Best Haphazardly Poems
A Fantasy
There was I, forgotten in the attic.
Mannequin discarded, ready for demolition.
Cracks everywhere with some rags thrown on
Haphazardly over me like a scarecrow.
Suddenly all lights went out, an outage.
Immediately the generators went off but failed.
In the attic, the air went into a trembling atmosphere
Thunder boomed and lightning filled the room.
An electrical power surge lit everywhere.
Suddenly I felt alive and began to walk, rags and all.
There were other mannequins, so completely ruined,
Some in good shape. But one caught my attention
As she walked towards me. The static turned into music.
May the last waltz last forever. I took her in my embrace,
The dance began, not a word was spoken just gestures.
Mentally I counted one, two. three, around the attic.
Occasionally I twirled her around on her toes,
Suddenly the lights went on and we all went back
To where we were initially, rags and all.
Some people came to inspect the attic and said:
We must get rid of these mannequins once and for all.
Categories:
haphazardly, dance, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse
Horrid, horrid thought;
Tiny Mother reaching forth,
Reaching always to enfold,
And in enfolding just to hold.
Crying from want…and need;
Crying from loss and deed.
What to do? What to do?
I am me, and I am you?
Looking for a glint of power.
Searching, searching, hour by hour;
Love…caring…heedless heart;
No Mother were you from the start.
Crying from want…and need;
Crying from loss and deed.
What to do? What to do?
I am me and I am you?
Broken waif, soul chafed;
Battered daughter, mother’s pride;
All that’s beautiful she must hide.
All that’s soft, all that’s warm, half formed.
Crying from want…and need;
Crying from loss and undone deed.
What can I do? What can YOU do?
I am me, and you are you?
Crushed like flower pedals in a fist,
Flung haphazardly in the mist.
Nasty, sour, bitter lost;
She was forced. We are forced.
Is all lost?
Date 10/12/2008
Categories:
haphazardly, confusionloss, loss, mother,
Form:
Rhyme
The soft breeze whispered in a barely heard whiff.
Emptiness enveloped the lovely old park
Past life has been hard and now all are dead stiff.
Hot tears rolled down my cheeks as day became dark.
Emptiness enveloped the lovely old park
All six played around the opposing benches
Hot tears rolled down my cheeks as day became dark.
Young girls dreamed of becoming famous wenches
All six played around the opposing benches
Memories tumbled haphazardly in mind.
Young girls dreamed of becoming famous wenches
Knew instinctively we were loving and kind
Memories tumbled haphazardly in mind.
Not easy to forget those difficult years
Knew instinctively we were loving and kind
Recall all we said echoing in my ears
Not easy to forget those difficult years
Life had its plans for us as each departed
Recall all we said echoing in my ears
The lonely park we became broken-hearted
Life had its plans for us as each departed
Past life has been hard and now all are dead stiff.
The lonely park we became broken-hearted
The soft breeze whispered in a barely heard whiff.
FICTION
Categories:
haphazardly, nostalgia,
Form:
Pantoum
~~~
My old homeplace was left to deteriorate
A shambles of disarray showing it’s elderly state
Porch and door gray and weary from the years
Of wind and storm flailing their bitter beams
Ferns grow haphazardly along the garden edge
Whispers of disrepair shadowing the staircase
Making everything appear dismal and worn
Humbled house that was once my lovely home
Vines cling to the roof and I see a rosette smiling
Softly forming the illusion of charm along the gray
Dingy boards that were once painted with a joy
That filled up the site with pretty pictures of hope
Melancholy broods as I peep through a window
Losing my composure amid the apathy of chaos
That was once my dream come true, my heart
Singing songs of inspiration that has changed to
Verses of disorder and dismay due to the decay
Of this once happy place where I was raised
~~~
Decaying House Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
July 14, 2020
Categories:
haphazardly, confusion, dark, home,
Form:
Free verse
I heard it said once
That attractive to an artist
Does not mean "pretty"
In the average sense
But more something that
Is interesting to look at
And makes you want to
Keep looking
To him, I can look for hours
And want to keep looking
He is the color burnt umber
Like coffee and cream
And purest black ink
Not blue-black, or brown,
But the undiluted purity
Of a spilled ink-pot
Shaped by the delicate curve
Of a calligraphy brush
Into perfectly, haphazardly
Beautiful curls, erratic and
Bold
And his eyes
Those eyes
Like coffee, taken
Without cream or sugar
But turned amber by sunlight
And sweetened by laughter
Making what might have been
Intimidating, with their darkly
Charcoaled outline that
Marks them as Arab
Instead as sweetly inviting
As the warm half-light of dusk
And so addictive
I've been looking for hours
And I want to keep looking
Categories:
haphazardly, arabic, art, beauty, color,
Form:
Free verse
In an open field of endless, noiseless distance,
Rolling clouds cast an impending gloom;
A welcomed and promised darkness descends.
