Best Fuddled Poems
A fuddled mind surfs through tides.
Harboured, she sits by the sea doing nothing.
Her toes make electric touch with the water
Restless currents ... spark the sand.
She could see the ocean break into two parts.
Did the Ocean have a heart?
She had salt in her tears..
She had pepper in her eyes..
The briny breeze..why was it so bitter?...
She knew... she was a Cheater.
He had a heart of ocean.
A treasure of glowing pearls within.
She had pushed him off the coast of Trust.
He was shipwrecked by her deceit.
The tail of the Mermaid was hidden.
He could see only half her face.
Tranquil in innocence and ignorance..
He was blind to the treacherous disgrace.
Etched by the smouldering Tsunami
An island imprisoned her stranded.
The Mermaid drowned and drowned..
in the sea of encumbrance...
she thought...
Is there a second chance?
3rd November 2018
Tell me a story 2 poetry contest
Sponsor Brenda Chiri
PLACED SIXTH IN CONTEST
and a switch flicks
who are you he asks
it should be me
asking who are you
until the switch
flicks back to . . .
fuddled hours
gone are the simplest things
a crayon in a box of pens
then that switch
and it’s who are you
I want to go home
but in truth
it’s who are you
as now a foreign clarity of sorts
no more mumbling incoherence
no shuffling walk
now it’s clear, sure
and behold
a different person emerges
occupying my father
secretly all this time
now stepping out
through the non-dominance
and slowly
becoming the dominant part
a battle of the hemispheres
dementia – an uprising
of hidden people
from somewhere ago
Happy. Genial. Merry. Jolly
Blottoed, blasted, etched and blitzed
Mellow, foggy, hazy, squiffy
Tipsy. Tiddly. Brahms and Liszt
Dazed, zombied, tanked-up, trollied
Ganted, gubbed, guttered
Bladdered, blathered, leathered, plastered,
Sozzled, sloshed, scuttered
Hammered, battered, caned, mangled
Spannered, mullered. Half-cut, lashed
Twisted, warped, slammed, wasted
Wrecked, ruined. Munted, trashed
Liquified, marinated, juiced, sauced,
Steamed, pickled, fried
Cabbaged, mashed, cooked, baked
Boiled, stewed. Pie-eyed
Stinking. Howling. Pole-axed, floored
Under the influence. Off one's woo
Steampigged, badgered, ratted, goosed,
Clobbered. Lairy. Boogaloo
3 sheets to the wind. Away with the fairies
Under the table. Tight as a tick.
Ankled, wellied, trousered, legless,
Bevvied, swizzled, pot-sick.
One over the eight. Out nibbling the grape.
Rosy. Rummy. Poggled.
Jober as a sudge. Laughing at the carpet.
Seeing double. Boggled.
Lubricated, oiled, pixilated, ploughed
Intoxicated, inebriated. On the grog
Wobbly, jungled, off to the races
Lit up, shot down. Cocked as a log
As a lord, as a piper, as a fiddler, as a poet,
As a newt, as a monkey, as a skunk
As a sailor, as a mouse, as a pig, as a fart
Muddled. Fuddled. Or just plain drunk
Words and experiences, many of us share
And I'm sure there's a few that I've missed
But while some get "tired and emotional"
I just prefer to get…
Feelings of my heart, pouring like a foss
To the queen goddess of Pothos and Himeros
Before her alluring reflection I’m nak’d
My bones, flesh consum’d and spirit possess’d
With a fuddled heart fallen out of ease
Drunk of love like palm wine to the lees.
Omosi, pretty woman, daughter of Anwu
Me, none of the women of all climes do
Make sojourn ten seas and vales by heart
In one day and yet not a single step far,
The mystery of your nature to know
If beauty a mask worn and love a shadow.
What’s this desire for her that’s prisoned me
That bitter herbs turned sweet honey?
Her whisper is music divine that diminishes
A host of Angels echoing Gloria in Excelsis;
Her embrace’s elixir for life’s incubuses
And I’d forget my worries in her embraces.
Sweet love, sweet sweet love making
The body swings, the heart ever longing
To eat of her forbidden fruit and so
Be drown in sensation as deep as the Congo
That ever more takes freedom and innocence
From me and leaves a heavy heart thence.
Is’t by fate my heart be ever restless
For her? Or predestined to be I guess.
Though beauty fleets, love an illusion pass
And the acid test of time makes her carcass
She’ll rouse my heart and my manhood too
To refute the norm that makes a taboo.
She’s my heart made to be ever forlorn
To our love that’s worn a crown of thorn
By them who never know or can tell
That the pangs of being denied love is hell
With consuming regret, desire and endless sigh
And that’s all there’s, nothing else beside!
