Best Higgledy Piggledy Poems
I've a bit of a problem here...
in a higgledy-piggledy pickle
torn between housewifery
and creative muses fickle.
Scattered, shattered fragments
of odd ideas, dreams
lay about my den, disguised
not nearly what they seem!
Bits of whimsy, what-nots
all cluttering my desk
covered in thick pixie dust
my housekeeping grotesque.
Higgledy-piggledy hodgepodge
my convoluted mess
a sign of utter genius
(or else mental distress).
I'd planned to tidy up...
to toss a few things out
but as I gaze upon them
they sniffle, weep and pout.
To think that I'd discard them!
Those former hopes and whims
unborn poems, paintings
their destiny quite grim.
Delicately backing out-
I apologize with care
as they cold-shoulder, look away
with such dramatic flair!
And when my husband asks me
just what I've done all day
I simply shrug “not much”
not knowing what to say.
How could I ever mention
the lurking living things
inside my head, upon my desk
that gently pull my strings?
The odd creative forces
that captivate me thus
wildly penning amid my piles
while he remains nonplussed!
It stood on the top of the hill
dominating all of its surrounds.
Its drawbridge these days lay open
spanning with ease the now dry moat.
Like a fairy tale fortress it had turrets
that soared up high brushing the clouds.
Its four towers majestic as blankly,
they stared, covering all points of the compass.
Slit windows peered out of casements
through walls up to six feet thick.
The massive double oak doors
fifteen feet high and twelve wide
stood thrown open allowing glimpses
of the enormous courtyard beyond.
Battlements led to each round tower
that once housed the nobles.
Old battered forgotten furniture
grandly carved four poster beds.
A sword or two lay scattered
amidst the clutter and bird dropping.
Wide stone staircases meandered
curling round and round the walls.
A gallery or two dotted here and there
perfect hiding places above the hall.
Some for musicians to play unseen
Their notes floating through the air
as below the dancers swept and strutted
as the ladies hooped dresses swirled.
Long tables once laden with food
stood a skiff with broken legs.
Wooden pint tankards higgledy piggledy
strewn about midst wooden platters.
Tattered standards limply lay motionless
against walls dotted with scattered torches.
The Lord of these lands killed in distant lands
leaving an infant son removed to the city
by his grieving mother who sought to forget.
Now ninety years later his grandson views
the devastation of years of neglect and vows
to return the castle to the glory of its heydays.
After three long years of often brutal work
removing shrubbery, moss and decay
Life starts to re-emerge Flags flutter
gaily high up on the battlements.
Chandeliers sparkle and the torches flicker
Tables once more groan with a feast of food
Happy shrieks of laughter fill the grand hall
And one would swear the castle wore a smile,
as children played around the buttress's.
Higgledy-Piggledy,
Young Dr. Frankenstein.
thought he was able to
cook up a man.
baking and broiling and
incomprehensible
things to invent such a
Frankenstein plan.
Higgledy Piggledy
William Wordseeker
pins on the wall
all the words he has found.
He likes to say that his
lexicographical
treasure are now
erinaceously bound.
For the background of this rhyme:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4VzuWmN8zY
Higgledy-piggledy
Newt Gingrich
So loved his country
He betrayed his wife.
Whilst berating Bill Clinton
Incontrovertibly.
His run for presidency
Now full of strife.
I.
Higgledy piggledy
Roger de Coverley
Fonder of hoofing it
Than of romance
Found himself typified
Characteristically
King of the Reels and the
Lord of the Dance.
II.
Willety wallety
William the Conqueror
Wanted his subjects to
Quail at his power,
Crowing to Londoners
Hyperdespotically,
“Look, everybody, I’ve
Built me a tower!”
III.
Rickety tickety
Wolfram von Eschenbach
Sought for a subject to
Fashion a tale;
Tiring of writing so
Eschatologically,
Rather, he turned to the
Quest of the Grail.
NB. The nonsense opening of a Double Dactyl was originally, and is still most frequently, "higgledy-piggledy", but it can be any alliterative pair of dactyls. Here, the opening of the second is from the adapted version of the Scots folksong "Wee Cooper o' Fife" in the schoolhouse sequence of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds-- though some postings online mishear it as "willaby wallaby" or "willicky wallicky". The nonsense opening of the third is from Tom Lehrer's "The Irish Ballad".
I have been made mad before
With my clothes on my hands
Shabbily treated by children in the street.
