Dithering Poems | Examples

Allocation, Ally

Allocation, O ally?
Resources put where?
In the heads of those who fly?
Worry, hast thou care?

O ye spirits, I collect!
End Times, be my Muse!
Golden gods to genuflect?
Dare to disabuse!

Wrath of wind, thy cyclone?
It really must blow in.
Heaven and Hell, hie to hone!
Drenching downpour, din!

Ramparts of old castle?
They're slippery when wet.
Gods of death, call thy vassal!
How could we forget?

Tomb of ancient pharaoh?
A curse is on the door.
Folly thus to enter? Go?
Doom, thy pinafore!

Mercenary armies!
Become, O lords of hell!
Storm from thy cemeteries!
Legions, lead thee well!

Soar, O mighty eagles!
O parapets, take heed:
Fate and Fortune, full the fools!
Grind them in their greed!

Ache in heart of bygone race?
Lulled within thy chase.
Dithering is thy disgrace!
Seize the skin of face...

LOST

Lost in echoes of darkened time
dampened, dithering, dazed
wet withered witches mime a dime
fearful, I’m mazed or crazed 

Calling Divinity, voicebox shut
eyelids glued, nostrils stuffed 
lips zipped with copper thread
eardrums worrisome waned

Where are chiming confluent clocks
highways and internet ?
shadows dim whisper, “badly blocked,
pointless you bet, get set !”

Surely I paid every debt
learnt my lessons very well
trusted faith, no futile fracas
rose from every slothful rut ~

LOST, part of adventurous life
to find own lucid laws
undoing inner sceptic strife
opens all barred doors …

Poetry

In my house there are many windows
I await the shimmering light
to warm my poems
but I am stuck for inspiration
I await for nature
just some simple lea
with truncated river
dithering away listlessly
under azure sky
or a poem about a 
sun baked hippopotamus
under surveillance
of a tourist truck

canvas

I made some mistakes, let my head get straight to jealousy
One thing I could never get over was that instinctive tendency

I was the easel to your painting, the necessity but not necessarily
You leaned against my support, just to fold me up and discard, victim of your dissection

Strokes fulfilling your streaks of confidence, unfinished to perfection
The easel of your time until my predecease
Paintings can’t revert 
Easels are reusable
I’ll support a new masterpiece

The nails and screws holding me together are withering
Unable to decide between beauty and grace, cyclically dithering
I don’t want to make the same mistakes 
Gambling my love for you in sweepstakes

A Readjustment Challenge

Simply switching to a new phase,
Humbert finds himself in a new maze,
His face a great mask of blank gaze,
To all the asked questions Quick Nays. 

Humbert tries The New Untried Ways 
And it is a champ’s blows that daze, 
Humbert badly turning sideways 
Like the punch-drunk listless for days.

Big dreams to again the trail blaze, 
For seen Humbert had better days; 
Still the dithering mind - he strays 
While Pure Standards he hopes to raise…
 
Of the things we should their range know
Is readjustment’s – then, we go!

