Best Rigmarole Poems
I write-
mellifluous sweet murmuring poems-
gossamer whispering words
a labyrinth twisting and turning
serendipity writes
and woebegone sadramblingswithtears
and all I want to do is share
my feelings
sweet murmuring poems-gossamer
but here come the don'tdoitgang
a labyrinth twisting and turning
with their opinions stabbing
their rigmarole
wanting to make my safe harbour a hoosegow
oh the words and wordsdribbling they let fly
to our souls and
my mellifluous
sweet
murmuring
poems whispering
the discontentannoyingwordgang
a labyrinth
twisting
and turning
come with their constanttellingus what to do
smellfungas comments
and I
am guilty of everything it all
I enter my poems
written from the depths of my soul
in whatyoucallmeaningless contests
andIwinsometimes
so bite me
I leave comments lovelyandawesome
with words like beautiful and wonderful
so back off leavemealone bite me
I like to post
pictures with poems
everheardoffreeimages
I dwell behind a mighty high wall where
I write-
mellifluous sweet murmuring poems-
gossamer whispering words
a labyrinth twisting and turning
serendipity writes
and woebegone sadramblingswithtears
and all I want to do is share
my feelings
________________________
May 31, 2015
Poetry/Free Verse/bite me
Copyright Protected, ID 05-678-683-31
All Rights Reserved, 2015, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, Bite Me,
sponsor, John Lawless, Judged 2015
First Place
Categories:
rigmarole, anger, anti bullying,
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:
rigmarole, faith, fantasy, happiness, hope,
Form:
Lyric
Greetings from Canada dear readers ! Let me cajole you with a wee bit of fun
and ardent banter. Well, obviously I am Canadian and we are very polite and
charming people, we are sorry when we are guilty of nothing. We say please
and thank you and your welcome often. It is drilled into us from childhood.
You bump into us and lickety-split we will say sorry! It can all get quite absurd.
Talking about absurd there is a real rigmarole going on with a groundhog, a
rodent who predicts if we will get a long winter or a short winter. What kind of
nincompoop believes in this gobbledygook. The story goes that if the rodent,
excuse me, I mean groundhog sees his shadow we have six more weeks of
winter. Now, being a fairly intelligent girl, I say in a forceful voice, balderdash!
I could have predicted six more weeks of winter. Without getting cantankerous,
it is bloody freezing outside! Apparently this pampered, Willie rodent saw his
big fat shadow and it was declared. What a brouhaha that caused. Why did they
not just ask me ? Oh, we may get a little melt, to tease us but the snow and
cold will stick around to torment us, the wind will blow and the snow will fall.
the bare branches wish
for soft emerald green gowns-
snowflakes swirl and twirl
_______________________
February 4, 2018
Poetry/Haibun/A Bit Of Lofty Chit Chat
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9895-87
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Eloquent Banter; You tease me so nicely
sponsor, Edward McCall
Honorable Mention
Categories:
rigmarole, fun,
Form:
Haibun
Woman’s Desire
What’s all this rigmarole and claptrap
About the man being the only one thinking of sex?
Well, truth be known,
A woman, skin deeply eager, thinks much of it too…
Once leaving the job, after
The shopping; the vaccuuming; the cooking; the pots,
Pans, and dishes; after the childrens’
Homework, meals, baths, and good-night kisses;
Once the cat and dog have gone out and in
Twice, been fed, and cooed over while petted;
After inquires about her spouse’s work, complaints,
And wishes; after the phone calls to people of concern;
After checking the bank account, new emails, and
Cleaning out her handbag; counting out lunch monies;
Preparing the morrow’s snacks and clothing; writing
The lists of to-do’s and schedules; and, preparing medications…
Afrter all that, following ten minutes of rest
In a cushioned chair,
Among the first wishes of her long-patient body,
Is for some time to linger, living
Pleasure’s words whispered by her passion’s tongue.
A woman desires to lay felt and feeling sensuously
With her beloved, warm and spent,
Close to sleep at her side.
——————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 9/16/2023
Categories:
rigmarole, feelings, gender, love, relationship,
Form:
Free verse
Lickety-split, I sit up and look at the clickety clock,
oh my gosh, why am I lollygagging in this cozy bed;
I am going to be so late for dance class, I better skedaddle,
so I canoodle my cats (hugs and kiss that is);
and like a flash I am out of bed!
