Best Waddled Poems
If I wasn't there,
the rain swollen clouds
would have still dumped
their dark weight over the bay
and through a gaping tear,
let down a curtain of sunlight
to start the day.
And if I wasn't there,
the old, arthritic labrador
would have still waddled
along the street
with its bent but steady gait,
undistracted, self absorbed
and fixed in its own stare
that allowed no deviation
from years of devoted plod.
The morning had no need
for me, what happened
would have happened anyway.
There's an annoying sadness
in knowing the earth
doesn't seem to care
if things pass unnoticed.
Sunsets and waterfalls
carry no favor.
To it, the achingly beautiful
and the catastrophic can
happily go unreported.
And yet I still ask -
what's the point -
and entertain the notion
that the universe has this
innate and unfathomable need
for a witness
to take in Creations
unfolding riddle
and make it fit together.
I could be wrong,
but for each of us,
the privilege of being here
on this gifted earth,
to understand, care for
and tell its story in song
fulfills a purpose,
if only to this end -
or something more.
Categories:
waddled, care, creation, dog, earth,
Form:
Free verse
Some people wear baggage like a hat in church,
Still others could conceal it through a customs search!
Me? It depends on the mood that I'm in,
My frame may be thick, but my skin's super thin.
As a child, dysfunction was all that I knew.
Violence and alcohol increased as I grew
And the things that I heard and the things that I viewed,
I packed them all up with my clothes and I shooed.
And when I would meet someone, I'd try to disguise
That baggage as noticeable as my big giant thighs.
"You're beautiful," he'd say, but I knew the truth.
I'm fat and I'm worthless, and I've got the proof.
Locked deep in my psyche, but not deep enough,
Some poisonous, invisible gas out would puff.
And heaven forbid he got an ********!
My baggage was foolproof as a form of protection!
If he seemed too perfect on any given date,
My baggage would whisper, "belittle, berate!"
And so I would treat him like a much lower class
Then turn and retreat with my oversized ass.
But one day I waddled into a cafe
So weighed down with baggage every step of the way
That I knew it was time to this load jettison
So I dropped to my knees and prayed, "Help me! Amen."
The baggage still visits me now and again,
And I have to remind it we're no longer friends
I'm married and he loves me whatever my girth,
Reminding me daily I'm the fairest on earth!!!
Categories:
waddled, confidence, conflict, emotions, introspection,
Form:
Rhyme
Hues I desired, soon abandoned my sky
As flashing thunder ignited fiery clouds
Dissipating orange glow evening sought
Turning wild winds into advancing storm
Having promised you a galaxy of stars
I stepped boldly to go where they are
But there was no moon to guide my path
As I waddled in floods pitch-blank dark
Birds had detoured to shelter and hide
Seeing ocean's ride in enormous tides
Scattering on earth a despicable plight
As upon a hill I saw a glimmer of light
Courage I found in wondrous thoughts
Knowing this was to be my only chance
Bracing the storm to go where you are
Waiting inside the tall red lighthouse
But when I made it there you were gone
Alas, I was tricked by a heartless mirage
June 11, 2018
Categories:
waddled, heartbreak, imagination,
Form:
Free verse
Dear Alliteration,
First friend, foremost;
Forgetting not,
Shy Allegory,
Dressed in Allusion;
Sweet Anaphora,
How I need thee!
How I need thee!
And Assonance;
Never deep asleep,
Nor rest Refrained,
By Caesura;
Clever Chiasmus;
Who has pause to write,
And write to pause;
Cheeky Consonance,
Agreeing;
Time needs its tick-tock,
Rocked at chimes;
How Didactic,
An Ictus,
Ellipsis,
Is that?
Clink — tinkle;
Cubes in a glass;
Bourbon mist;
Hello;
Onomatopoeia is back,
From visiting,
Palindrome,
At Lake Oxoboxo,
Madam Eve,
Our favorite,
Paradox,
Not pair a ducks,
Nor Parataxis,
She quacked not;
She waddled not;
She flew not;
End stopped;
Did not,
Run into Enjambment,
Iambic,
Pentameter,
On foot nearby;
Rhyme Royal chanting;
Prose babbling,
Out of line,
Screaming;
Vers libre!
