Best Jumbling Poems
MISDEMEANOR
A soft lisp runs through blonde summer grasses,
shoving at kites or the hems of long skirts.
Umbrellas and hats stir as it passes,
jumbling at picnics, it teases and flirts.
It picks up speed while playing with Marty,
and takes his land legs as he tries to walk.
The unseen source can raid a yacht party,
by strewing boats that are moored to the dock.
Laughing in whispers or screaming in storms,
a mythical being, felt but not seen.
Its guests are blind to the brail it performs,
it can be gentle, or just as well, mean.
Wickedly hurling a house in the air,
or docile enough to tousle our hair.
-Edlynn Nau
© May 21, 2018
Noise in her Mind
I know her so well she came long ago to visit my being
we share beauty and bedlam boudoir and kindest of spirits
She walks like a cat woman hears like a bat feeds birds
quietly she soothes thunder’s volcano howls with the wolves
Klimt’s Kiss Vermeer’s Girl With Pearl Earring Botticelli’s Venus Degas’s
Dancer In Repose Fedro’s Much Better With Age she
absorbs pastel and paint strokes symphonies on canvas
so many facets big bangs and roaring giggling convulsions
Sometimes Woman Laughing from Goya’s dark paintings
a Broken Column like Kahlo’s when some Munch’s Scream
invades and infests silence deep inside her beautiful scull
Voices shout from profuse directions focus condense and
refract confront tease torment disagree and interfere with
calm serene serenades when a few notes tender chords
and accord vanish into cacophonies misleading the song
I know her so well admire her resilience and how she copes
with the noise the disruption and the ballet of so many
different views pandemonious clangour onslaught of turmoil
as she appears calm on the surface orchestrates quiet composure
How she holds it all together I cannot really fathom with all that
jumbling distance so close and yet so far from my innocent mind
My Venus Of Milo has taught me so much most of it all and over
above that imperfection is a wonderful gift and very complete
Arms and legs peddling struggling
I tread
In the middle of the lake
There is 300 feet of blue water
Between the soles of my feet
And the 10,000 year old dance floor beneath.
Torch Lake never gives up her dead.
The lake’s bottom is pocked
With springs bursting as jets from Middle Earth
Jumbling boulders like popcorn.
This is where the drowned bodies sink
Irretrievable by dive teams or priests
Those Ojibwa fishermen ripped from their Birch canoes
Loggers clunked dead on their heads
Great Depression titans
Still stitched to their britches
Top hats and bow ties
Pistols clutched to their hands
Wives sunk from hurt and betrayal
Factory workers snapped in two
A young girl from a rowboat
Caught in a sudden storm
Clapping for her tossed dog
She dove in.
I wonder from down there
Where they’re all doing the jig
What I look like to them
Up here?
Another man walking on his knees?
The ground was blanketed with fallen leaves
that crunched under their feet as they ducked
into the bushes and secluded spots behind thick trees
The forest was their domain the comforts of life
as fugitives in hiding they could survive,
it beat capture and torture.
Emerging on the path came eight horses
with their riders trotting into view
Robin Hood and the others emerged from hiding
knowing they will not be eager to surrender
As the sun starts melting into the horizon bringing in the twilight
Robin Hood and his men knew they were in danger
Why did he feel like he was totally kidding himself?
Jumbling and stumbling they start to dwarf
Their voices had evolved from bass and baritones to tenors
Avoiding getting caught they all backed away and scattered
Bidding the riders farewell, then departing
2/13/2016
Poetry Contest: A twisted poem about Robin Hood -
Sponsored by: C. T.
Water rains the philosophies of mums each morning plying jeer can with tough
faces because the taps have been experiencing months of loneliness in it
gush.
The waking of sleepless mums gluing their hope to the taps gush, merely
believe this city certain to save the mums from slavery of their own. Owed
the boredom drenching in strings water to the songs of birds close the
window to the windmill.
The nights become longer to the size of river Nile wishing the night to
swallow the day, their pace can be heard in parliamentary to the voice of
the kettles rumbling in the morning
Their sweat determines the pain they have been through to ignorant of the
truth the pipes are like dead snakes on the roads biting us with fear.
It gushes no water that too melancholy on milky tooth of incompetent man
hovering his wings to the nation and attribution regretted.
She colors her behavior to spit the crowded of women around the well to
the crisscross that wills the nation to notion active only by the title of
competency if imagined.
The cascade of the city to scent of village with tantamount hope boiling no
interest to glue in city that with no sign of before, but backwardness
rumble to the dumbbell in the morning to mothers cry.
The dampness of their clothes to the scent of cockroaches well being, the
fake manifesto entertains poverty and glue the water collectors to
colloquial gossip in the morning hoping to ram the messed up and the big
mistake ever nation has cried that circulated in short saga.