Oh dear, what a rigmarole of unnecessary complexity,
I run to the kitchen and open a tin of, oh so stinky fish;
for the fur balls, (no accounting for taste,) my tummy rumbles,
I dress in my pink dance pants, brush my teeth;
I look in the mirror, holy macaroni!
I was going to wash the mop last night but didn't,
oh well, the flat iron turns me into a Cleopatra star;
then, I look outside, snow, lots of snow, blast I need boots,
oh yes under the bed where I flung them;
what a stupid kerfuffle!
Walking to dance, a bus sprays with me with slush,
darn nincompoop, I am thinking to myself and then;
a loud honk, and a car roars pass me, I almost have a stroke,
I finally make it and the receptionist says- cancelled,
cancelled, oh la-di-la, that's great!
I am walking back home when I step into a deep puddle,
and my feet are now soaking wet, I am just exhausted;
I will crawl back into my bed for a snoozle I say to me self,
but I am waylaid by my old fuddy-duddy neighbor;
dearie,(she whips out a grocery list)!
You know, I cannot walk in the snow, meantime her cat,
a fat Persian rubs my legs and I have fur from knees down;
but what can a girlie do, I turn around and hocus-pocus its done,
finally, I am standing in my bedroom all tatterdemalion,
like a child in rags, I feel like weeping!
And then I notice the collywobbles in my tummy,
like butterflies swirling, and then a great rumbling;
oh, damnation, I need something to eat, so I gongoozle,
stare that is, into the refrigerator, close the door, slam;
and grab a handful of cockamamie cookies!
_________________________
January 26, 2017
Poetry/Narrative/Lickety-Split
Copyright Protected, ID 17-8691-18-0
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Submitted to the contest , Any Poem Written in January 2017
Sponsor, Laura Loo
First Place
Categories:
rigmarole, funny, humor, life,
Form:
Narrative
scrutable squirrel
stocks up the winter larder...
another nut case
© Harry J Horsman 2022
Categories:
rigmarole, humorous, nature,
Form:
Haiku
Hungry for munchies, on his way to the lunchroom,
a rambunctious, persnickety,“fuss-budget”, elderly
jittery, fidgety, geezer, named Cassidy…
whose questionable dexterity, aghast by a massive sneeze,
teeter-tottered precariously.
at the edge of the thingamajig, ...jigging one way, jagging the other!
Minding his own beeswax, without any rigmarole,
topsy-turvy on his feet, he reached for the balustrade,
became quite flabbergasted, and very discombobulated
when the doohickey provided for his ambidextrous aid
jiggled free from its screws, and found him footloose!
It seemed the doo-dad, put there by some nitpicking pipsqueak,
some flat-footed, hooligan, who knew diddly-squat, who obviously,
recklessly, constructed a railing, only worthy for failing!
Such foolhardy shenanigans! Was it some practical joke
to lambaste aged codgers, eliminate lodgers, and boondoggle the old folks?
Cass, was an old rabble-rouser, considered a blabbermouth,
was thrown off his epicenter, while his cane went a'sailing, appendages flailing
Onlookers, were outraged, ....in stage of amazement
but laughs grew contagious, and cock-eyed hilarious!
Those carpetbagger carbuncles of society….can’t stop this old fogy
Cass, brushed off his hinny, would not be blind-sighted..
Barbaric bedevilment, won’t halt his felicity!
Some even predicted, with his acid tongue lashings, and his eccentric behavior,
he would stir up entanglement, kibosh the haranguers
and strangle the caboodles, who hooted and hollered!
His face turned beet red, but no meltdown,......instead
He held his chin high
to the dining room, ahead....he ordered French bread
Ordered some bouillabaisse, toasted with balderdash and a shot of rye
He dined with the multitudes, ordered some strudel, and one snicker-doodle
Then he told folks a riddle, "There was a man with a cane, who slipped on a noodle, a handrail came loose, he injured his caboose….and cooked his goose!"
.....................................................
Categories:
rigmarole, funny, people, old, old,
Form:
Narrative
A rope-line of commitments
keeps me busy and hobbled;
unable to move elsewhere
a difficult situation.