My hair shaggy and rough.
YOu could see me going through the hoote-nanny
Smiling to every one that comes
on my way in a mischievous manner.
Then they sang the lost song of missing instrument and Bongo
And i dance stupidly in an open field crowded with fools.
They watched my buttock going higgledy-piggledy with no questions
I flagged off my clothes and let them see my bare chest
Swirling and twisting its Skin.
I have tolled every night and day upon the ugly mountains
With my back welcoming the dust of the ground in agony.
I have been pushed to the lunatic asylum because they thought
I was mad but your love made me drunk and insane.
Lyrically, my songs boomed and welcomed thousand children
Home to celebrate your bravery yet you seems not to
admit my effort as i sustain lumbago which made me lumbering.
I have embarked an arduous journey on the south west to obtain the
Roses and egg of life made for you in the land of the spirit
Because the priest confirmed you to be Ogbanje.
I have worked in the zoo, worked in the oceans, fought
the masked spirit and won for your sake.
Worked in the farm land where the monkeys mocked me
With their ugly black teeth abusing my personality.
I made the ridges with your names written boldly on it
To remind the birds and wild creature that it is
Untreadable land for a pretty damsel.
I have pronounce your names millions time with the parrots
Taught the toddler how top read your names on books.
I have become a hooligan and hoon all because of your love.
I have worked in the vineyard of the king as his servant,
Many maiden clutched to me and laid down their humble
Lives for my soul rescue but i denied them all of love.
Millions tears have i drooped for your sake,
Rebel against my flesh and blood all because i love you.
I am bound to your body by ardour love,
Love me so that every thing would be hunky dory.
GOODLUCK
Gutless muffled monarch wooed millions to the poll,
Our feeble lord enforced by pathetic speech of poverty (I once had no shoes)
On congruent grounds of pain we forced him, though we hated his coterie.
Disappointed, we wail waiting surrogate to lead to unending journey of relief
Lackluster, jejune as pervading rot lingers
Unvaried captain rocks our boat, gagged around by plunderers.
Circles of death, twinge, pauperdom and miseries mocks the reign of naivety.
Kleptocrat adorn self in regalia, loved the honor. lacks duty
EBELE
Embezzlers of collective trust bequeathed in hope,
Bandits as conniving ministers besmirched our obtuse scamp
Egregious, craven, shrieked at the sound of war (I am not a lion)
Laggard lumper loon left fanatical murderers at our doorsteps
Encumbrances from his delinquent clan divide the love for mother land
DAME
Damp squib's duchess of indecent tongue, never feels a vestige of restraint
Academic 'double misnomer' with licence to libel,
Merriment and intrigue feigned as obligations,
Edgy. encumbrance though ceaselessness forms their amity.
PATIENCE
Punk pretending and purloining to private vaults
Adventurous nerve for futile globe trot
Twitchy at the affairs of state, though Unemployed by sensible Poll
Intoxicated by serendipity, shaming all with activity
Euphemistic drama Usurps Scrappy literacy on cultured observers
Crude verbiages to amuse myriad of eggheads (my Fellow widows)
Encomium of Yesterday's approval turned sour and Tsar inept mode prevails
Jokers jostled in enthusiasm to rule, (politicking for 2015)
Onslaught from 'Boko-Haram' drove sleep from wearied countrymen
Numbed as "hoipolloi" echoed NO to mistimed removal,
Alas, the fraud, rapscallion looted the poor to a blindfold
Tyrannic cloaked his garb in power busted on the streets with the troop
Higgledy-piggledy bugled the travesty of Democracy
Amidst the rubble of a crumbling amalgam
Nigerian Lords watched the drama secured among a troop we die helpless
Higgledy-Piggledy
Forty-fifth president
Some think him marvelous;
Others a jerk.
Chasm political
Breached by consensus, his
Cosmetological
Routine needs work.
Wind Swept Beauty.
.
Upon hilly brackish tor
Of a wild inhospitable
Windswept ambling moor
Woolly sheep chew cud and bleat
In the shadow of the over looking
Rugged towering sister mountains
.
A sprawling sweeping land
Of tawny browns and greens
And carpets of purple heather
Laid by God’s hand in between
.
Linier lecithin blotched
Higgledy piggledy drystone walls
Boundary lines
Thickets of bracken
Woody copper copse
With steeple wind battered tree tops
.
