Best Flummoxed Poems
Empty spaces, filled with broken places and faces
As I count the paces between these once beautiful places
I notice that I am trapped in a hollow, draining, unrelenting stasis
A vortex of sorrow, that makes the soul forever wallow
Once kind souls able to cherish, now filled with snarls able to perish
With pointed remarks so cold, lays waste to the one who shall behold
Angled gazes turned away, now giving praises to the one once claiming betray
On a lonely summers day, with good reason, decided to stay away
The ignition to the source, of a volatile resource
Without any recourse, pointlessly hoping for a sign of remorse
As he ponders his unexplained treason, he struggles to find reason
For once was hailed as a star, now left adrift, no rig or spar
As he finds his own way, dawn brings the promise of a new day
As we strive for a better tomorrow, we get approbation for wisdom we appropriate and borrow
Yet situations go amiss, leaving us flummoxed and perplexed wondering in an abyss
But we all get up some day, feeling stronger and seeking a new way
Finding that providence, will renew our confidence
The “rinodemwiticus”
It stood proudly hungry
watching all the others sate themselves
promising them forever more.
It turned – I saw the other face
preening itself as it strode
through the debris of its
efforts to build a bigger nest.
I watched it struggle to sleep
wrestling with its duplicity,
doing battle with its multi-faceted
manic manipulation of the pillow.
In fitful sleep it flip flops on itself,
tells lies about the lies it claims
it never told. One voice shouts:
“I will save everyone from everything”
the other interrupts loudly:
“I will give everything to everybody.”
Six owls fell out of the trees
stunned by the depth of this “logic”.
The wolves took off their “sheep’s clothing”,
the fox moved into the henhouse,
the lamb looked at the lion and said”
“Don’t even think about it Leo.”
Chicken Little and The Little Red Hen
were led away in handcuffs.
The rotating head of the “rinodemwiticus”
contradicted itself continuously.
Soon the whole forest was aroar
with grumbling and fighting.
Christopher Robin hid the honey from Pooh,
Mary’s Little Lamb hooked school,
the Cookie Monster was “fat shamed”
into unemployment and depression.
And still the “rinodemwiticus” whirled
spewing its noxious vitriol on the
flummoxed masses lest it be seen
too soon to be the extinct two faced
aberration that it is.
4/3/2016
submitted to – A New Species – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Anthony Slausen
With a spine of steel
I walked down the lane,
The mortals lacked the pluck
to cross me in disdain!
To the trader i quizzed,
Buddy, 'Hows Business?'
Mum was the trader
With his lungs in distress!
Flummoxed was my mind,
To see the traders dread!
His Action made me wonder
"Did i ask him for his head?"
Shivering were the dames,
When i heard'em mumble!
He's the mafia who bashed,
the goons till they crumble!
Zapping in my mind were scenes,
when i beat the ugly teens!
N now i knew the reason why,
No one dared to cross me by!
Convicted- Guilty was I
in the people's dumb court.
Outcast was the name
and seclusion what i got!
I tried to mix with people,
I tried to make'em laugh.
But in a world of hoax faiths,
My feelings were so dwarf!
As the winter came in
the birds set sail.
My comments lost worth,
My gags were old n stale!
As the trees dried
I failed to create dread,
Humans took me for granted
in my brawl for bread!
The drive-in was to glow,
when i came for rum!
Ignored by the crowd,
I felt like a bootless bum!
Smothered by this Scene,
I walked home in despair.
Baffled by the Question
"Why these jerks don't care?"
TO BE
CONTINUED................
Fire bursting through
Meteorites soaring high
Peril among us
Leaving citizens flummoxed
Oh, a woeful day!
THE COLD CLING OF SPRING
Pretty petals ferociously fall as Spring releases its fury.
Blooming cherry blossoms in disarray, decry a disaster.
Rosebuds refuse to unfurl like a flummoxed fist of stubbornness.
Like moray eels, the moss morphs into a menacing hue,
as blackened clouds crowd out the signs of light and life.
The wind in winey whisper, wallows and whips up, into meringue swells.
Pathological pines, with nesting nettles, fly through worried windows,
and ornery oaks uncork an unholy battle for the braveheart to lose.
Voracious ivy vines, unwind, wrap up a horrified house like a ghastly gift.
Teeny tiny eyes in buried basements hearken to the howl of the harried storm.
Sheltered shells of confusion, await the arrival of calm and catastrophe.
Flash of a fresh new day, finds friends hugging, holding hands, waxing wings
of action, surveying the skies, the smiling sun, the warmth
of Winter’s waning and Spring’s taming. Yet the cold clings
to the forest of ferns and forget-me-nots, fretting at mocking skies,
mottled in chaotic cataclysmic chokehold like weary wrestlers.
