,
clearly I'm a vile taste
tough tea teas
at least I'm honest not slander committees
out to harm whilst hidden weak and witchy.
see you write of love and nice
but slag me off like a poltergeist,
behind my back throwing dice
shut your face my only advice.
cus me and you are different ages
I’m the internet you’re paper pages
in my prime you’re about to go crazy
spend all day spaced out and dazy
whoops the daisy
looks like you got a raise out me now rose
I'll bash thee rashly
head to toe bask then dash free feeding woes.
picking out a poet with less experience not close
all those your age make you appear dense in pose
so got to go low
shooting like a bozo
but you should know though
I’m a rascal make you dizzie in slowmo
you should never pull my lever
growing up you wrote with feather
mister cotton wool I'm the leather bull
you spread the word make your message fly
cus I’ll live for sixty years after you die
that's it conflict over
leave you old slumped over
nice to know ya
not really coward bye now
Categories:
fazed, anti bullying, character, confidence,
Form:
Rhyme
You are thicker than summer night humid air
Sweating beneath a ceiling fan
Wishing it would stop
You are the Butterfly to my Moth
You love in spade's
You make light of darker day's
Of nothing have I ever seen you fazed
You buy me little treats at the end of every month
When you have been paid
You make washing dirty dishes a treat
You sweep me off my feet
Everytime our eyes cross
You make me tolerate my idiot Boss
You make me want children
For you to be there Mum
You leave me overcome
You make me accept who I have eventually become
You are the vision in my dream's
You are the Pearl inside my shell
You hold my hand while watching horror movie's
You shepherd me from harm
Your voice is my Monday morning wake up alarm
You offer me up your last tissue when I sneeze
You make the greatest cup of tea
You take the day off work to nurse me when I am sick
You make everything in the world
That used to confused me
Finally, Click
You never miss a trick
My 4 season's in 1 day
The Heroine in my unwritten play
Spring in early May
Sex with added birthday foreplay
The reason my Mother said
Marry this girl my Son
Put a ring upon her finger
Before she comes to her senses
I want her as my Daughter in Law
As much as I love you my Son
Categories:
fazed, love, slam,
Form:
Free verse
Taught Iago to trance,
the pungent smell made me balance the stance,
raided the 'pulse' and sought no other deviant,
I was looted in the same way I soared above all the monumentleness,
and got into it ahead.
They told us that we 'like' the hold on the today's whole whole because of the ways that the daze distracts in haze, on lightness and bled out fazed rocketry-
totality toward tanking is the remaking so I can start happily planking the tanned plinked' out shaking,
and be my own staking-
he'd let me know in an outside laking that the entanglements are not withstood otherwise so in our own eye's we tie and tie, and say goodbye doll, die die!
Your own forgiveness is in a way it's own stay yet the hearing does not go over that one flip and dive to dig like it's all sits in...
Your keep and your bold are not getting as old as the try in our sky and demand of the night to spy...
I'd take anyone on in a jimmin' janky dotton berry heelie feelie wheelie straight down the center of common carry.
Categories:
fazed, color, confidence, creation, cry,
Form:
Free verse