Dizzied Poems | Examples

Breathe

Bittersweet, sorrowful, the air tonight tasted.
A gentle breeze swirled around and into me.
With each breath, I drank in the ambiance-
Fragrant, the autumn evening rushed me;
a smooth and potent red wine that
opened my disillusioned consciousness.
I surrendered my grief to the enchanted darkness.
My senses were dazzled and dizzied;
I couldn’t help but to drift away, freely,
under the guise of exaltation.
The strange panacean filled me up 
unlike any concoction I’ve ever known.
When the candles burned out and the sun rose,
the night fully possessed me.
Intoxication metamorphosed my being;
with an ever vanishing respire,
I withdrew further into the shadows-
Inhaled, I fell into its misty rapture.
Exhaled, I became a part of the velum.

Keep On Hugging

We always do!
Well, maybe we shouldn't...
I cherish hugs from you!
Today, it just isn't prudent...

Forget what is on the news!
I'm dizzied, from the media spin...
We have the right to choose!
Arms embrace, sparkling within...

Don't allow such grievous stories
Rob us of love's simple glories!

April Fawn

Longing in lowly light of longer days
by which a summer wilts paternal dreams
and browns the loitered heaves of yellow spring:

the budding void that stamps an empty swing
seen swaying golden locks ungated beams
my own Begotten streamed in greener dawn
where fussy forums for an April fawn

allay no muttered march on mother’s May.

Persistent blades unsheathe the sprawling grass
beneath the blue release of silver dew -
an inch overgrown, as inch shrouded cool
billows: arisen reeds from dizzied drool
showing flashes of reincarnation
cured by the rose (or purple carnation)

4/4/17

And In Words, She Blooms

Her curves are rinsing their endless constellation
beneath hot rainfalls of white shower steam,
which is why I stand quiet, sinfully agape even
and willfully paralyzed by an ambrosia of slender echoes.
A drunken prize fighter, dazed by countless punches I spin
from the twirling parasol of her sexy, fitted hips-- when finally, 
as the winds of lust muffle in her bath towel, she chuckles
her red-petal lips contour the silent words.. “I love you”  
I'm hit by the crack of thunder that that stops everything
dizzied by the just-popped blossom that steals all the newborn light,
the kind that even moribund butterflies take drifting detours to see
before their wings lose all starlit desires to fly above the soil.
Here.. somehow.. in the question mark of my good fortune
she stands like a bouquet of lightning, catching, and natural.
Her light tips over a glass of my words, spilling incoherence everywhere 
my senses scramble to pick up scattered bits of tongue-tied sweet talk
but I admit defeat, I admit hilarious defeat.
I turn ten shades of red, still-- after six years of marriage
I am the thorn-- she is the rose-- and together we make love.


August 23, 2016

Hostage Taker

He snatched me, cuddled me, 
A straying lamb in the wild.  
I peeked into his eyes; a flame danced.
I cupped my mouth, mumbled: 
In love with me! 

He pressed me to his heart; 
Kissed my boney cheek. 
I stink, don't I? My lips trembled.
He whispered: To clean you up, 
My love; that's why I came.
My love ... Me! I began to shiver.

His face gleamed, You're mine. 
I, a hostage! My eyes bulged.
I wriggled, tried to get off him; 
His arms tightened, nestling me. 
I wanted to cry, my voice vanished.

Giant eagle clutching a prey, he lifted. 
We soared, I dizzied, the wild receding. 
Still dazed, I clung, clenched my eyes 
Till we punched through the clouds. 

I peeped, looked around; dark cloud below, 
The blue above. I squinted at him. You, saved me!  
He smiled: I've searched for you!  
Warm tears crawled down my cheeks.


© 2013 Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi

Boredom After Boredom

Boredom after boredom
As the bitter contents of life unfold,
And mortals wind their way home
To mark the end of their earthly lease.

Turning and turning around the selfsame path
Through the predetermined arcs of fortune and fate,
Dizzied by the opium of struggle till the last of breath,
To answer unknown judgments, to face the incorruptible jury.

Who will the future foretell and inform mortals of their fate
And alleviate their confusion, and get things clear and straight.

The Killer In Wait

He's been dizzied by the changes
     through which night and day revolve,
His heart's been captured by conflicts
     nobody dares to resolve.
Has looked upon that well lit path
     which would lead him to the truth,
Yet lives amongst the shadows held
     in a disappearing youth.

There are sins within his conscience
     that he has never denied,
And sermons by much younger fools
     are now harder to abide.
The winds of change seem to shift
     much too fast for aging eyes,
Has chained himself to memories
     on which his life now relies.

Has always wondered about love
     though he's never felt its touch,
Can't recall a mother's embrace
     or a young girl's awkward clutch.
There's no one in this old folks home
     that can understand his pain,
And no one here can realize
     what's coming with tonight's rain.

