Best Ill Defined Poems
Blink if the title drew your eyes in
See, the breadth of our human functionality
Sparks interest
Curiosity
Thankfully, no evil kitty cats were killed because of it.
But, humanity continues its descent.
We live in a world of blasphemous sacrifices
Judgmental stares
And vicarious living
A world where identities are being kidnapped
Assaulted
By ill-defined pronouns and verbs from
Blogger’s egotistical delight
Yet, we crave to be free & think for ourselves.
We used to live in a world where “boys” never expressed their emotions
Yet, today, they are criticized for mansplaining
But, beg us to be a dictator in the sheets
Oh, the lust of hypocrisy’s tongue knows
No bounds
Pre-emptive screams, the only “logical” sound
As critical loudmouths burn off pounds
Of social media dislikes
While they stare at their obese internal sadness
…
We live in a world
Where love is defined by what humanity’s online profile
Shows on their Relationship Status
Not the private memories
Not the personal moments
The less we share online, the less we care offline!
Everybody wants to know about everybody else
In order to forget about themselves
Insecurities abound,
Another red herring in their chilled soup
They dance with spoonfuls of illegitimate intimacy
Spinning their self-declarations round robin
But, refuse to dip into change
We used to live in a world
Where it was a penny for their thoughts
Now it costs a life when the mind is spoken
So, I think to myself…
©D.J.E.
Categories:
ill defined, life, people, perspective,
Form:
Free verse
Your lover’s drawing straws without you, better bid farewell;
he’d never time for rhyme or reason, so it’s just as well.
Slip out the curtained window quick, the future winks and calls,
ignoring paths of pagan gods, where faulty footsteps fall.
Identify faint flashbacks, cloaked and clustered in a heap
and sort out those you treasure most, you need or long to keep;
Forget about the epoch past, which wasn’t what you’d sought,
pursue instead remaining dreams before they come to naught.
Reflect no more on what it was he’d meant for you,
strike out ahead where something waits, has sent for you.
The graveyard night is haunted still, it hovers where you sleep
recalling souvenirs amassed, the ones that made you weep.
The poets poised in dungeon vaults, now growing old and bald,
retrace their palsied pleas in dust, like those that you once scrawled.
Except for runic proverbs carved on stone walls ill defined,
assumptions will not dog you that you dare to leave behind.
The fortune-tellers waiting at the moat for you
read tarot cards while setting sail a boat for you.
The road behind is empty now, the sky is painted black
so gather all the wisdom gained, no time for looking back.
Forego the prophets’ prophecies, so tempting to pursue -
although they might be asked advice, they seldom have a clue.
Reject the secrets they reveal, enveloped in their guile,
which be betrayed between the tombs in ruins of their smile.
They’re waiting with a fractured rule of thumb for you
while beating on a perforated drum for you.
A sand-glass dribbles distant dunes, the sun dial’s shadow’s late,
so now’s the time for slipping through the open swinging gate.
A joker wild defies the fools to read between the lines
in search of cryptic radiance the future world enshrines -
“the days ahead will wake again like waves before the dawn
when picking up the pieces left behind a passing pawn.”
A noble knight awaits to clear the board for you
when, soon, a cup of nectar wine is poured for you.
Categories:
ill defined, destiny, fate,
Form:
Rhyme
Waft borderless borders;
within;
The dividing line that separates the free
and the slaves;
where strangers come and go
but the cage is never lifted.
Where sticks and stones travel farther,
and idle remains your soul possession;
pocketed,
dispossessed
and disenfranchised.
Standing frozen in the temporal sea,
while global earth spins yonder;
giving birth to a global movement;
devoid of you,
where the shining guards of globalism obstruct your path
and the cage is never lifted.
apartheid in an open prison,
borders without a border,
where freedom is ill defined
and internal struggle
links the spider web without a spider to keep it.
Categories:
ill defined, life, people, philosophy, places,
Form:
True Companions
There’s a finite place
in a life’s ill-defined time,
an Alice-like membrane,
if you will, when
at the instant
of passing through,
presence and absence
co-exist, life and death
are true companions.
I know a thing or two
about this side,
the presence from which
I write of
love and pain,
uncertainty,
insanity,
birthday cake with ice cream,
childhood memories,
bullies,
the touch of my lover.
My-knowing isn’t
all-knowing, of course.
Lives cross and diverge,
only to meet again at
that instant of passing-through,
bringing into question,
what’s on the other side?
Go ask Alice.
I think she’ll know.