Thumbs Up To The Journey
At the footbridge as it bridges past from present future and perspectives your
feet might be-come and may be-go confused be-fuddled as can your mind before
the shadows rainbows feathered fancy pastel tunes and blues-bound colours
can memories anticipation taking-stock ooze pots and lots of lived experience
re-scribed re-told rewound projected narrated from emotive thoughts
stand still
At the bridge as it cradles the canyon with ladles and measures of the moment
where it spans what once was what you enrich in here and now not there and then the sweeping meadows fields of harvest schisms unions paradigms evaluations can treasures scary scars letting-go liberate scents and stents of living fragrance perceived untold configured touched upon stocked up condensed
reflected wait
The past is yet to come and not withstanding what bridge which side what size
and whence long gone remembrance spins and spans and slows and speeds the motion the sunrise dusk and dawning tapestry mosaic photographic lens sensations can truth reality attitudes and imperfections find soul and solace shared solitude re-modelled shaped anew confronted soothed harmonised
accentuated rise
The future has arrived and has been long projected and the past is living on
where they settle and sizzle on in ember’s glory and ashes to ashes and Phoenix in flight when horizons and boxes un-boxed wriggling worms preceding grave graves can joy pleasure senses and sexes passion peace human works of art in progress accepted invited challenged unchallenged channelled welcomed
gratitude prevail
At the foot-bridge at the mind-bridge where it bridges cradles sweeps your meaning brushes and jungles juggles and wonders which hand’s intuition which path to follow lie the answers to the questions asked lie the questions known and
not yet explored
24th July 2016
The smell of dark coffee brews in early morn
Such a treat to wake up to, when I’m groggy and worn
I’m not fond of fancy frothy coffee shop brews
None of them will really do
Unless you pour a spot of Irish cream to fire ups the horn
When my girlfriend Susie would come over to stew
I always put on a fresh pot of dark roasted coffee to brew
I have always been a softy when giving her a caring shoulder
We enjoyed the bliss of coffee and Baileys Irish Cream liqueur
to make us bolder.
Friendship with laughter is a treasure with a sip of coffee will always do
When I was young,
Mommy would sometimes wake up looking like a fuddled zombie,
But
As soon as she’d have her first cup of sugary with cream coffee
She’d be our mommy again cooking us something good for our tummies.
12/9/2016
Sit me here without merriment have I
Me teacher to I say
Ascertain this thing called Pi
Be fuddled be fluxed be fizzled
Me brain light just dies.
Stand me here what lavish leading tones sings I
Me teacher to I say
Sing the words-vocalize
Loudly Laudably Laughingly
Me soul un lamentably does rise.
Saturated me-self in what knowledge have I
Me teacher to I say
Graduate this day and be baptized
Apprized with fisheyes
Me soul doth now say banzai
Machiavelli's false theory reigns supreme,
I have no use for your marbles,
So economize your garbles!
What use has a mannequin of a dream?
The dull green top, it spins in fuddled haste,
True beauty's torture in its stagnant jig,
Gulp! Don't savour the devil in the taste,
The plot's been bought and now it's time to dig.
Fare thee well and may ye always be merry
on thine voyage to your darlings, Poetry.
COUPLE FUDDLED
A once wedded couple,
Looking forward to a quiet cuddle,
Drank too much wine,
Got dizzy did not even dine,
As their minds became a complete fuddle!
Not the first time...........
I cheated death......
Last week...
What a narrow squeak!
The car narrowly missing me........
Yet determined to run me down
Put me underground.....
The time was not meant to be
The airliner crash last year..........
me...........
The only person to walk free!
So many lost lives
More than I can bear
Two months past
The train....
Did I fall or was I pushed?
My fuddled brain!
It seems so long ago
How did I last?
What a week it's been!
The wife ,tripped and fell
Carving knife nearly put me in hell
What a life!
Still, I am sure it was an accident
Her insistence..........
That it was pure coincidence
Now I am thinking........
That meteorite
From five years past
That landed on my house
My life,nearly my last,
as well as the spouse
Nearly had the last rites!
Is it me?
Or is it me?
That accidental drowning
Mother in law frowning.
Thought I was done!
Still, I swum away from that one!
Now,I am thinking...........
Is this some sort of sick joke?
Why me?
I am an ordinary bloke
The ship did its' own sinking!
I stepped outside..........
The building crumbled to the ground
I looked around
Everyone else died!
What a week it's been!
Still, life is on the up
Half full
Half empty
It's my cup
You know what I mean!
Life is to be enjoyed!
stuff the insurance from lloyds!
Hang these narrow squeaks
These past weeks
At my insistence,
it's all a coincidence!
Now, I am thinking
that bullet
Was it meant for me?
It dropped at my feet
My name engraved
I was saved!
You see!
I wear it as a lucky charm..........
I have come to no harm
This I know
Wish I had it weeks ago!
The lightning strike.............
I didn't like
Frightened me!
Not as much as the resulting fire.............
Could have been my funeral pyre.........
Hence forth, I will....
Carry on as before
Defeating nature's law
Avoiding the kill!
But old age might get me
But I don't know..........
It will take some years.......
you see..........
I have no fears
Bring it on!
I am the star of.......
The Narrow Squeak Show!