My eyes shut as I breathe in the aroma,
In anticipation of
The cleansing that quickly approaches.
I cloak myself in the breeze, as it promises a release..
The cool wind, calming, so gently serene...
Sweeping over my overheated skin.
Finally, the fury is perfectly unleashed down upon me.
The winds, gusting in a frenzied rush
My hair whipping haphazardly around,
Stinging at my face.
I smirk toward the sky, as I silently, but eagerly
Await the onslaught -
This desperate release that I longed for in secret.
It sought me out, and found me.
I hear the angry sounds
The roaring, begging to weep alongside me.
When suddenly, the violent tears begin to fall
With a sudden, breathtaking destructiveness.
The thunder, like me, cries out in pain,
With such sadness, angry liquid bathing the parched earth.
It saturates my face, my body drenched.
As I stand in the midst of the deluge, in awe,
Crashing winds attempt to destroy me,
But cannot find the strength.
Until the tears eventually run dry,
The painful clashes and cries become silent..
The skies yield to light, as the great and
Terrible sun demands to be seen.
I open my tear-stained eyes,
And glimpse a different world before me...
Cleansed and made new.
And I cannot understand, nor
Fathom the reality...
Of the beautifully, perfect
Broken release.
Categories:
haphazardly, feelings, metaphor, peace, rain,
Form:
Free verse
I am a rock; earth, air, fire and water;
a child of the elements.
I grow and erode;
my greatest strength is stillness;
my voice, the silence.
I am a tree, a child of the elements.
I grow and decay;
shedding leaves and bark.
My voice is a whisper;
my strength is the stillness;
though I bow to the winds.
Immobile am I; a conundrum of nature.
I am a mountain; a child of the elements.
I grow and erode, by layers.
my strength is the stillness;
My purpose is a home for rock, tree and beast.
I am a human, a child of the elements.
I grow and decay like everything else.
My voice is a gift;
my strength is the still silence,
where I rarely go.
Haphazardly, I run amok;
relying too much on things I create,
instead of my silent strength.
My greed crushes the rocks;
destroys the trees;.
My ego dynamites the mountains;
poisons the water and air.
Because of me, the earth and her children, suffer.
Wallowing in my greed and ignorance;
my siblings of the elements, are dispensable.
I am a human, a child of the elements.
I destroy because I ignore,
the still silence; my strength.
Categories:
haphazardly, earth, earth day, nature,
Form:
Prose
Haphazardly,
Infinity and affinity mingled,
In an asymmetry imbalance.
A dishevelled universe,
Grew and shrank as fire devoured,
Yet ice sustained.
Outrages currents swirled,
Straightened, dispersed, and garnered,
Dissipated into nothing,
Only to surge again and again and again.
Until a soft soothing spirit unfurled itself,
Protracting into every nook,
Fire and ice detached their selves
Into their proper assumed place,
Light and darkness found their proper place.
How harmonious was creation now!
Categories:
haphazardly, creation,
Form:
Free verse
The storm has blown itself away; there is a lighting of the sky.
The monstrous waves start to recede, and the ripples just pass on by.
The rocks find a new home from the pounding they have been given.
They come to rest haphazardly, as though so hard they have been driven.
The fence looks old, all gnarled and bent, a pathway almost hidden.
The footsteps - where have they come from - and to where are they now bidden?
An eerie cry - a sobbing sound - mixes harmoniously.
With the sound of seagulls squawking, now setting off back to sea.
The lights are lighting, one at a time, pinpricks of ghostly yellow.
The sobbing increases just slightly; a voice so soft and mellow.
‘Come follow me, a prize awaits,' it sings out on the breeze.