Categories:
ill defined, death, life,
Form:
Free verse
Imagine me as a book covered with dust,
A soul whose warmth for years remained untouched
Letters on every page were ill-defined, unclear
The essence was hidden in an ambiguous fear
Uninterested I was in the societal rigmarole,
Me and my outer self were at opposite poles
Quite hesitant I was to turn to the next page
As I knew it would amount only to stormy rage
Quite concerned I was for my future pages and me,
The so-called bright world appeared shadowy
And in this dusky weather, suddenly the air felt unusual
This didn’t happen in years, the matter truly seemed crucial
I bizarrely felt the warmth of cool welcoming zephyr
My pages drifted, smiled and glinted like a pearl
My dull existence got transfigured into a life full-of-beans
Personified I was into a woman of worth, a woman of means
And now after owning this bag full of happiness,
I started reading the letters carved on me,
This time they were decipherable and defined,
They managed to unite me, my heart and my mind.
I looked around, in quest of the soul who revived me
Who passed by me and set my tangled soul free
Seeing him was out of question, quite hazy he appeared to me,
I could only fantasize him as a cozy breeze over the sea
Now, this breeze could be felt only when you are around me
You… only you and nothing beyond
You… the only one to make my passion profound
You… in your absence too you could be felt around
You … the only one in whom I am found!
Categories:
ill defined, faith, fantasy, happiness, hope,
Form:
Lyric
The age of premonition and belief in false speculations…
A firm believer of the grace now devoted to inelegance…
All it stated was an untainted fib…
Darkened fiend now restive within…
Falling by the force of an ill-defined revelation…
Swimming through cadavers of lies…
Illusive delusions cast before my perception…
All hopes are sedated by my hands…
Sheer inanity I commit exhibiting my buoyant stance…
Imperceptible shadows ridicule a common jest…
And those divine shall affix to fantasizing…
…As the rest battle with a fettered fiend within…
Sightlessly chose to pursue the affectionate call…
Veracity being a neglected constituent…
Sedated hope – call of the day…
…As aspiration thaws endlessly to oblivion…
Hope tends to soar higher by the progress of the seconds…
Peak exists for all which tends to be limitless…
Crash the new-born hope which unites with obscurity…
A premature plummet is beneficial to the torn essence…
A moon once elegant now darkened by the malevolent night…
Haunted by the iniquity ever so fervent…
And I run towards that which proffers solace…
Hands of murder soaked in the blackest blood…
The despaired yearning silently for another sunrise…
Darkened soul haunted by notions of a dim collapse…
Equipped with a blade ever so assertive…
The green earth now stained with blood of the fallen…
And desires for that which lies in the other realm…
…Endlessly distant from the dream which was once breathing…
Attempting to never dream for the unattainable…
Sedated hope – call of the day…
Categories:
ill defined, hope, dream, dream, hope,
Form:
Lyric
To Whom It May Concern:
There was a time when I had nothing. I was an empty soul. My self-esteem had even less meaning. The only times my heart would beat faster was when I felt the arms of my Mom & Dad. Maybe that was all I really needed. Maybe that was why I kept my excitement at bay when I would meet somebody new. They would look at me oddly, a stranger. A weirdo…my family never did that.
But, as my body became of darkness, light, & reality, I discovered love. I discovered friendship. I discovered pain & sadness. I discovered how to overcome. Today, I find my heart & soul feeling it all at once. Every heartbeat falls so deep it cannot be expressed under my usual dialect. It’s just plain English.
You, my desired metaphor, have chosen not to guide me. You walked away, silent.
If I had a nickel…
I grow tired of these ill-defined friendships, these unsolved mysteries, you have gifted to me. You were supposed to be my sidekick. My path…
Yet, you’ve simply become a glorified acquaintance.
My smile will overcome what you’ve done to me. I will take these arms to the nighttime stars.
Shutting my eyes to forget you…
With kind regards,
Unknown
©Drake J. Eszes
Categories:
ill defined, life, moving on, thank
Form:
Free verse
The lessons of life remind me,
the lack of substance,
birth and rebirth without relevance or depth
death to some, “who cares”
life to others, “who cares”
meaningless unspoken voices echoing back and forth
up and down, upside down
change we can't; we won't
hearts locked in cold
it's ok to be without, “get a job you bum”
empty innards inside - cold empty spaces outside
cold, heat, starvation,
pain and death,
pointless ill-defined life,
human beings as acceptable losses, “heaven forbid”
heatless minds accept
heart-filled minds don’t.
This work is dedicated to the ill dressed, soiled, bearded, smoking, scraggly maybe once proud and loving individual, holding his “homeless” sign in his hand begging for money - as I hurriedly exited the freeway this morning, who I ignored – actually hid from. Have I become what I dislike in others? Hope not.
Categories:
ill defined, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
Night creeps over the liberated country.
Silhouettes push dark and fathomless cells,
and with contorted faces
of political conspirators
are scattered
into the darkest hues imaginable,
concealed from each other,
each with his own private agenda.
In Congolese music
from vibrating speakers, and beyond
the ghetto, a sign pointing to the Capital.
Fathers of fathers sitting
on plastic Chinese chairs.
What stories we tell:
that you arrived
in the mouth of a lion;
that freedom is truth,
that orphan boys scratching in the dump
may one day be leaders.
Free, comrade, FREE, FREE, FREE
(the grammar of our days is ill defined)
And the gods cry:
Comrade, Comrade, you liars.