It’s like going on the whole rigmarole
prepared to sacrifice, willing to serve;
open to be wounded and -
attend to whatever needs to be done.
Oh, certain kinds of experience
make me realize it’s enduring
to get involved in the messiness
that life holds to each of us.
Seeing the aftermath of events,
unfolded in many settings;
a gauge to decipher life’s messages
having one’s heart in the right place.
Like Johann Sebastian Bach’s style
there’s a wavelength of question and answer;
such a unique way to understand
it implications to life’s ups and downs.
Categories:
rigmarole, hope, life, me,
Form:
Rhyme
I feel your love reaching out to my soul,
fueling flames of passion in my heart.
I didn't dare dream I could ever feel whole:
yet I fell for you from the very start.
Though tears may fall, we'll never drift apart:
for two became one when love took control.
And whenever our dreams need a kick-start,
I feel your love reaching out to my soul.
Even on days that seem as dark as coal,
Love brings us closer together, sweetheart.
I'll never forget that first kiss I stole:
fueling flames of passion in my heart.
You offered me all that love could impart;
not just an actor with a minor role.
And before hope gave my heart a jumpstart,
I didn't dare dream I could ever feel whole.
I felt all caught up in life's rigmarole;
seeking my soul's elusive counterpart.
Love once felt like an impossible goal,
yet I fell for you from the very start.
When I'm safe in your arms, all doubts depart:
you like country; I prefer rock-and-roll.
I doodle, you appreciate fine art,
yet when holding hands on a moonlit stroll;
I feel your love.
Categories:
rigmarole, anxiety, destiny, emotions, feelings,
Form:
Rondeau Redouble
You're the missing piece that completes my soul
I would not exist if it weren't for you,
for together, we make each other whole.
Before you, my life felt like a sinkhole
being swallowed, with no one to cling to,
you're the missing piece that completes my soul.
We're two hearts sharing one dream and one goal
the moment we met, our wishes came true,
for together, we make each other whole.
You've never asked for nor taken control
and have never cheated or withdrew
you're the missing piece that completes my soul.
We fell in love without the rigmarole
of doubt, a love experienced by few,
for together, we make each other whole.
Mere actors on life's stage, fate chose a role
that encompasses everything we do.
You're the missing piece that completes my soul,
for together, we make each other whole.
Categories:
rigmarole, emotions, how i feel,
Form:
Villanelle
We are sick to think we have done something big.
We are in a daze and nothing more.
The cats that came were deformed.
They legs were made to dance.
They pantomime.
The rigmarole was a silent scream.
[Meowl]
They were as colorful as butterflies.
They walked around with scary eyes.
The fat men that brought them were sloppy pigs.
They were sick to think they had done something big.
Immense the ravage these pigs were.
They were friends to the deformed felines.
They stomachs were made to prey human.
The raze caused confusion.
They were to form the great divided.
They walked around with scary eyes.
They would feast on the rodents that thrive in the ground.
They were to be taught this or they would be wiped out.
On a deadly morn, the cats woke.
By noon, the pigs honked.
The people of the City did their work.
This would be the day guns smoked.
The Cats lives were lived in dilapidation.
The Pigs lives were in slop.
The Wild Boars would try to convert.
The pigs were pigs ate by the humans.
The battle started.
The humans killed more.
The wild boars receded.
The deformed felines were destroyed.
MEOWL!
_________|
~Inspired by the expressive art of poetry via storytelling, fantasy, fairy tales, tall tales, etc.~
Categories:
rigmarole, cat, character, dance, day,
Form:
Free verse
Along this highway of my life
Thru times of joy and some of strife
With overpass and underpass
The road keeps winding on
While getting through this rigmarole
May seem an overwhelming goal
I thank the mistress of my soul
Who keeps me grinding on.
Since early on I guess I’ve known
We weren’t meant to walk alone
But finding one to walk with can
Be somewhat of a challenge
They come in such variety
T'would seem an impropriety
To venture to compare them
Like an apple to an orange.
But keep the faith for all songs say
We’ve someone out there each of us
The perfect size the perfect fit
And just the right ambitiousness
They say these things are planned above
By one who is omniscient
So why should such a fool as i
Pretend to be proficient?