When will this season settle down? Dreary and drowning in snow and rain.
Disdain on bushy brows. Parasols on parade in perpetual mourning frown.
Still evergreen buds, buddy up to branches, and dot-to-dot blossoms
appear amidst a washed out willow slowly sipping sanguine revelry.
3/27/2018
Silent One’s Alliteration Contest
Written: February 28, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori
***********************
I long to explore
the depth of your flummoxed mind,
fathom the forms of
your emotions,
and outline the scenery of
in dreams of avarice
It seems to be the right time
to thrive, to flourish
In this sacred space,
we build together,
from strands of gloom
where whispers bear root
and emotion bloom.
in quiet, we'll savor
the halcyon garden
of dancing daffodils
and radiant rays,
beyond splendid orbs
and fluttering, fickle flowers
Can't you catch a glimpse
of life not being all gray?
We have never felt so uplifted
and so high full of hope!
waiting wistfully beneath
the whispering willow.
As time ticks by,
I have been tallying,
and now it's time
to amend our perspective.
On this onyx challenge, I face,
there are no winners to find.
My role isn't to create
splattered, noxious rhymes;
rather, I often seek escape from it all.
I strive to express
our communion,
as we sow and reap
In this shared space
Of ideas and inspirations,
to freeze the marvelous symphony
within your solipsistic gaze;
don't you long to
reconnect with my maze,
the joy of everyday life?
and capture that fantastic
Melody in my spirit too?
It only takes a moment,
or so they say.
~*~
=====================
LAZULINE sheen glittered,
~~flummoxed~~
SAPPHIRE ASTER thrived,
forget-me-not blooms,
morning glory smiles in aureate sunrise,
as seasons swap in jitters,
~~"LOVE's new moment"~~
SEPTEMBER'S zephyr gust in solemn hymn
flowers celebrate in gaiety ...
evoking such a METAMORPHOSIS to be reckoned with ...
"why month's glyph always in BLUE?"
~*~
=========================================
"BRIAN STRAND CONTEST" entry
Flummoxed foxes fleeing, fumbling forward from furious
Hurried heaving hounds howling hourly hitherto
Stop
Withered weathered wild woods would weep when
Man made memories murdering many mammals
Stop
If you find yourself flummoxed with flu
There’s really not much you can do.
Sip some soup or drink tea
And eventually
You’ll feel less and less apt to ach-oo!
Which way to go,
Which way to turn…
Im so confused,
Is it everything I should burn?
Make it all brand new
Start from scratch.
Considering I'm lost,
Is that my best match?
Chose one path over the other
One that's best for me…
So flummoxed
Which one may that be?
Can't have both…
A decision has to be decided...
I have no clue,
Why am I so double-minded?
At the spilt in the fork
Laying here in the middle of the road...
Left to ponder,
My prince derives from which toad?
Muddle and muck
Decisions makes me feel yuck.
Left to meditate,
Why does this have to suck?
Perplexed, somber, frightened
Lost in a lonely world…
Tears trickle down my cheek
Left with no one to hold.
troubled tales unfold somewhere down in the realm of dreams
and tricking beats
most days begin this way, hiding, beneath the quilt,
submerged in layers
fluid flows against the slant of tilt, coalescing
with warm moist arousal
something rises from the deep with a dim sense of self
still kicking sheets
my who, my where, my when is warped, whirling and twirling
in time reversal
observe, as scenes shift in apparent random sequence
so unsettling
scary run through the strangely familiar
running, running, running
float out beyond a murky leap fro danger
in sublime rehearsal
to break surface instantly, suddenly exposed
protruding shoulder cold
left-over feelings endure, mood colouring
unexplained demeanour
afterthoughts flood in, disturbing the mixing broth
with incoherent desire
flummoxed flung, strewn scattered stones
where tumbling boulders rolled
my bleary one eye blinks, shafts of light revealing
cruelly crude occasion
as the external world forward-beats
tick-tocking the moment
ever-present memories merge and play
imagined expectation
my companion travels in close, touching skin
soothing this rude invasion
dawn greeting, outstretched arms uplifted
open to the blowing sky
wild branches sway, apple fruit swinging
joyous before the fall
little birds dart for cover, bigger wings flapping off
to hidden roosts
ominous rain precipitates, stirring the mud into uncertainty
the hope of knowing why
Written: January 26, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Sara Jama
Quote by Geoffrey Chaucer "Time and tide wait for no man,"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Time, a poltergeist whisper
slipping through the cracks
Moments shimmer
akin to Petunia petals aloft,
a hypnotic dance —
ephemeral yet priceless.
