Best Galumphing Poems
I know a scamp who chortles frabjously
as in the springtime galumphing he goes.
And just to show how wacky he can be,
he makes his tongue point up to touch his nose!
He has no wicked claws or eyes with flame
to match those of the manxome Jabberwock.
But just beware his jaws. Although he’s tame,
he can’t be stopped once he begins to talk!
I vouch that he can jabber endlessly
and have me at the end of my short rope.
My ears just might fall off one day, for he
gyres gibberish just like a gyroscope.
I dub my beamish grandson “Jabberwack”
for how he acts and how he loves to yak!
For Debbie Guzzi's "Go Ask Alice" Contest
Categories:
galumphing, family, funny, Grandson,
Form:
Sonnet
Oh, a mangy little doggie went galumphing down the street
And as his luck would have it he just happened there to meet
A warden with a wagon and a heavy-duty net
And he nabbed the rabid mongrel and he took him to the vet.
Categories:
galumphing, animal, dog, children, kids,
Form:
Rhyme
Timendi causa est nescire (Ignorance is the cause of fear).
– Seneca
About two thousand years ago,
when Quintilianus said it
(at least, that’s who gets the credit),
his paradigm was apropos:
the words “Vestis Virum Reddit.”
Garbed in leather, silks, and cotton,
emperors took his words to heart
(at least, they tried to look the part).
While rags for the misbegotten
kept wealth and hoi polloi apart.
Latin lessons soon forgotten
as kingdoms rose and kingdoms fell.
The rich get rich, the poor rebel
all through the Middle Ages rotten,
and the Enlightenment as well.
The New World spawned a tyrant king,
who would rule The Divided States,
fomenting fears with false dictates.
He'd boast that he knew everything,
a claim the test of time negates.
Galumphing loud he’d hit the links,
while flashing flaming orange hair,
and a most massive derriere.
His minions thought it ugly stinks,
but if he knew he didn’t care.
Sometimes he’d putt without his clothes,
few dared tell him he’s forgetful --
those who tried were soon regretful.
For it’s the truth that he most loathes,
and Media makes him fretful.
What is the measure of a man
who walks naked from his tower
while his Party members cower?
Has no patriot in his clan
the spine to speak truth to power?
When pictures in the Press were viewed,
“Fake news!” he’d claim. “This I decree.
I wear fine clothes, as you can see.”
Blame hubris? Blame ineptitude?
Let’s let the judge be history.
So, let us speak of history,
to the feckless that forget it
the words “Vestis Virum Reddit.”
Let truth be not a mystery --
give Quintilianus credit!
February 2022
"Latin Lessons" Poetry Contest sponsored by Margarita Lillico
Categories:
galumphing, history, truth,
Form:
Rhyme
Hurry not, tarry not, worry not
For life yours to live, yours to squander
If you slot the wrong plot
Swimming with a groggy gander
To plunder the best resources life offers
In the best years you enjoy
Banking and investing in companionship coffers
Bereft of joy
Too little to warrant any recognition
In social circles, spiritual spiracles
That set in motion the ignition
That with mischief dismiss pinnacles
You previously reached in style
Without nurturing a grudge
Against the guile
Galumphing in a sentiment sludge
Ranged against your move to offer an olive branch
To opponents who feel
Your attitude to consume brunch
When you muster more care than steel
To awaken feelings and ceilings
In a swathe of hope
Meant to caress and bless dealings
Summersaulting and halting the sentiment slope
From rising too steep
Erasing opportunities to hold hands
As you keep your promise to peep
Into blessing bands, lands and stands
That suggest you reconcile
With opponents who argue your kindness
Can’t file fickle feelings and domicile
Moves towards sharing and spreading for all concerned doses of deserved happiness.
Categories:
galumphing, poems,
Form:
Free verse
Teeming and brimming with green bile
Enemies of progress plot from an evil thought
The downfall from a high wall isle
Against a progress protagonist caught
Up in an intrigue driven in seas of darkness
So black they defy illumination as foes hack
Into progress folders, files and systems whose thickness
Grows weary in an eerie stack
Undermined by presumed friends
Whose intentions and machinations defy
Logic as black magic whose trends
Magnify and signify the resurgence of ill winds that typify
Doom and gloom in bloom
In a dunk triangle when a candle wick flickers
To reveal the seal and feel of failing health in a room
Where life cringes and whinges when blinkers
Conceal a view into a vista
Whose perspective on subjective propositions
Runs counter to bans imposed on a cluster
Of malevolent solvents in dubious positions
Vantage points disadvantage
The progress protagonist thwarting good plans
Promoting the motivation mote on the stage where rage
Saunters, galumphing to burn buns
In baking ovens cursed by Heaven
For indulging in occult sciences
Cursing numbers seven and eleven
Labeling them catalysts of defiant stances
Monitored and captured
At dawn to light up forests
Where the progress protagonist defends the truth featured
Prominently when wizards and witches fly on owls’ crests.
Categories:
galumphing, poems,
Form:
Free verse
He said that it was brillig, but what did that word mean
And slithy is a word that I had never seen
If you gyre and gimble, what do you really do
I guess when in the wabe, you seek the meaning too.