And all night, the lies
lunge into the rumpling
African Sculpture of the wind.
Categories:
ill defined, africa, allusion, angst, feelings,
Form:
Blank verse
The pools of sadness I have left behind
Broil and lie stagnating abandoned on the heath,
Their surfaces are restless, ill-defined,
Ripple-shot, concealing of the things that drown beneath.
The refugees of memories I suppress,
Wander lost and lonely, ragged ghosts out on the fen,
Decrepitly awaiting life’s caress,
That sparks them scant existence now and then.
The infamy of love that I have borne,
Beaten down and buried, walled in tombs of quarry stone,
Left nothing of themselves that I should mourn,
Nothing I could cleave to as a trigger to atone.
So gather ‘round you soothsayers and seers,
To charge the glass with misery and chase the whisky down,
For I will tell you of the king of tears,
The resist of abdication and the need to wear the crown.
Categories:
ill defined, introspection, life, loss, lost
Form:
Verse
The altar showed anomaly,
an orb of light,
a foil for small realities
that I could easily forget
but for that twilight cast,
to things I touch or dream--
that spirit song sequestered
where I cannot go.
Thoughts of relevance
...of insight
...of perceptions being reconciled
with the mundane
then smiling at myself:
all those are imprints on the mind
vibrating in the here and now
and possibly across the isthmus
in the place where peace prevails.
Orbs are discreet and diffident,
and when you chase them down,
they're gone. No peace remains
this side of consciousness,
yet on the journey of the open heart
an awe ineffable, a resolution that a dream
would trust and understand.
Or a dream within a dream?
Reality is ill defined. Yours, mine...
until the breath is gone
and consciousness fights on
to redefine the light.
And you and I will take awareness
to the end of day--and bless it,
certain that the night descends
to claim its own dark benefice
and decorous ecstacy.
~
Categories:
ill defined, angel, peace, peace,
Form:
Free verse
All you were was wishes
written on the wind,
blown about by breezes,
less than just a friend.
Sad to say I'm sorry,
for landing on that edge,
where heart and mind
are ill defined
and fantasies must end.
Look I see you sighing
off across the dawn,
notes of mental messages
of yesterdays now gone,
as hollow as the echoes
calling back to say..
Don't hate me now,
you see somehow,
I have to live this way.
I really am so empty
of love and faith and hope,
engaging you,
is what I do............
my only way to cope.
Categories:
ill defined, loss, lost love,
Form:
Couplet
No successes come without a struggle
A pity to wallow in life’s sorrow
To focus on our problems and trouble
Dims potential for better tomorrows
Seek the positive side, never borrow
The following day’s ill-defined boggle
Consider Egypt's stubborn king Pharoah
No successes come without a struggle.
Never seeing magic, the droll muggle
Knowing not a miracle may follow
One learns, interestingly, to juggle
A pity to wallow in life’s sorrow.
I think unlikely we will ever know
Success, only enjoying fate’s snuggle
Avoid looking for the better morrows
To focus on our problems and trouble.
Struggles come in quicker-time, redouble
Sometimes successes bring slow bravados
Concentrating on a problem’s rubble
Dims potential for better tomorrows
So, learn to balance your joys and sorrows
Focus on the forward steps, not trouble
From tomorrow’s woes surely don’t borrow
Above all, be especially humble,
...No success comes without struggle.
Written March 3, 2021
Poem inspired by Constance La France's
Contest "Life's Struggles"
Not entered in the contest!
Categories:
ill defined, life, success,
Form:
Rondeau Redouble
So and So, So Much.
Not so much as out of touch
as such
more so so much untouchable.
Nor so vague as unguessable
the intangible
more so or less the language
we re-touch
the blurred outline with
Not so much as unguessable
the soft luggage
more so that ill-defined
as much
more so the ephemeral baggage
of its mist out lined
to blind
As much as so much pretense
to be clear
the tongue loves whispers
with so much of truth
in as much of inhalation
yet so much as much joy
it speaks
and more
but does nothing less.
Not so much as out of touch
as such
more so so much untouchable.
So sleeping the selfish makes so much satisfactory
and as such so much of life
to live your life
is all that is made so readily.
The amplitude is empty
as such left as it was
by an unaccounted for yesterday
and yesterday when so much was left to be that much
but never more than that
as such.
Not so much as untouchable not so much
more so
as completely and utterly
out of touch.
So sleepily the selfish makes all so much
and thinks that is all so much
satisfactory.
Such an ill-defined love
by non committal.
Categories:
ill defined, introspection
Form:
Free verse
It seems old poems never die,
remain inchoate, ill-defined.
No matter how hard we may try,
they haunt the forests of the mind.
----------
Third Place Winner
for the Bite Size Poem no.44 Poetry Contest
sponsored by Line Gauthier
written 05/15/2022
Categories:
ill defined, poems,
Form:
Rhyme