Vers libre!
Pathos,
Pity me;
Scan not,
My prosody;
Bravo!
The coins are tossed;
O my dear friends,
In poetry,
Therein lay,
Our Eulogy,
Paradise Lost.
Categories:
waddled, art, education, on writing
Form:
Rhyme
Like a royal parade,
they waddled across
the well traveled thoroughfare
teeming with autos crawling to a stop;
otherwise road rage reduced to admiration.
The regal drake held his head high—his eyes
piercing straight ahead—oblivious to the traffic.
The obeisance of his trailing brace
reflected a solemn reverence to their chief.
A mother hen shot an evil eye to a baby Donald
who quickly got back in step before exiting onto
the dew laden emerald grass—Glistering.
With the aura of a spa for creatures
bearing wings or fins or tails, as well as feet,
the pond awaited them—one by one
quacking with pleasure as they entered.
As we mounted our bikes
to continue our ride, auto horns
began to honk and obscene words
abated the serene ambiance.
Categories:
waddled, analogy, animal, beauty, environment,
Form:
Prose Poetry
"I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud"
~by William Wordsworth~
I wandered lonely as a Duckling
Swimming in a big and lovely pond,
Trying to fit in and make a bond,
A group of golden fluffy ducklings.
Beside the lake, beneath the blue sky,
Playing together, not being shy.
Graceful as the wildflowers that grow
Growing in beauty, pure as the snow,
Sweet as honeydew or summer rain.
Though grace and beauty, there's also pain
Beautiful roses that still have thorns
Or gentle lambs, now sheep with sharp horns
Staying together, not leaving their group
They all waddled in the most perfect line
Beside the crystal pond in the sunshine:
In unison, with their heads held up high,
They passed by one by one, and waved goodbye:
I often think, Am I really that strange?
Or was it them that decided to change?
Their eyes size me up, their judgment is plain
Causing my heart to recoil in pain
I cherish memories from long ago
The beautiful group, my heart longed to know
Categories:
waddled, hurt, judgement, lonely,
Form:
Rhyme
The day you were born was my euphoric high
When everything changed hearing your first cry
As hearts synchronized in embrace with a sigh
And every breathe of your being became my joy.
Eating and sleeping occupied your early days
New things I learned with each sound you made
Your jittery moves said you wanted to be held
Your cooing grew louder each time we played.
When you began walking you waddled on toes
Your first word uttered was music to my ears
When you played soccer your goal was my score
Every time you raised the bar, I shed happy tears.
When you first learned to bike, I glided in pride
When we first argued, I knew you were growing
As you became an adult, I lingered alongside
When I heard logic, I knew you were thinking.
Every year in college your success became mine
With every misstep that hurt, I lost my footing
Your graduation day was my time in sunshine
No matter the anguish, I never stopped rooting.
When I saw you venture out with a brilliant start
I know you looked back with love and gratitude
While I must stay back and let you chart you path
I will be cheering when you reach your altitude.
October 15, 2017
Placed 2nd: Parenthood
Sponsor: Silent One
Categories:
waddled, parents,
Form:
Verse
The whittled worries and fears shred my nerves like ants on glass, sparkling red. I notice and bow to the glitterati in their fine silks and cuts of cloth because they pay my wages; they care little for the red-cheeked fellow in the silly hat, whose spring step is more right-right than left-right. I’ve become the cheesy blue veined odour curdling on the edge of the plate, readying the silver bone china scrape.
I don't belong at this party with my ill-fitting garb and my eyes mercilessly seduced by the bejeweled beauties beset with jouncy bouquets, spilling colours fountain-like, their exuberant price tags hanging down unembarrassed, soliciting the eye to not deny the wealth. The verdant green will see two-stepping tonight, to the tunes in my head. I am the entertainment, yet feel like the booby prize no one sees. Must I sing for my supper in my red striped specially selected boating hat, or should I croon like the scolded cat serenading the moon.