An broken wheelchair by the wall,
     he sits lifeless in the seat,
One shotgun and two forty-fives
     now lay silent at his feet.
At the end of the body count
     they said they found thirty four,
Had he been twenty years more young,
     might have got a whole lot more.

The Storm

Claps of thunder, growling sighs
Crackling light spears, ruptured skies
Dark bruised smudges, jostling clouds
Wanton weaving, angry shrouds.

Water effusions, driving rain
Flooded fields, congested drains
Forcible winds, quaking leaves
Bending branches, bowing trees.

Birds are silent, shy dogs hide
Children reach for sheltering sides
Fish dive deeply, spiders curl
Senses dizzied, fearful swirls. 

Clouds are broken, grinning sun
Arching eyebrow, rainbow tongue
Storm is humbled, joyous sounds
Love runs rampart, peace abounds

What There Is To Be Said of Home

from: "Me to You", by Alastair Reid

"...write me about the weather.

Perhaps
a letter across water,
something like this, but better,
would almost take us strangely
closer to home.

Write, and I'll come."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Monterrey, Nuevo Leon


Dizzied by the whirl of crowds
On sidewalks, seen through windows --
Reflected in mirrored, columned walls --
I drink, I eat, I mull and fret, I yearn,
Little lulled by homely music
Softly playing beneath sonorous
Strains of Spanish
(Beautiful tongue, not yet my own,
But now not strange to me --
Not wholly foreign.)
I sneak sidelong glances, I peek, I stare.
I feign indifference:
A pseudo-cosmopolitan air.
I am quiet and excessively polite,
Not yet knowing how to be rude
In this still stiff idiom.
And, I am intensely lonely --
Hungry for a caressing, offhand phrase,
Only a stray familiar word, hardly heard,
Whispering all there is to say of home.

Carnival

CARNIVAL

Masquerade
Passing parade
Behind the faces –
What?
Dizzied bright
Synthetic light
Synthetic everything!

Robotics
The mystery
What you see?
Now!
Straight forward
You hip!
You hip!
You left    right    left!

Words can kill
Silence is telling
Behind the faces-
What?
Which one?
Which one has murdered someone?
Which    unknown     has been reborn ‘neath a star?
Masquerade.
Hundreds on parade
Carnival!

Unwrapped Claymore

Again I bend to kiss this  blade
Then face the winds of Change in steadfast resolution
Whisperings of vows long made
Spin in dizzied revolution
Old and weary wrinkles fade
In face of coming restitution
Tis now my turn to face the night
and at long last to know what's right
Freedom's been a constant fight
Worth every dancing minute
To earn a living in it

Information Technology

Inside/Outside
Maze of life, Mirror of thought
Brain symbiosis on bureaucratic 
Check the bank 
The recognition dizzied, paralyzed

Come thunder to break the ice
Come harpoon to cut control 
Bring spirit underground
Where echoed sounds still resound

Love reigns in wet drops
Love conquers all shields

Dancing Dead

You are always 
Dancing dead on the inside.
Lots of drugs swimming with lots of alcohol, 
Moving your feet to the beat you taste
But not the beat you feel.

You are always
Dancing dead on the inside
And beyond the point of feeling—
Comfortably numb from dizzied head to heart, 
Laughing at dry jokes
To conceal the refuge of Indifference in your mind.

You are dancing dead
While I sit here, attentive, 
Absorbing every blow
That comes from the mixing of your sweat
With the perfume of a compromised girl.

Dance dead.
Lift your feet just a little higher.
Stumble, intoxicated, from p.m. to a.m. 
Crowd surf—
Anything is possible when you’re seeing double
Except for finding stable ground

When you are dancing dead
Everything embodies perfection
From the blaring speakers
To the garbage bag that becomes the saviour
Of the laundry on your floor—

You are always 
Dancing dead in this shape shifting cave
Where shadows of the drunk and drugged
Flicker ominously on the rocky walls—
Where we never look behind us
To see the light.

Vertigo

it's cooling my nape, 
this damp collar 
of my coat.

by neither water nor gale 
i'm cast adrift, 
set afloat.

the ocean swells in my mind, 
my shrunken brain 
starts to bloat.

dizzied by the toss and yaw 
of my imaginary 
boat!

Lone Prairie Hymns

aboriginal saintly crickets painted
 in thier red dust bleached masquera
 jump jubilently in the drygrass.

 dark yellow paint chips erode away 
 on a lone steeple house.
 they fall to the ground like scorched 
 pigments off of a dusty wrinkeled brow.

 inside walking around on creeky floorboards 
 an array of bearded bright eyed bootstraped
  men fellowship. 
 
dizzied daylight creeks through an 
old clanky fan on a window pane. 
it  harmonizes slowly with the 
houses of the native holy sons 
and daughters,  who create an 
 original psalm.

• Short Dizzied Poems
• Famous Dizzied Poems
• Best Dizzied Poems
• Read Dizzied Poems
• Long Dizzied Poems
• Dizzied Quotes