Doodled Poems | Examples

Post-Its

Post-its, coat the
Brain I keep controlling 
sticking to my skull 
Without holding their notice 
Maybe I have spiraled out of focus
Leaving all my thoughts to obliterate my homage 
It's really you on my mind 
Your carving words Into my eyes 
Leaving notes on my spine 
As I gash into my thighs 
It’s really you on my mind
I scribbled nonsense on your veins 
You doodled through my tangled mane 
As the pages ripped 
Between words and skits 
Our seats became too distance
Too far to send our visions 
Of the present we desired and the past we wished to admire 
etched on crumpled stained paper that was soon to be waste  
Sprawled across an abandoned place that was meant to house the unworthy and the disgraced

State of Insanity

I’ve doodled and dawdled in Delaware,
Piddled in Pennsylvania without care,
I’ve been to New York and Alabama,
Michigan, Missouri and Montana. 
I’ve travelled in every state, my friend,
And I can tell you that, in the end,
If you lose your mind - see how it can be - 
The very best one is insanity.

The Last Page

You were like the last page of an old notebook
Which I doodled on and scribbled on
Torn off 
So that others couldn’t see it 
Couldn’t peep in
To the place I displayed my soul on
A chapter better left close 
Never read and understood by someone not there
Hear me say it 
I wiped you off 
But not forgot 
What words those lines carried
Never forgot 
The sweet smell it was dipped in
Not when I turned it over and over again
And not when I left it in a bin.

Mother Nature Draws the Dawn

**  Mother Nature Draws the Dawn  **


Already, 
Dawn sets off 
This longitude’s waking,
Displaying nearby trees
Into their scribbled silhouettes
In shades
Of gray with blasts of black masses  — 
Points gathered
Fronting the quick brightening over
Yesterday’s leaving darkness, 
 And bringing forth this day’s white-glazed,
Cloud-faced sky —
Appearing before my sleepy eyes
Without any distinguishable color, and 
Simply seen as an unfoldng background — 
 A lightening
That shows even before the blendings —
With the coming gifts to sight
     Of the perception of dimensions
     And the aspects of perspective,
To be seen in the expanse beyond my window
In this dawning moment ~
As the world appears quite like 
A flattened Earth, 
    Like a doodled scene
Of blotches and specs — in
Mother Nature’s ink line & wash
Landscape
Created on her personal, unbordered paper.


———————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 8/17/2023
(For Jim. Happy 40th)

Scrawl

Slush coated figures
have been drawn on the sidewalk,
dribble people, their disjoined limbs
twisted into guesses to be pecked over
by hammer driven beaks.

After the hard-packed snow
acrobats were doodled flying slipshod 
below a trapezing wind. 

If the frigid sky were a wall
its graffiti would spray can itself.

Here on the pavement the 20 questions
party game is in full swing.
Prompted by the ice art, we ask:
“Is it a place?”
“Is It an object?”
“Is it real or fictional?”

The answer to all these questions
is “YES.”

Meanwhile the swirling unfurling of meaning
still has legs
until feral pigeon wings sweep
even those last appendages away.

What is left
once meant a fleeting abstract something
but that was before
the concrete forgot how to read itself,
and the sky grew too puzzled
to play anymore.

Higgins

Higgins was the worst Math teacher,
and that year I was his worse student.

Higgins had loose blubbery lips.
When he taught long division or algebra
his words were full of spit
and phlegm.

Higgins had big feet and he carried a large
thick-soled sneaker
which he threw at slow thinkers
It hurt
especially if hit by it 3 times in one lesson,
especially since we had to pick the damn thing up
and hand it back to him
especially when he loomed over you glaring,
daring you to be a wiseass.

Higgins was really very big
his massive form always intimating
to young minds.

Mostly I just doodled his form
on my school math book.
Happy to flunk any test of his.

Once I drew him naked,
his fat backside bouncing on the back
of a spavined mule.
Underneath this masterpiece I wrote
'It hurts don't it?'

Sadly he had snuck up behind me
too late
I felt his hot breath
drooling down the back of my neck.

Higgins was hit by a bus,
but that was years later.
When I heard
I felt sorry for the bus.