Lewis was a master of words that were not real
He made you fear the Jubjub, and he made you feel
Like your very being, is a door without a latch
It takes bravery to shun the frumious bandersnatch.
We attack the world of words with a vorpal sword in hand
Verses, like the Tumtum tree, sprouting in the sand
And structure with rhyming can be a manxome foe
Whiffling and burbling, the flaming words will go.
Choosing careful phrases can bring a frabjous day
And poems not dead, like borogoves, find their mimsy way
While galumphing through the tulgey lines with uffish chortled joy
It makes me through and through a whiffling beamish boy
So Lewis paints a picture with unreal words so clear
The Jabberwock seems so real and something we should fear
Poetry is the art of words, with phrasing, tales and fun
Proceed carefully, and beware the Jabberwock my son.
Categories:
galumphing, poetry, tribute, word play,
Form:
Rhyme
The Boys in The Back
By Sy Roth
The right hand turned the waters 360 degrees
Then another willful rotation
Until the bubbling chicken-fatty waters splashed over the sides
While the boys in the back did their algebraic calculations
Considering the enigma of a minus two yellow eggs
Then jouncing on the waves of her stirring.
An arthritic chicken leg made its way to the surface
Its death-claw clawing at the chunks of flesh swirling amid a flotilla of vegetables
And with it redolent steam captures the air of the kitchen in its garlic thrall.
She continued the rotation in the silence of the eddying water
Resting for brief moments in the minutes of her remembrance
Embracing the time when food was ersatz
And the act of eating became a chore.
She held the dreams of her survival in that ladle
A galumphing oar in her packed chicken soup—
Shabbos wonderment to stir away the remembrances of things past
While we played behind her back with imaginary numbers.
Her front, a no-access vestibule
A sodden wall of sorrow against a world
Where we did our algebra and plumbed the secrets of numbers
Away from her horrors.
No words—
A simple sometimes brief shake of her hair
To bring her back to reality.
No left,
No right.
No judgment
Just the temporary aroma of living
With her sons scratching their numbers in the background
Thumping the depth of calculating incalculable numbers.
Categories:
galumphing, africa, dark, death, dream,
Form:
Free verse
Written: January 26, 2025
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the pale autumn sun,
a radiant shimmer thrives,
A solitary strand,
a seascape draped in misty gray.
The sand speaks of endless days,
Where waves roll unfazed
by the arrival of winter’s chill.
I trudge through remnants
of slithering worms stripped of flesh,
Barely finding magic
in the comforting shade.
Galumphing creatures
in the glade,
While rainbows blend
on nature's fresh palette.
From dreams,
we drift to hammock swings,
Crisp leaves whisper
tales of desolation streaks.
Bleeding wrists find bleak solace,
Glistening dew on
the tumbling decline beckons.
A chasm stretches wide,
where sharp truths pierce,
the careless stumble of losing
grip on the damp ground.
Echoes of forever
cram the night air,
juggling stormy clouds
with an enveloping shroud.
Wandering among orchids
mimics twilight’s flame,
as paths are carved, straddling
the colossal vastness of darkness
Buzzing, zooming, whispers aside,
and candles illuminate life’s
esoteric game.
Singing goldfinches chirp
from their yellow celandine perch.
Purple crocuses shimmer
beneath the magenta sky.
Riddles dance
upon the sapphire sea tides.
Categories:
galumphing, analogy, autumn, feelings,
Form:
Free verse
Gangly ghosts galumphing in our lives
Gamble
With outstretched knives and chives
Fumble and mumble
Encouraging us crates of lager to quaff and drink
Tomes of *********** for our eyes to dabble
Contaminated thoughts for us to think and slink
Trouble and rabble to double in the stable
Life we feed, mislead, lead and weed
As mistakes upon mistakes we apply, satisfy, supply and multiply
In our Creed
We modify and codify
Our liver cooking in an overdose of alcohol
Our lung choking and dying with nicotine
Our wellness and health we overhaul and stall
As debauchery and dissipation we redefine in a can of worms dustbin
In our lifestyle given to extravagance and waste
Dwindle, dwindle and dwindle
Devouring vats of sin in a haste
As the quality and standard of sane life gangly ghosts from us swindle.
Categories:
galumphing, poems,
Form:
Free verse
Prejudice and malice
Both besotted beggars
Gamboling, galumphing, griping and gripping a solstice
In limpid lives whose tigers and daggers
Stagger, simulate and strut along
Craven
Oblong, wrong on a song gong
Sloven and driven
Unexpectedly pop up in interpersonal interactions
Writhing like serpents
Wreaking heady havoc in their insurrections
Contents, events, proponents and deponents
To defy, modify and stupefy logic
Contemplate disunity
In a rogue republic
Whose unity
The besotted beggars bring down
Tearing one member from another
Assuming every crown
Becomes anathema as Jack and Jill like each other
To the detriment
Discord prejudice and malice promote and quote
In every contrary condiment
Ever taught or caught.