Silver ribboned stream and brooks
Snaking through the rugged land
Gushing rushing over
Stone pebble and boulder
Sparkling cold clear and clean
Lazy pouting gasping trout
Suddenly turn and try to kiss the sky
As a flock of flapping crows
With raucous calls pass by
.
A harsh unforgiving land
Weather beaten unrefined
Rugged beauty upon sodden earth
On which it defiantly stands
Under temperamental moody
Ominous varied darkened sky’s
Capturing many a heart
And pleasing the eye.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
Democracy!
A name which has suffered ignominy
A sound which has become ignoble
A song which can only be hummed.
Its hotchpotch has gone through hypothesis
And its effective cause of hostilities.
Democracy!
Turned to a hopscotch
Its teaching now in heresy with people's ideas
Its flaws becoming hobby-horse in hogmanay
Higgledy-piggledy it becomes in the city,
'Cos its heyday is gone.
Democrazy it is in the hands of exponents
Like a shy with its helmsmen.
Democracy!
A noble man with no esteem
Principle with no privileges for all
Exciting story with a sad denouement
A deodorant full of irritation
Beauty, but ephemeral.
I knew the day we met that we were meant to be
I realized our destiny was set and she was the one for me
She was rich in beauty but poor for she will die with it
Her appearance nonplussed me and I couldn't hold the steerage of my course anymore
She is the one I consented to have on my slender thighs
At that point her pearly lips gave appointments to mine
This lady killed me and roasted my carcass
Leaving the scavangers performing the post-moterm
I walked tall in the genesis of our affair
Now I'm wrecked….
Higgledy-piggledy daughter of a lesser god!
Today, deluged with anger I regret
The day I met this devil incarnate;the mastermind behind the bleeding of my heart
She tattooed my heart with wounds;I no longer have a clean heart
Her friends and her drunk the gushing blood of my wounded heart
That night my heart contorted into painful lumps
But I had to forgive the being that created her and put her in my world
Bitter are my words,she is a nonsense with no sense at all
Daughter of Jezebel-show up on the day I get laid to rest;lower me to the ground,let me down like you always have-stupid creature!Nkt!
John Lenda (Poetic World,2022)
Higgledy Piggledy,
My fat hen,
She lays eggs
Full of Collagen
Good for women,
And good for men,
Higgledy Piggledy,
My fat hen!
timing is everything
pretty much anytime
anyhow anyplace
morning noon or evening
whatever the birth date
no matter the season
or how tight the G-string
victuals and drink
the chiefs of a good diet
this old woman could not be quiet
she wiped her clammy hands
on a mellow yellow chiffon dress
Circa 1959
timing is overdressed
always never again
maybe sometimes never thrice
the aging colors
of dusty dreams
invite us to frolic
but only briefly
now that it's technical
there are no more heroes
this old lady only waved
when she was yawning
where had her archives gone
into a lifetime of sea
timing is to blame
cooks faster than bacon
doesn't stop and carries a knife
hour after hour reaches out
blinds us to see
takes us half the way there
days tripping over rock stars
nothing is by accident
in adjoining rooms
that old lady never listened
had many years of unread messages
lost the keys to the Jeep
waited for the next available rep
timing held its breath
up-to-the-minute
it was no small matter
prior days posted
atop one another
stealing sunshine
never recoiling
yesterday at sundown
she crashed the ATV
this old lady lived to skål
joy rides at the speed of sound
backward and past the contrasts
always in a leopard pill-box hat
timing had meant everything
still in response to yesterday
it was no grand prize
a gray higgledy-piggledy shrub
below the tidal noise
standing in the doorway with poise
blocking the Entrance
that's what ^tiempo_ was
cowbells and castagnettes
this old lady kicked it
in an instant such as this
cursed by seasons of glare
life kissed her feet in recompense
timing and it's belongings
had paced past and present
and lasted but a moment
in the vestibule by the portal
there is a possessed clock
it stages lifetime shifts
every step you take up or down the staircase
days weeks months years decades
a life-span of keeping your eyes on it
Higgledy Piggledy
**********
Higgledy piggledy, look out, duck!
My friend Tommy is throwing muck.
Miss Maisy shouted, "Stop right now"!
Stopped, he did, can't move, no how.
Some think Miss Maisy is a Witch
For when shouting her cane doth twitch
But it is not really true, no not at all
Come hometime, she shouts "Love you all"!
*************************
01/30/18
Entered in Write a funny Poem for a 7-year-old, sponsored by Kevin Straw