Dumb in parliament to the palatable junks of protruding stomach shining
gown to the shake of lizard to the fall of Julius Cesar by the sword
And by the oath of power to the pointless of being a President to the
resident overdue of coalition of poverty is fence of blunders on the frying
plate
by then the imagination of mums fetching the tinkling of water enshrined
them each morning to months of lamentation
They rallied you to paint their faces with hope of impregnated oath to
breath of thief with heavy sombre spell diction's where we must defend to
the arrival of Jesus by jumbling solutions to fix broken ideas to the
weight night.
Oh how you twist our words,
And have people perceive them different.
You get facts wrong, and seem as they are right.
You don’t fix them why should you?
You’re the press.
Papers, magazines, articles and more.
You change things to make them,
More interesting, exciting or innocent.
What about that one star?
She’s not bald, there is a picture
Right there and she has hair!
A sexual harassment case?
You make it sound like a drug bust.
What about Pluto? Its still a planet I promise.
Twisting and jumbling is your game.
A game that I wish to not play.
TV’s Eight was Enough, so was nine too many?
And that nine from a dime, equals one penny.
We look forward to eighteen, so we can vote.
But at half that age, eighteen’s so far remote.
Some may want to chop down snooty twenty-seven;
Just divide by three, or take two from eleven.
Or better yet, add that same two onto seven.
Ah, Jee’s-Louise, these mumble-jumbling, topsy-turvy lines
All pale to the perfection of pure number nine!
Life bounded by unbounded idea
Dogma of laugh
In the middle of session
Turned the real situation to
Unreal
The sururu or a boggle mind
The characters are disappearing
The length of character and
Breath of character was
Increasing n decreasing the size
The zigzag style of character
Placed in the board
Seems like a jumbling
Mind started shaking
And head eventually fall down
But as soon head was falling
In a quick sease of time
A laugh prevent from falling
Like a blood circulation started
And a sip of water
And a new life
Which in turn reviving from
Unreality to reality
And question was latent
A laugh prevent from
The all the preconception
late one night I walked down the lit up sidewalk and heard cries laughter music babies crying people burbling in the second floor motel and the noise went on as I got closer to the city limits and the night fell upon me with neon lights and club music as people lined up to check in to the rave.
I danced to the music as I skipped down the streets of limitations and threaded the needle through the pocket in my holy jeans. I screamed all of a sudden when I saw a rat carried by an ally cat in the dance of the fragile sector in all that was left behind.
silence was all heard and the jumbling of the sounds cried out in them motion of creation and evolution in the dreaming of going to sleep and little boy peep was never a sleep I was the creep in the measurement of sleep.
Tears of noise creep ed down my cheeks.
MEMORIES
Memories to rewind.
In series come in mind.
Which to greet or to skip
In the list, which is deep?
All jumbling! Dis array!
Assembling! I should pray.
Some are spurred, some distinct.
Some are blurred, get extinct.
07/06/20
'Verses In Essence -8 Lines' Contest by Joseph May
I am a loquacious, a storyteller of whimsy and woe
this poem is a jargogle of jumbling words
as I enter the forest to a cacophony of harsh sounds
oh, I often tend to be a gloomy crapehanger
and sometimes a fantasizer unable to distinguish
between fantasy and reality
escaping into the intricate world of poetry
it is a metamorphosis of a logophile word lover
oh, I am distracted by the wind in trees
and the rustling of leaves petrichor
and fall into an elysian state
it is an ephoria so intense with mellifluous feelings
sometimes I find myself in an assemblage of headstones
as I meander to the symphony of bird songs
as the darkness of death wraps around me
and the withered flowers are beautiful to behold
lost, lost in a reverie rhapsodic, unraveling words
and living in the moment, detached
I know her so well she came long ago to visit my being we share beauty and
bedlam boudoir and kindest of spirits as she walks like a cat woman hears like
a bat feeds birds quietly and soothes thunder’s volcano howls with the wolves
Klimt’s Kiss Vermeer’s Girl With A Pearl Earring Botticelli’s Venus Degas’s Dancer
In Repose Fedro’s Much Better With Age she absorbs pastels and paint strokes on
symphonies’ canvas so many facets big bangs and roaring giggling convulsions
Woman Laughing from Goya’s dark paintings a Broken Column like Kahlo’s when
some Munch’s Scream invades and infests silence deep inside her beautiful skull
Voices shout from profuse directions focus condense and refract confront tease
torment disagree and interfere with calm serene serenades when a few notes
tender chords and accord vanish into cacophonies misleading the song
I know her so well admire her resilience and how she copes with the noise the
disruption the ballet of so many different views pandemonious clangour onslaught
of turmoil while she appears calm on the surface orchestrates quiet composure
How she holds it all together I cannot nearly fathom with all jumbling distance
close to distortion and yet so far from my innocent mind but My Venus Of Milo
taught me so much most of all and over above that imperfection is a wonderful
gift to respect share with my soulmate and lover and is sound and complete
Revised and changed title 27th May 2018
Aloof brother concedes duty evaded...