That's when I saw her slinking and jingling, a charade slipping its mooring, her face dreamy, floating on a tide of lilacs and honeysuckles, and like a brazen queen-worthy vessel, she parted the waves to meet me on the floor closely followed by a scrum of sweaty-faced boys that up-anchored and waddled in her wake. I sang a croon for her ears alone, to imagine dancing with me under the crescent of the moon, in our garden filled with cents and honey and songs to set the traps with money - but all that this did achieve, was nothing but the wish to be elsewhere, somewhere a little less funny.
Categories:
waddled, allusion,
Form:
Prose
The Wellington Harbor vagrants that waddled
Removed from the sushi stand where they coddled
Were heard to say,
"That is okay,"
"For it badly needs to be remodeled"
New Zealand Police Detain Penguins
New Zealand Police on Monday arrested a pair of penguins as they were caught loitering outside a sushi outlet. The birds, described as "waddling vagrants" were held near a Wellington train station as they made their way to a nearby Sushi Bi.
Categories:
waddled, bird, humor, nature, water,
Form:
Limerick
I chanced upon Polly Wolly
Walking one day after school
Clearly without her doodle
Something she thought she'd never lose
She told me she had sat it down
As it was out of tune
And when doodles sound more like poodles
What else is there to do
So I took a hold of Polly
And led her by the hand
Downtown to the lost and found
Where all that's lost is left
She went on and on about her doodle
Like a long lost friend
She asked the lass behind the desk
If she'd ever see her doodle again
The lass asked the doodles color scheme
And how large it was in size
Seems people lose their doodles often
If not most all the time
When they handed her her doodle back
There really wasn't much to say
As Polly Wolly and her doodle
Waddled arm in arm merrily away
Categories:
waddled, children, fun, nursery rhyme,
Form:
Rhyme
'Twas the night before Christmas
and there was a heat wave
Poor Santa's beard itched him
The man was dyin' for a shave
But I've got a brand to protect
He reasoned with mirth
As he glued on his fake beard
and adjusted his girth
So Santa waddled shed-ward
to saddle up the reindeer
When his eyes lit on a sight
that ruined his whole year
Now just what did he see
that disturbed him no end
Why, he saw Mrs. Claus
in the arms of ten men
Those new elves he'd just hired
Millennials all
Handsome as hell
Every one over six-foot tall
What could he do
'Twas time to depart
How could he go out there
with a big broken heart
'Folks,' Santa shouted
'Whatever this looks like --
No presents this year
~ 'I'm going on strike!'
November 21, 2019
The Night Before 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Joseph May
Categories:
waddled, christmas, silly,
Form:
Rhyme
Let me tell you a story
From a time gone by
The tale of a greedy butcher
And a pig that could fly
In the little village of Piddle Brook
There lived a butcher named Mr.Ham
He was bearded, bulky, and a belcher
And was rumored to eat his own toe jam
A lover of all meat
Pork,beef,duck,chicken, and mutton
All this gorger did was eat
He was a professional glutton
But Mr.Ham’s appetite was not satisfied
He longed for some thick greasy bacon
Just a few strips, nicely fried
Served with pickled daikon
He peeked through his window
And with one beady eye
Spotted his neighbors hog
And pictured a flaky pork pie
His mouth watered
"What a delicious midnight snack!"
"I will barbecue,braise and fry her"
"But first I will launch my attack"
"Oh but I shan’t become a thief!"
"T’was only a whim!"
But Mr.Ham’s thin scruples vanished
His growling belly got the better of him
He grabbed a pitchfork
And the hefty hooligan set out
He advanced on the sleeping hog
And grabbed her by the snout
Her piggy eyes shot open
And in a flash
She darted past the butcher
And ran past the fence in a dash
Mr.Ham bellowed in rage
And waddled after the beast
But the pig was too quick
Yet Mr.Ham never ceased
And so the chase continued
A wild game of cat and mouse
They ran through the streets
Row upon row,house after house
Finally the swine was cornered
The escaped pig let out a squeal
And great feathery wings sprouted from her back
Said the pig “Thou shalt not steal”
And with one final snort
Two leaps and a hop
The winged sow flew away
And Mr. Ham collapsed with a plop
"I suppose it was a sign from above"
Mr.Ham sighed with defeat
From then on the rotund carnivore
Gave up on eating meat
Categories:
waddled, animal, fantasy, flying, food,
Form:
Ballad
A Night On The Town
While searching for a book, one that I hadn’t yet read
I stumbled upon a critter and this is what he said:
Although the library is quite cozy and nice;
Could you fancy a night out for the right price?