I’ll get in bed and say my prayers
And when the last of them are said
I’ll say goodnight and dim the light
Then write it down and go to bed.
Just another Warrenpiece
Categories:
rigmarole, desire, destiny, introspection, life,
Form:
Rhyme
Spring Showers
I was born in the spring, the sound of the drops,
When the slopes of the snow melted stale,
Golden bird swing
Playfully taking off.
And the flocks were gathering in the sky, the clouds,
Burned in pools solar copper
Lake smoke fragrant frost
Not keep the night cold.
And cry spring breath,
Blowing off roofs track rigmarole.
Winter at his last gasp
Filmed faded bed.
Was the trail, sparkling rays
Spring, azure in the sky blue,
Merry splashing streams,
Murmuring, and repeating his chant.
I was born in the spring, in the lodge white
I smiled at the windows bullfinches,
I talked to them and sang,
Droplets playing until dawn.
Spring Showers
30.03.2013
Nick
Categories:
rigmarole, nature,
Form:
Free verse
One fine day, me, Molly Coddle and my Goombah Pa Pa,
were sitting in The Cat In The Hat restaurant;
we gongoozled the men-you. " oh, I have collywobbles
in my tummy!" I said sort of loudly. (hint, hint)
Finally, our waiter Fuddy Duddy, (that is his name, honest)
so slowly, comes over, "What will you hatz?" He sayz;
I quickly place my odour, " I'll have a chocolaty lickety split,
a smellfungus burger with all the rigmarole with it;
and some fat-me-up fries!"And I slam close, the men-you.
Goombah Pa Pa lookz at his men-you for the longest time,
(oh la di la, whatz the brouhaha, just odour, I'm a thinking)
at last he sayz, "I'll have some kerfuffle tea, and some of
that skullduggary soup of the day and some shennanigan
pasta surprize!" And he slams the men-you closed, with a smile.
Fuddy Duddy nods and walks away with the speed of a snail,
(oh gobbleygook, my tummy is rumbling) when at last he;
is coming our way with a tray loaded with our meal- (rumble!)
when some doozy, klutz of a kid trips Fuddy Duddy, and
we have to skedaddle out of the way . . . or wear our food!
Goombah Pa Pa, canoozles me on the cheek. "Nevermind,
Molly Coddle, we'll just re-odour . . .
(oh collywobbles, I'm thinking, loudly)
Goombah Pa Pa, whispers, "patience is a virtue, Molly Coddle!"
(rumble!)
______________________
March 18, 2017
Narrative/Molly Coddle and her Collywoobles
Copyright Protected, ID 885485
I Need A Cup of Seuss
Jerry T. Curtis,
Categories:
rigmarole, children,
Form:
Narrative
I.D-deal-an-ology of Irresponsibility
Turn creation away from appreciation
And into a miracle
Turn the miracle away from care
For what possible pathetic hands as these
Could ever change anything
Turn life into a repentance for living
The demoralization of heavens acceptance
Gives anyone the easy excuse
Not to do; anything
Tis the last refuge
The last fig leaf of blindness
The very last impromptu surrender
That has nothing at all to do with this
Ideology of Irresponsibility
Places responsibility at someone else’s feet
And heaven augments the captivity
Of dreaming for something better
But; Better the dream in practice
Punishing the wicked
The social classes and poverty created
To think elitist
But deprivation instigated
The cause of so much suffering
Turn the blind eye to perfection then
And wait upon salvation
Turn teaching to the plethora of rigmarole
Do nothing about them
Say then
It is all in God’s hands
And wash clean your own
Rest the conscience in the balm of deliverance
Praise all the little tiny aspects of creation
And never know
What it means to be responsible for them
Walk away in comfort
Be comforted
By an inglorious gratitude
That strips caring to a falsehood
Of simply shrugged shoulders
Cry humanity, weep, wail and bitter turn
Shed the tears in abundance
And do nothing at all
About them
Ideology of Irresponsibility
Places responsibility at someone else’s feet
And heaven augments the captivity
Of dreaming for something better
Though; Better the dream in practice
Rather than the if, but and maybe of promises for tomorrow
and not today
Categories:
rigmarole, lifedream, heaven, dream, heaven,
Form:
Free verse