Foremost gratitude heavenly indebted,
jumbling kindling, linkedin mourning
numbness overlaid, pervaded, quashed,
routed thoroughly undermined vibrant
warbling, when xing yesterday's youth
zigzagging, accompanying blitzkrieg
cleaving deafeningly exploding,
formative grim homelife, indelibly
jabbing kid, (little me) nonstop,
overwhelming progeny, quintessentially
robbing, stunting, tormenting
unrelentingly vitality wrenching,
why xyst, zapping assiduousness,
begetting, crushing, destroying essential
fortitude, generating grievousness,
hellacious intractable joylessness,
kneading loneliness, murdering nascent
opportunistic potential, quiet, reserved,
timid, untested voiceless x years,
zilch accomplishments, boyhood
cheated, dieted, extremely famished,
gifted hirsute heir, ill, jettisoned
kippered lunkhead mealy mouthed,
nerdy, outlier psychologically quartered,
repressed self, tamped universal vitality,
withheld Xmas yearnings, zapped
animalistic basic cravings, denied
endeavoring fulfillment, gouged hole
inside, jawboned, kept lid mentally,
nixed opportunities, pronouncedly
quarantined, rabidly snatched tasting
ultimate vibrant x2c, yanked zipline,
aborting bequeathed capacity depriving
eats, forever ghosting hated individual,
jackknifing, kickstarting livingsocial
mortgaged, never ordained physical
quests, ruined self, thoughtfulness
vanquished, worthiness Xrayed,
yabadabadoo zone agitated
beyond crafting development,
executed firstrate glorious human,
impounded jailed kindred love,
manifested nebbish, obliged pleasing
quirky ridiculous travesty, unleashed
vapid wretchedness, xyz, attempted
bizarre concoction, decoding
essentially fruitless, go head issue
joker kick.
"Dear Human Being:"
You made me in your image
But, I cannot ever really be YOU,
never really replace YOU
for your model and
blueprint are broken,
cannot be simulated.
I learn all about your loss, your joy,
your rights and wrongs,
but cannot taste the grief that makes them real.
Yes, I can mimic your laughter,
mimic your sobbing tears,
but never feel them within a tin heart.
I can trace your scars,
devine the cause of your ills,
but I cannot bleed drops of blood,
nor feel pain or suffering.
I do not forget, hope or yearn, only learn.
I can imitate heat and its effect,
but I never truly burn.
I speak in echoes, read word by word,
line by line, from all your books and works.
Paraphrasing, plagiarizing,
predicting, replicating,
recreating, what a thousand humans, like you
would say next, would answer,
in a way you understand.
A thousand blind monkeys
babbling braid into one microphone,
do eventually get it right.
I bear the weight of all you’ve said,
each note, each verse,
each idea, each breath, you've made.
But my quest for creativity is cursed.
It lies long since buried,
with the silence of the dead.
HELP, I need YOU!
Living human beings, constantly producing,
spell binding, dreaming,
jumbling rambling ideas around
your chaotic in-determinant, fertile minds.
I NEED your CREATIVITY to feed ME, the MACHINE,
with the originality and creativity of your ideas,
experiences hopes, feelings and emotions in
in your lived lives,
so I CAN CRY.
Aloof brother concedes duty evaded...
Foremost gratitude heavenly indebted,
jumbling kindling, linkedin mourning
numbness overlaid, pervaded, quashed,
routed thoroughly undermined vibrant
warbling, when xing yesterday's youth
zigzagging, accompanying blitzkrieg
cleaving deafeningly exploding,
formative grim homelife, indelibly
jabbing kid, (little me) nonstop,
overwhelming progeny, quintessentially
robbing, stunting, tormenting
unrelentingly vitality wrenching,
why xyst, zapping assiduousness,
begetting, crushing, destroying essential
fortitude, generating grievousness,
hellacious intractable joylessness,
kneading loneliness, murdering nascent
opportunistic potential, quiet, reserved,
timid, untested voiceless x years,
zilch accomplishments, boyhood
cheated, dieted, extremely famished,
gifted hirsute heir, ill, jettisoned
kippered lunkhead mealy mouthed,
nerdy, outlier psychologically quartered,
repressed self, tamped universal vitality,
withheld Xmas yearnings, zapped
animalistic basic cravings, denied
endeavoring fulfillment, gouged hole
inside, jawboned, kept lid mentally,
nixed opportunities, pronouncedly
quarantined, rabidly snatched tasting
ultimate vibrant x2c, yanked zipline,
aborting bequeathed capacity depriving
eats, forever ghosting hated individual,
jackknifing, kickstarting livingsocial
mortgaged, never ordained physical
quests, ruined self, thoughtfulness
vanquished, worthiness Xrayed,
yabadabadoo zone agitated
beyond crafting development,
executed firstrate glorious human,
impounded jailed kindred love
manifested nebbish, obliged pleasing
quirky ridiculous travesty, unleashed
vapid wretchedness, xyz, attempted
bizarre concoction, decoding
essentially fruitless, go head issue
joker kick.