Howsabout we meet by the bibliotheca shrub?
A groundhog as I adores a good Punxsy pub.
Grab your coat and throw on your hat.
I’m ready to have a friendly chat.
I looked him in the eye and asked him his name
With delight, he said,
“You’re unaware of my fame.
My friends call me Phil, so I suppose you should too
Let’s blow this joint”
And away we flew
We wandered the streets of this charming town
Visiting shops and pubs, up the street and down
We feasted on grub and guzzled much drink
Then, Phil looked at me with a very hard think
“My friend, it’s been fun but it’s three in the morning.”
And he tottered down the street without any warning
I watched as he burrowed under the library steps
Down on my knees and behind him I crept
His words fell on my ears as he waddled out of sight
“My friend, it’s time for you to go as the sun soon brings light.
You see, I don’t mean to complicate.
But in the morning, I must prognosticate.
Meet me again: fight your way through the mob.
That tree over there; in Gobblers knob.
In just a few hours, at the light of the day;
Meet me again; and don’t delay.”
I did just that; I waited on the lawn
When Phil came out with a stretch and a yawn
With a wink and a smile, his eyes met me with regard
Then a man handed me a note. His name was Gerard.
“This note is from Phil. Don’t tell anyone he can talk, or find you I will.”
I took the note from this cryptic subversive
And found it to be written in splendid cursive
"Thank you for the night, full of libations and cheer
Let’s do it all again. Meet me same time next year."
Categories:
waddled, humor,
Form:
Light Verse
The Nest
I first saw the hen as she flew
Up to the raised bed in front of the school.
I thought it was odd she was there,
With so much activity at the entrance.
The second time I saw her,
I decided to see what she was up to.
Imagine my surprise when I found
A cleverly hidden nest containing ten eggs.
I questioned her choice of location,
But, what do I know about building a nest?
I watched closely from the window for a week.
But now, so did others.
The kids were bright, and nosey.
Soon, several knew the secret.
When I came to school on Monday,
I found the eggs had been thrown
About the drive and against the brick.
The efforts of the expectant hen and drake
Had been spoiled by someone.
I could almost understand if it had
Been a skunk or possum that
Needed the eggs for survival.
But to be wasted…was senseless!
If you know anything about school and kids,
You know that someone came to me with a name.
And that person gave me another name.
Soon, I had three kids in my office.
And a choice to make…
Should I break them like the eggs
They had strewn and spoiled?
Or, should I protect them and watch
Them grow as I would the duckling
Had they hatched?
And then, on cue, the pair flew down
From the nest and waddled away
From their loss.
I watched with the children,
And after a few moments,
Made an observation.
“They’re just like parents… walking away
From the spot where they lost their
Entire family…Every child…
Imagine how they must feel!”
Their eyes filled with tears.
They left my office with compassion,
And, a newly acquired appreciation of nature…
The nest was not a total loss.
Categories:
waddled, animals, education, natureschool, me,
Form:
Free verse
With one stocking up and the other rolled down
the old lady waddled her way to town.
Her flowered dress sported stains of breakfast.
Her hair was matted, like a birds nest.
Lipstick circled her lips, like a circus clown.
The painted smile veiled depression and a frown.
While quizzically looking up at her face,
the small boy clutching her hand tried to keep pace.
As she shuffled her way down main street,
she chatted with anyone she chanced to meet.
Often she would point with pride
to small boy by her side
As the boy grew older, he began wondering
why she couldn’t tell they were pretending.
Couldn’t she hear their humoring lies?
Couldn’t she see the laughter in their eyes?
Couldn’t she sense the embarrassment in the air?
Perhaps she couldn’t care? Perhaps she wasn’t aware?
Being locked in a child like state
may not be the worst fate,
Because children can make up places
where there are no staring faces.
Categories:
waddled, grandmother,
Form:
Free verse