Time waits for no one;
haven't you felt its rush?
Time waits for no one —
It simply drifts away.
With each tick, clocks transform
into the fabric of history—
you seize fleeting seconds
as if they could stretch forever.
Wilted Orchids echo
forgotten dreams,
pulled by unseen forces
upon a canvas of memories.
Each speck of time,
a mason's chipped work.
Harmonic motions dim
in the palms of eternity;
calming breezes frown
upon autumn’s sunlit glow.
No one halts time—it surges on!
It speeds faster than a blink.
Nostalgia weaves itself
around crystal vessels,
while moonflower garlands
bloom amid hazy dreams.
Tattletale smiles escape
into hollow nights—
a foggy embrace
filled with haunting whispers and grins.
Tulips muted bluish—gray
etch their tale in time’s shore.
Embrace winter’s trudge
and find solace unvexed:
surf through waves of magic
knowing love beams bright.
Galumph through life
daring despite harsh fates:
vagabond dreams vaudeville
within flummoxed hearts;
a rainbow palette spreads
beneath a hammock sky.
No matter what, it lies ahead.
After passing, it's futile to cling on.
Desolation puckers beneath
the glistening dew decline,
an abyss where bleeding
wrists are fodder for worms.
A sycophantic squire crafts
kismet kernels stripped—
flesh ripped by careless slips,
losing grip on whispers;
breaths juggle surly skies,
sharp as bleak thorns.
From cradle to grave,
We've learned —
that time is wealth
we must cherish.
Darkness veils endless roads,
plummeting in twilight throes.
tangled fears mimic
Dionysus amphetamine highs—
brimstone offers esoteric solace
that straddles the magnetic edge.
Whispers eviscerate as they swirl,
amber kisses across fallen stars.
Crocuses bloom in purple
while goldfinch trill
yellow celandine riddles.
Employ your edge before it fades.
Everyone longs for plenty of time.
You can't carry time with you
money cannot reclaim lost time.
Lost in the depth of his pearlescent black eyes
shining brilliantly
(Just for me)
Those almost-crimped wrinkles intensify his smile
ev'n as the sea breeze ruffles his hair
(I can only stare)
The thrum of my heartbeat can be heard
above the howling of the sea
at eventide
(We stand side by side)
Holding hands, we breathe in the salty tang silently
me and my macushla
(Handsome fella)
My feral flummoxed feelings of before have fled
now I am content with joy
My heart overflows
(I think it shows)
He winks at me knowingly
and I find myself falling plumb in love
with my husband once again.
03.18.2021
For John Hamilton's "Eight word Bardenesque challenge" contest
I watched some DVD’s
Of Johnny Carson’s late-night show.
I’d seen a few but that was
Many, many years ago.
He really was hilarious.
His laughter was contagious;
And nothing really flummoxed him,
No matter how outrageous.
He sparkled with non-human guests –
Orangutans and roosters.
Comedians considered him
The best of all their boosters.
As Carnac the Magnificent,
His face could not conceal
How silly were the answers
That his “power” would reveal.
So many pies were thrown at him,
He took each one in stride.
He’d suffer all indignities
If laughs they would provide.
His deadpan looks were priceless
And his banter was the best.
He took the role of talk-show host
And man, was it finessed!
As far as TV shows today,
You really can’t compare;
But after just a taste, I wish
He still was on the air.
Insolent and ebullient ,
The thistles and thorns proliferate
In the wake of the roses' spectacular demise -
ruthlessly cut down in its prime
Eyes misty , yearning for the vivacity of yesteryears
Reminiscence of glory days
Paling into oblivion in the light of hostile reality
Shoulders weary from propping up the universe's punitive weight
Smiles contrived and wry ,
Dismal in their attempts to hide the heart's wistfulness
Like a mother in agony who has to be strong for her children.
Giddy gaits ,tell a story of incessant kicking against the current
Brittle sweat dripping from subjugated brows
Like a War hero disgraced ,
Years of noble sacrifice wilt away in ignominy
Obliterated from all conversations of consequence
Voices raspy from continuous shouting into sealed ears
Knuckles charcoal black from relentless knocking on silent doors
Like a mud hut under the barrage of a tropical cyclone ,
Self esteem threatens to cave in
Forlorn in a world, ferocious and rapacious
Like a juvenile bushbuck ,being preyed upon by a pack of spotted hyenas
Utterly flummoxed by the dense air of perilousness.
Uncertainty ,anxiety ,fear ,
The price for wading into unfamiliar waters
Like an inexperienced sailor in tempestuous seas
Its a battle against insurmountable odds
Adulthood