I find myself following it, my heart it seems to please.
I have never felt so fresh, my heart it seems to float.
I follow the pathway in the near dark; my being fills with hope.
What is it, that is calling me? Is sounds so sweet and near.
I stumble and realise I am soaked, but I am without any fear.
‘You are mine,’ says the voice so gentle and caressing.
The light seems to grow brighter, I feel an urgent need pressing.
I must find the source of this golden voice; its song fills my head.
I must press on the winding path before me, I feel I am being lead.
A shape that glows and points at me and opens its glowing arms wide.
I stop as fear overtakes me; I want to turn back, like the tide.
And then the shape embraces me, calms me and points behind.
There I am lying on the beach; am I now losing my mind?
‘Your journey is just starting,’ the voice tells me. ‘Come, we can not be late.’
“Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or a secret gate.”
Realisation comes to me as the shape pushes me onwards up the winding hill.
My earthly body I have left behind, but my adventure is in front of me still.
Categories:
haphazardly, fantasy, me, heart, sound,
Form:
Light Verse
i've chased dragons of destruction ever since i was conceived
perversion skewed my thoughts and turned the pure into obscene
the clean was made quite dirty and the good was made quite bad
while laughter was around me still the happy turned to sad
fear it filled my broken heart and hate came to the rescue
iniquity out of innocence...i rose like hannibal lector
haphazardly put together thin sticks turned into steel...a rabbits mind turned ravenous soon blood would have to spill
my heart got pierced with arrows...made of flesh now turned to stone
with wrath and vengeance in my soul i had to walk alone
way down in the valley this predator stalked its prey...while looking deep into their eyes they knew it was their final day
demons stayed behind me...i could hear their taunts and laughs
while i was chasing dragons destruction was my path
dragons of delusion and dragons of disease...the dragons of addiction were caught too easily
the hunter was the hunted and the master was the slave
i don't chase destructive dragons cause they're really chasing me
anthony_beesley@yahoo.com
Categories:
haphazardly, depressionheart, heart,
Form:
Rhyme
Hanging to his dwindling sanity
he haphazardly weaves a net
of confused and conflicting emotions.
Weakened by pangs of futility
the strained fine thread snaps...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Contest: Minimalist Form
(5 unrhymed lines each with 5 words)
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Placed 2nd
© 14th October 2017
Categories:
haphazardly, conflict, depression,
Form:
Free verse
The carcass of beauty spent and done
picked clean by the scavengers of time;
whose fading memories of summer
ask for no quarter and offer none.
Winter winds tango with scattered leaves
in step with a different drummer;
spinning fragments of color and light
into chromatic threads, Autumn weaves.
A scarecrow showing signs of neglect,
looks outlandish, with no crops in sight;
a hobo haphazardly homespun,
on guard, with naught but mud to protect.
When fledgling goslings learn how to fly,
geese follow the monarch butterfly;
and flock south, their honks splitting the sky,
bidding Summer's withered bloom goodbye.
Categories:
haphazardly, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
Her language drips with intelligence
The slow drizzle of innuendos
and proclamations from which
she speaks is like witnessing
stalagmites and stalagtites
finally touching as if
each syllable was measured
by a drip
so edifying
And it's not just what she says
but how her lips catch the light
of a candle glow
and how the corners of her mouth
dance with her dimples,
her essence is edible
quite incomprehensible
how one can starve
by tasting it
I love every morsel,
every crumb that falls haphazardly,
to the floor, jealous of the way,
her tongue can be so judgemental,
inviting then inciting, enveloping
making me wish I had
lettered in spiritual dynamics.
I would have been a star
without ever touching a ball.
Her hello, and me running a million miles
in my mind trying to think of some other word
that rhymes with this title
other than bed...
I am fed
Categories:
haphazardly, language,
Form:
Free verse
from north to East-west
a journey without substance
haphazardly
Categories:
haphazardly, confusion,
Form:
Senryu
She rode unsaddled on the mighty horse.
Her hazel hair flew haphazardly and coarse.
They crossed the rippling river, laughing with flair.
They rode to the ranch, her husband waited there.
Yet she needed his love and climbed quickly upstairs.
Placed 2
Categories:
haphazardly, animal, beauty, horse, romantic,
Form:
Rhyme