Behold the Workings

A spider thin calligraphy, a varicose script
upon the shallow sheen of mortality.

Are these the genetics of a divine act
arriving as green stems,
weeds and blooms all in a tangle?
A scratchy nib of doodled ideas?

Behold the dying and the replenishing,
the glory of the shedding.
All this upon a tumbled forest floor
where imagination plods daily.

More marks upon a blank page
developing slow
in the low light of scribbled thoughts.
More night flowerings and late sweepings.

Doodles

My notebooks were once filled with doodles
Adorning the margins; in class
I doodled when bored at a lecture,
When minutes took hours to pass.

My squiggles and boxes repeated;
They weren’t worth even a glance
But, along with my painstaking scribble,
They filled up the paper’s expanse.

Years later, at times when I’m Zooming,
My thoughts from the topic removed,
I find myself doodling idly,
Those squiggles and such not improved.

Collection

She collected her names, family’s names,
friends’ names, strangers’ names,
and everything which had a name.
Her mind was like a basket,
able to compress all the names to threads;
the threads were too many that they doodled
creating knots.
“I can see you are tied up!”
her husband tells her as she tries to untie his tie.


Published on: 16/02/2021

Polly

Polly Wolly doodled all the day
'til a fat man stepped into the fray
He said the river meets the shore
like it has always done before
So Polly doesn't do that
anymore

3-6-20
Contest: Inky Dinky Parlay Voo
Sponsor: Caren Krutsinger

Saving Grace

Wending her way westward, wafted on whispering wings
   Sailing serenely southward, slithering past secluded scenes
Nudging northward, noticing narrow, noctilucent moonbeams
   Edging effortlessly eastward, entering ecstasy's eerie baleen...

Grace dillied and dallied, then dithered and doodled and dozed
   Could Heaven's Handiwork save her? ~ Neither angels nor seraphs know

My Mind

Thoughts and ideas are entangled 
within and inside doodled concepts
that tie and cross themselves,
in a fashion I cannot comprehend
sometimes.
Often I meditate and reflect,
to get all my thoughts together,
like kinda looking for a needle
in a haystack....

Destiny

divine destiny
 
decided before birth

delivered on life’s course

determines life on earth

designates direction

or

doubts after choices 

doodled guilt maybes

disturbed self-image 

desires need to believe

destiny caused everything

The Kid Named Not Me

There's a new kid at home, 
One nobody sees 
But we all know he's there. 
His name is Not Me. 

He took out all my colors 
And doodled on the wall. 
You can tell from how high he reached 
He isn't very tall. 

When my mom asked, 
"Whose art work can this be?"
The answer was unanimous. 
We all said, "Not Me!" 

Not Me is very naughty. 
He always makes a mess, 
And what he did with Sister's doll 
Is anybody's guess! 


He ruined Mommy's makeup. 
He messed up Daddy's hat. 
He even cut my bed sheets. 
Now, how bad was that? 

And when he takes a bath 
He gets water on the floor. 
And just last night 
He got toothpaste on the door. 

He spilled Kool-Aid on the carpet 
And broke some dishes in the sink. 
He left the milk out on the counter 
So now there's none to drink. 

When something's going wrong 
And Mom's angry as can be, 
You can always be sure he did it- 
That kid named Not Me.

jsc.2004

This was written when my children were small and yes I read it to them often. Not me lived in my house for many Years and still makes an occasional visit.

Merci

Words shy away.
Emotions taunting me.
Heart is overwhelmed,
Stifling my pain
Just doodled, thoughts.
Feels good, yes.

Thanks for the win.
It’s not just mine.
Ours for poems.
World needs more,
Not just poems.
Much is unsaid.

Saved in my  notes
My delirious mind
Hurt felt for others
empathy penned
My one and only friend,
my secrets divulged.
Posted my doodling
her pleasure, I did not deny.

Response, was warm and nice.
Even now cannot comprehend.
I woke, from my slumber,
doodling more and more.
Life goes on day after day
Cannot stop my passion’s spate

Thanks to the sponsor,
they  really motivates self.
Winners all, till we stop to pen.
Thanks to poetrysoup,
For lending its stage.

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