Apocalyptic Rituals

the nuclear snakes
   slither into disaster
warheads waiting 
   in the dithering wings

~~~!~~~X~~~#~~~>>>

light explodes
darkness erupts
fiery projectiles 
  obliterate without mercy



the reptilian warlords
  fumble through flames
apocalypse waiting
  amid withering declarations

Tipsy Hummingbird

Sunny summers day,
the month of July.
A tipsy hummingbird,
was trying to fly.
It had drank honey wine,
and couldn't find its timing.
That tipsy hummingbird.
Tumbled side winding.

One tipsy little bird,
such a sight to see.
crash landed badly,
plumb in front of me.
In a dithering spin,
it shook to catch wind,
promptly rolled over,
and flopped on its chin.

It did triple flips
some bicycle kicks.
This tipsy bird,
was doin the twist.
I grabbed my bandana,
to sop up the spittle.
Laughed as I cried,
big stitches in the middle.
within two quick minutes,
the whole episode was over.
Though it took another six
before I gained composure.

On a warm summer's day,
sunny month of July.
I was lucky to see,
a Tipsy Hummingbird Fly.

H.Elless
Poet

The Swim

I like to walk beside the sea
I find that it relaxes me
That is, until I decide
To take a plunge into the tide

This comes after careful thought 
(It's taken much longer than it ought) 
It looks inviting but.... is the water icy? 
I bet it is. Probably. Yes, definitely. Dicey. 

I keep on dithering what to do 
It's clouded over now and not so blue 
Should I get in oh-so-slowly, bit by bit 
Or just dive in and get it over with? 

I don't want to look like I'm not brave
Stifling screams I wade into the waves 
Now soaking wet and hair unflattering 
I'm shivering and my teeth are chattering 

I stagger out, puffed with pride 
It was worth the angst and I survived 
I remember the old saying now, and grin ... 
'It's all right - once you're in'

Zion Calls

A sanctuary waits for me
Beside a woodland stream;
Creatures chatter, beast and bird,
Dithering among the trees,
Engaged in nature’s repartee.
Fungi, moss, and flower
Gather in this shady, holy space,
Habitat of happy innocence,
Idyllic, secret forest glade.
Just let me linger in the quiet,
Kneel beneath the trees,
Listen to the lessons
Majestic nature speaks to me.
Noble trunks stretch upward,
Outward toward the sky,
Praising arms, uplifted, robed in
Queenly dress of leafy light.
Restorative peacefulness
Sweeps in sweet release,
Time’s tenacious grip relaxing,
Undisturbed, worldly discords cease.
Visitant I am within this wood,
Wistful, earthbound worshipper,
Xenophile, lover of heaven,
Yearning to go home.
Zion calls from where I bow.

May 22, 2022

A Conversation With Scrooge

‘Three ghosts Mr Scrooge? I find that so hard to believe,
That they might simply visit, to give you a reprieve!’
‘And the ghost of Jacob Marley, who’s been dead these past seven years
Transformed into a door knob, merely to add to your fears!’

‘I don’t expect you, good sir, to understand or comprehend,
Other than there is no earthly reason, why I should pretend 
Or put my reputation on the line, with such a sorry tale
But I assure you the new Scrooge, no soul shall derail’.

‘They say you’ve quite the benefactor, in the case of Tiny Tim
But is that to be ongoing or merely just a whim?
And It seems rather convenient that it should be Christmas time
That you positively decide to put your morals on the line!!

‘I wish you well good sir, I only ask that you be good 
And help this dithering old gentleman who never understood
Go about the important business of respecting festive cheer
That the ghosts bestowed upon me, to keep throughout the year! 

(Inspired by the book ‘A Christmas Carol’ written by Charles Dickens).


A conversation with a fictional character Poetry Contest
Date - 14th February
Sponsored by - Natasha L Scragg

Enroll Today

Delay no more.
Death is a wolf at your door,
when it breaks in
don’t be within dithering.
It has been wisely said:
‘that there are no atheists in fox holes.’
Enroll this instant,
even if you doubt,
feel ridiculous,
swear that you are too intelligent for this nonsense,
or feel too worthy or unworthy,
just enroll now.
What have you got to lose?
Don’t ask,
unless you want to test
the worst of your self
and lose the best.

To the Greatest of All Beings

Dear lord, 

I write this letter short, 
A psalm from my heart, 
To cherish what thy have passed
A gratitude for thy works. 

Forgive me, my lord
For when I have faltered, 
The days I spent in agony, 
When thy voice wouldn't reach me. 

For the torment I laid upon myself, 
Hardly a moment to breathe, 
For chasing away thy peace, 
You bestowed upon me. 

Forgive me for dithering thy grace, 
For doubting thy place, 
Father, your love is absolute, 
For so I thank thee, on this Christmas eve. 

Thank you for loving me like a child, 
Yet raising me to be a woman!
You are our savior on this dawn of storm, 
A keeper of our sinful souls. 

Never disregarding your children,
Always there, like a bird to her nestlings
Like a father to his daughters, 
Like a mother to her sons. 

This winter when snow shall reign, 
Painting all white and grey, 
I trust, you shall keep me warm
In your burrow safe. 


29/11/20
Christmas Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Regina McIntosh

Stopped Cold

What summer-wrecking melody
My irritation high
A tune familiar dithering
That truck soon passes by

All children trained to run away
Instead they chase him down
For frosty treats they gladly pay
The ice cream man’s in town


Fred Jagenberg – May 28, 2019

Sun Setting In Sea

SUN SETTING IN SEA  
                                                   
    Horizon beyond perception conjoining contour of sea with sky. 
    Simmering setting Sun scattering squashy rays on sea, 
    flashing golden glow on cerulean sky to blush,      
    pasting soft crimson patches in zest with brush of zephyr.
    Glistening spangles on rolling waves thrashing on shore.
   
   Tranquil twilight dwindling turning pale periwinkle.
   Weary albatross to fly towards nest for rest in slow moving dusk
   Whimsy torn clouds worn in droplets welcome eve on dusty mask.
   Stars still dithering to twinkle delaying dark.
  
  Serene Sun sinking in sea bidding bye to sky
  Supreme sublime soul slipping settling in ethereal ecstasy.

  04/24/20

  Second Place
                 'Slipping soul Sunsets in the Sea' Contest by Chantelle Anne Cooke

Now Here Comes Their Bleating - In Trump's Own Words Upon Acquittal

So many words, such boring waffle
Posturing peacocks, whispering snakes,
Actions so twisted doubtful if lawful
A bunch of connivers, dithering flakes.

In the House which they rule
They pointed and frowned
Lectures unending as if back at school,
Comments unwelcomed, arguments drowned.

Then to the Senate the matter was sent
Pelosi's grandstanding the Media in tow,
Swaying opinion her only intent
Her hands animated, her face all aglow.

But Mitch was just waiting,
Lurking, knives drawn,
Biding his time skillfully baiting,
For he had the Queen, they just the Pawn.

Here comes their bleating
Lost sheep wailing foul
They accuse us of cheating
Which makes me just howl.
Boy I like winning
It's such a huge high,
I so can't stop grinning
While watching them cry.

Now the deal's done
This farce put to bed,
I'll continue to stun
As I forge way ahead

They thought they could win
By playing the part
But if acting's a sin
I've mastered that art.

Another four years 
Of me and my tribe,
No matter their tears
To me they'll subscribe.

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