Bewilder Poems

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Déjà vu, a strange, fleeting sensation—moment eerily familiar,
Parallel realities bleed into one another, align, and then bewilder.

The Freedom Flotilla

This is no pleasure trip, no voyage for the weak-hearted. 
The activists singing, holding arms, like birds in the trees, 
those in awe of morning’s glory, in a dolphin-crowded sea,
mantle of intellect, a true heroic affair.
They have a ship load of food and medicine, a holy mission
to the chagrin of warmongers and their media culprits.

To the shores of Gaza they sail, 
Where flesh is burnt like used tires,
monuments of barbarism.
Bewilder them till they die!
At night the stars come out into 
this artifice of humanity, caught in the web of
an unspeakable tragedy. 
Alas, the flotilla is interdicted, freedom is not,
sailing past the deceits, the barricades, the barb wires,
And the AI-guided bombs.   
Freedom is never negotiated on high seas, commands
all the waves to safety.*

Dedicated to Greta and her comrades

dare Angel

Dear Angel,
I dare you, shimmering…glimmering star
To shine anew where you are
Dare Angel, so true
Who knew, who’d knew
You were the color of cyan 
I will be your man
I will be having my tan 
Dare to wonder
Dare to wander
Dare to ponder
What lies ahead? Think of the present instead of the past of dread
Venturing through my vortex 
Of perplexing flexing mentally
Bewilder me
Wanderlust be
You are you and I am I 
Let’s die alive tonight, tonight, tonight
You are outgoing and I am shy
Maybe I’ll love you with my might
You dare angel of ardent adventure, legacies of lament and journey of joy…a voyage of valleys and majestic mountains above

Ruse

It was all a big massive ruse,
Meant to bewilder and confuse.

Discombobulation: A Word

What sorts a box -- an enigma,
of course, what else has sauce,
when it apprised of a stigma
it eyes wherefrom the source.
Taste, touch, ... senses play the fiddle
minus some chords, off-tunes,
wayward announces a riddle,
classic ... playing the blues.

Discombobulation, a word
that creates attention,
it's a doer, that is absurd,
a giver of mention,
need not be lengthy, quite disturbed,
more elementary,
there lies the mix, that's somewhat blurred,
most complimentary.

Shorten won't baffle, nor ruffle,
may muddle or addle,
there are trickery, kerfuffle --
but snooze in a cradle,
grounds content, shovel the gravel,
make it your battleground,
make confound this awkward puzzle
by day's end be profound.

Hope that it resolves this fluster,
that sets unease, evolves,
make it a game, a tongue twister,
keep watch till it dissolves,
It'll be a throwback, bewilder
if it grows, we'll keep track,
discombobulation, blister,
made it less from perplex.

Cloudless Tears

Written: September 13, 2023
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Through cloudless weeps, my pen glides.
Trace severe, dense whispers of afire minds.
Under the brisk beams of the Autumn sun.
Anguish is my tapestry, where sobs flow a ton. 

Upon a cheek where tears have already stained,
I paint a portrait of sorrow, in shades of disdain.
The sallow skin, marked by the weight of despair,
Reflects the anguish of a soul left threadbare.

Through cloudless tears, my pen bear flight.
To bewilder the core of souls, ailed and contrite.
I investigate experiencing anguish and strife.
Bestow light to the stories of a broken life. 

Weeping clouds amass, ready to wash away 
The burning tears, the wounds that never sway.
Their sacred endeavor, to cleanse and heal,
To suggest solace and an opportunity to feel. 

Through cloudless tears, my pen flies around.
The intention of referring to the night wound.
So that the oppressed and laconic can speak,
That society's covert truths be made public.

Seasons Awry

In summer we shatter into pieces of grief 
          In autumn we decay as a fallen leaf

Mizzling rain that dribbles down begrimed window pane
                    Binds me to the chain of an old memory lane

Making balance betwixt two way traffic of solace and pain
       like cold blooded amphibians and fishes that are tame

Sheperd that stands on the bridge betwixt life and death
     Playing flute with petrichor emanating through breath

Taste of green chillies burn,bloom of lillies bewilder
                 Come,as the new rainbow,as the rebuilder

     In winter we melt as white sheet of snow ,and disappear
 and again we condense like colourless water,and reappear

In spring we renew with heather, hopes and flowers
        to fly our kites high above clouds and showers

Written:05-06-2023

Grow Together

At our very first encounter I sat with thirst to pour seriously over our future

By the hour every burst of bewilder would grow stronger as our curiosity grew together 