Oval glass
Like your waistline
Touches my fingers
Whisky in it
Pretty hard
Soften with
Swing ice cubes
Glitters with cold
Sipping by lips
Like your ****
Taste in love
Fuddled feelings
Slowly lie down
Your glance
Being an image in it
Concavely looks at
While filling up
With another ice cube
Desire reminds
Like talking your eyes
In a short time
Empty glass
Looks at me
In a moment
I stand up
And go for a cigarette.
Udaya R. Tennakoon
I glaze a look at the street, from
our apartment window.
You are coming slowly, teetering
one leg in front other, with back slightly hunched forward,
burdened with sleepless nights and yesterday’s undones.
Vibrant spirit once you had is lost, tossed among crowded
train wagons, useless meetings and broken deadlines.
One vein in the left corner of your forehead, swells, pulses in the rhythm
of your dark, fuddled thoughts as unremitting, sprouting baldness
reflects evening lights.
Still, I smile,
for you are here, with me in all this madness
we call life, half diced with wants and haunts that braid
every tomorrow we greet together.
I would like to put you in a different frame, picture of
nor “Yeses” nor “Nos”,
just us, being us, each moment celebrating
without lamenting for what “ifs” or “shoulds” and “coulds”.
Still, I smile,
as I watch you battle your restless leg syndrome,
wrestling to sooth demanding expectations,
lifted bars for higher remunerations, in constant marathon
of best comparison,
for you care, you dare.
I take your hand with eyes of approval,
life’s gigolo and gigolette,
ready to play each day’s illusive roulette.
feeling his vitamin injection a new adventure begins
a slapstick epic of unfathomable implication here unfolds
as the rat gnawed curtain rises at Ye Bone and Gristle
among the clattering of wooden pints of bitter ale
the floor show a fatigued and spent collegiate symposium
a haggard attempt at ecumenical largess aimed at
raising the unwashed to an occasional and transient grasp
of the larger dimensions that haunt our daily addictions
Prof. Zlotto emeritus deluxe brooded over his maps
summoned by the tedious self-appointed constabulary
to pry somewhat delicately into a mystifying case
of good judgment deferred with a view towards
an increase in immediate cash flow revenues
wagers placed on foul play or the whim of ill fortune
were the options undergoing fuddled prehension
we have before us opined Z expansively from center stage
an antebellumite absolutist abandoned by fortune
skirting the Queen's tariff crushed white and cold
by a bulging bale of contraband Carolina cotton
observe the eyes fully crossed the smirking grimace
while grasping a message in a mangled scrap of menu
none of the Bone and Gristle's brain trust could
tease rhyme nor reason from its random hatchings
Sumerian birdclaw temple cypher went our Professor
fragments from the time of the Great Watery Peril
the gathered lumpenproletariat gasped and murmured
Zlotto's flawless command of forgotten history
was the object of awe and an untidy fealty
my appraisal shall go no further than this room
insisted Zlotto drawing his finger across his windpipe
aye wheezed the unsteady avid archivists of civilization
the hearth's peat flames glinted off Z's gold tooth smile
a million dollar asset with the neighborhood gorgons
fluttering hearts batting about the succulent stamen
Z pondered aloud over the runes inscribed in red ichor
my certainty was never under hazard went Zlotto
what we have here beneath the lantern of exposition
is a blighted invocation of the Blind Mother of Witches
the tenured and tweedy astigmatics drew breath as one
a petition of supplication borne on ancient trade winds
Zlotto's hard gaze scanned the struck dumb congregation
It says only this
as one body the throng leans a full inch closer
only this
fill in your blanks
The smell of dark coffee brews in early morn.
Such a treat to wake up to, when I’m groggy and worn
I’m not fond of fancy frothy coffee shop brew
None of them will really do
Unless you pour a spot of Irish Cream to fire up a few.
When my girlfriend Susie would come over to stew,
I always put on a fresh pot of dark roasted coffee to brew
I have always been a softy when giving her a caring shoulder
We enjoyed the bliss of coffee and Baileys Irish Cream liqueur
to make us bolder.
Friendship with laughter is a treasure,
with a sip of spiked coffee will always do with pleasure.
When I was young, Mommy would sometimes wake up
looking like a fuddled zombie,
but
as soon as she’d have her first cup of sugary with cream coffee,
she’d be our mommy again cooking us something good for our tummies.
12/3/3021
redo 12/9/2016
''Z'' Contest, New or Old - Poetry Contest 5. zombie
Sponsored by: Constance La France
original title: WAKE UP WITH COFFEE OR TEA
The rest of my life starts now...
A checkerboard battle of custody,
evidence of fatherly love fell short
My fuddled walk now through leafless trees,
weeps, traversing corners of an empty nest
erasing black patches of white sunlight
I am learning to live without you, my dear.
In my flowerless spring,
I can hear footsteps of your childish laughter
In my sterile morning window panes,
I can see your cherubic sunny face
In my dusty colourless albums ,
I can touch your tantrums reborn
In your sizzling scent of innocence,
I can drench my sonorous silence.
Haunting words of ache from my quiet world
will perhaps never reach you
In a distant country , I see you growing up
As I grow up... learning to live without you.
30th May 2020
Sponsor JCB Burl
Contest Name A World Without You ??