Categories:
galumphing, poems,
Form:
Free verse
Infinite bottomless
Infinite limitless
Limitless stamina
Limitless energy
Energy overload
Energy burdening
Burdening burgeoning
Burdening flourishing
Flourishing enterprise
Flourishing company
Company safeguarding
Company sheltering
Sheltering enemies
Sheltering predators
Predators sauntering
Predators wandering
Wandering aimlessly
Wandering mindlessly
Mindlessly faltering
Mindlessly fidgeting
Fidgeting nervously
Fidgeting worriedly
Worriedly galumphing
Worriedly galloping
Galloping anxiously
Galloping fruitlessly
Fruitlessly gathering
Fruitlessly harvesting
Harvesting wastefully
Harvesting foolishly
Foolishly challenging
Foolishly strenuous
Strenuous exercise
Strenuous practicing
Practicing stringency
Practicing discipline
Discipline lineage
Discipline progeny
Progeny fornicate
Progeny procreate
Procreate thoughtlessly
Procreate heartlessly
Heartlessly sickening
Heartlessly hideous
Hideous ordering
Hideous sequencing
Sequencing endlessly
Sequencing infinite
Endlessly…
Infinite…
----------
I think this may officially be a Whirtle McBlitz :-)
Categories:
galumphing, nonsense, repetition,
Form:
Blitz
In my childhood
they
impressed on me
not to galumph,
lest I be typed
in stereo
as my eternal twin,
and yet,
somehow it pleases me
to see that you
are now
constrained to know
that I will go
galumphing off
into the nevermore.
~
Categories:
galumphing, nature,
Form:
Free verse
Do you gurgle, grunt, and gripe,
grind the soft bones of thought dry?
You need some orchestration,
some instrumental tuning.
Play with those ad hoc glottalized vibes,
harmonize.
The body, that geomungos collection
of agrarian earth animalcules
which work for themselves alone,
tilling mud, repairing dykes
& ditches,
that biological chain gang
that works on robotically
within a symbiotic conglomerate
others have put a name to,
that commune of the blind
it needs to be honored for its industry.
It is your manikin self – wind it up with
new tunes.
It has to be warbled to,
bill & coo some
as if it were a real child.
it needs lullabies and ballads,
calm it with gentle glissandos.
Be not crotchety.
Even if your own voice
is an amphibian nightmare
that growls off key,
sing soto voce -
be a body whisperer.
You may still
grapple occasionally
with those galumphing
gargoyles of your flesh,
but love will be in you
like a soft pretzel,
you will be tasty and salty,
not sad and sickly.
Your tide will turn,
your shore will be giddy
with the sounding of your songs,
the swirling pipes of your soul.
Your comforted body will purr
upon the lap of sleep
like a well-nourished tabby cat
or squeak not
like well-oiled piano stool.
Categories:
galumphing, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
Don’t denounce me when I weep
Soaking blows right, left and centre
From angled arrows that keep
Galumphing near my fort vying to enter
The crib the moon loathes
Which the venom sunshine can’t sear
While sadness bothers
To rain pain and fear with the clear
Motive to abuse my space and stretch the surface
On which horror refuses to die or lie
As it rears its Dracula face
To feed my parched mouth the poisoned pie
I strive to expel
While ebbing strength and determination
Cry to exhale
As intimation of incriminating information
Smears my spine with the ice
Whose temperature challenges the lowest Kelvin
While each slice of its frozen price rolls a die that doesn’t suffice
When far from fruition floats Melvin
To ask me why I cry
Grown and gone alone as I am
Although rows and crows of sorrows multiply
Cursing the slum
That moulded the character I hold
In my person
As life travails succor withhold
To teach me the lesson
Life feels I deserve
For excelling at school
At the forefront of the erudition preserve
Life feels makes me a flamboyant fool.
Categories:
galumphing, addiction,
Form:
Free verse
Nudnick
By Sy Roth
Self, I say
Self,
Wake up.
Your ganglions
Are asleep again.
Wakey, wakey…
Those around you, nudnick,
Are whirling dervishes
Those who come and go
In the Speakeasys of their lives
And I am a silent partner.
Wake up dammit
It’s slipping away
You’re letting it slip away
While the humped dowagers
Prepare their casseroles
For the hungry men who’ve passed.
See in their eyes
Your sadness, Nudnick,
Where’s the fun in your voyage
Careless self
Elf of the bygones,
Shelf where the platitudes lay
Dusty
Fusty hungry dinks waiting
For their revival
Wrapped in their silent home
Domicile of mordant cells
For the somnambulist to walk echoey corridors.
Awaken before it is too late
Or perhaps it is.
The monster is caught galumphing to Bedlam
And the nudnick sits on the side of the road
Waiting for him to pass
Like a hundred-car freight train crossing.
Wake, I hear it in my ear!
Wake the nudnik from its dream
The train is a never-ending circus cavalcade,
And he yawns as it passes by.
They all yawn as he passes by.
I yawn for myself
Yearning to avoid the parade
As my eyes close and sleep invades my reality.
Categories:
galumphing, courage,
Form:
Free verse