We’ve grown together I’m a believer we’ll own forever together 

You please me as my reprieve and relieve all that needs to alieve

We’ve continued to achieve as you’re my retreat, my fleet, my heartbeat and I’ll be the barkeep

I adore the contour of our flavor Kenlee and Marshall will savor

What’s in store is a stower of our growth grown together

You’re my savior I abhor any old bore to blunder forevermore foreclosure of that door 

Enticement turned excitement and galore as we learned to grow together 

I want to grow old together and mold our souls as one solar

Our love runs up to the uppermost poles like northern growth

Your glove stuns to the utmost it’s been long since I’ve l known I want to sew and stitch our souls to grow together

Such Ancient Stars

Such ancient stars so nightly nigh
may seem, while viewed through aided eye,
that we can only wonder where
or if they shone on beings there
who once won out to do or die

within a when so long gone by
as to bewilder with a sigh
our visioning from earthly lair
such ancient stars.

Though sight we might yet amplify,
our senseless senses often lie.
While animals with talents rare,
in seeing self, we’re unaware,
albeit telescopes descry
such ancient stars.


~ Harley White


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The poem is in the form of a rondeau…

A source of inspiration was the following…

Info and image ~ A collection of ancient stars…

The Dark Gives You Sight

Darkness triggers the mind to see,
if we have that kind of trigger.

The light can blind.
Respect the depth
of the unlit.

Fast-food drive-thru's
after 3 AM in the morning
at midday driving into the sun...
sun and neon
can bewilder shallow eyes.

How deep is the dark?
The more we fear to enter
the deeper it gets -

that kind of darkness
is within,
if we are aware
of that kind of within-ness.

We're deeper than we know
or yet more shallow.

Writer-Lover

If words inscribed by me can make him agonize, 
I'll let him feel. 
For I can't hurt him the way he does.
If he refuses to confine by my love,
I will not try to bewilder him by my mortal beauty,
rather let him be confined by my verse.
If still, he doesn't reciprocate,
then he is not the connoisseur 
I have sought to converse.

If You Only Have Hammers

If good things come to those who wait full term,
Then why is the early bird getting the worm?

They say not to beat horses already dead,
But will it hurt much to speak ill instead?

The world is a nail if you only have hammers.
If the world is your oyster, is ‘shucks’ in your grammar?
If the world is a stage, do scared oysters stammer? 

If not letting a sleeping dog lie is uncouth
How sure are we barking dogs will tell the truth?

If it isn’t about whether we win or lose
Can we skip slow, steady, go fast if we choose?

These darned aphorisms bewilder, confuse
Don’t judge by their cover, walk a mile in their shoes.

Foreign Hitherto

Pushing cascades crest bastion, stomach lost
    Largesse spread wafts orange blossom bridal
    Bestows clouds let go to marshmallow moss
    Fearless flight crinoline crash vertical


    In gospel gothic deep chasm, drunk mink swims
    Stirring fate, bleeding tea leaves bewilder
    Leather gil quiver, loaded to the brim
    Goddess mink Milda, silk coat cylinder


    Poison spore auburn myrrh lassoo arrows
    Immune audine preened, unwitting Otto
    Seduced by sadist, dart sought embargo
    Incapacitated poderoso


    Discharged firearm, struck futile, fratenised
    Love liege embalms gun powder, satisfied




            Ninth February 
              Hijacked by 
             Milda Audine

Sitting In Thoughts

Sitting in Thoughts

I’m sitting here in my easy chair
Running thoughts throughout my mind,
Which, while it accepts them all,
Discards them and knows all about them.
It knows why I have this thought
Or I have some other thought
Or I even have multiple thoughts 
At one time.
And I’m sure I bewilder it many times
When I am sitting in my easy chair, 
Just thinking. 
My mind and I are buddies
And it helps keep me on the straight 
And narrow
Of what’s next
To think about and do.

W.C.Hull © 2020-

Reading Love

Love is always changing…growing…it comes in many shapes and sizes
It can bewilder…it can excite…it’s full of wonder and surprises.

It is associated with our hopes, our dreams, our wishes and our needs
and is inextricably linked…with are ability to read…

When we are children…we learn to read the faces of our loved ones…who we see…our parents…our brothers and sisters…members of our family.

When we move away from our family…into the world outside our door…we learn to read love in many different languages…than we ever thought before.

Still a little older yet…we find love can be confusing…and often difficult to read…it can make us happy causing us to smile…or sad causing us to bleed.

We spend many of our adult years seeing how life and love are intertwined
understanding a lot of our time in love is spent trying to read between the lines.

But love softens and illuminates when we’re older…
we begin to cherish it more as art…
for now we are able to sit together 
in silence…
and read each other’s heart.

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