Fazed Poems | Examples

The Origin

The Origin - Oloibiri

We all poise 
ushering in 
our plots, stage and play 
ushering in the birth of a phase 
Where all 
have become fazed 
A place of fame 
now erased 
a lurking abode 
marrying a mirage into reality 
smeared with a tainted face 
faux words 
and dangling puppets 
rotating with the stale wind

Raindrops on roses

The ocean, rivers and lakes. 
All bring joy to me. 
I live seaside, hear its call. 
To be wet, wild, free. 
Feeling so amazed. 
To swim, fish, sail, gawk and walk, 
With water I'm fazed.

Hourglass

Hourglass

The sun has become dimmed 
with each step
the pathways seem endless 
He is dazed
even as his mind is fazed
He loafs 
as a floating leaf
romancing the breezy wind
He is immersed in simmering waters
doused with flickering hopes
drums to the echoes of yesterday
dances to the clanging fetters
beckons to the fastened doors
staggers through the mocking maze
He fidgets, longing, 
watching for the hourglass. 




He fidgets, longing, 
watching for the hourglass.

Brassiere

Buxom Barbara burned her bra
never again lift and separate
or cross your heart to contemplate
she likes to feel her bosom counts
when flouncing down the boulevard
Barb now snags more bounce to the ounce
abroad in the world without a single care
it never fazed her one bit nor a whit
when this would jounce most men to stop and stare
as if they'd not seen such before
and she'd trounce 'em should they dare to pounce
a crystal-clear case of less is more

My Own Personal Hell

What have I created?

I look in the eyes of the devils kin everyday,
	yet it has not fazed me until that day.

This man, 
	who claims to love and care for me,
Has brought me to tears more than I can count

But you see,
	I’ve made him this way
					he claims.

I am ungrateful.
I am selfish.
I am rude.
I am a dishonorable person.

I am untrustworthy.
I am narcissistic.
I am unclean.

But you see,
	this man has sinned more than me.

This man speaks of stories that 
	are far to gruesome for anyone to hear.

I’ve made him this way,
		he claims.

Yet he speaks that he was like this
	before I was a thought.

It was as if the devil came to his hospital room and claimed him as his own.

This man, 
	who I cannot seem to understand.

Seems to not understand me as well.

What have I created.

Fulfilment

Cross landscape high and low,
light candle of hope, walk fazed life through darkness grime,
let it glow.

New sun will rise,
show path of success at right time…
surprise.

Derive
pleasure sublime…
thrive.

Cross landscape high and low,
new sun will rise…
thrive.

A Pale Image of A New Life

Teresa of Ávila
Dreamt the passion of God.

A physical fire 
Burned an image of his power.

An image I envisioned was one so dull 
Full of pain
A nightmare stabbing my mind's eye.

A frail image of my mother
Some quivering voice I remember
In my dimension of inception
That my mother was at her end.

A disruptive anxiety burdens a peace
But that day, it was at bay.

Paralysed by a hidden sight that I couldn't bear
Petrified by a dream, one that was so rare.

This despicable numbness I endure
Sympathises the fools of fiction.

As reality shapes its needle
To fill with its anaesthesia of truth
And inject into those who walk in wonder.

Today, I trudged through that trail 
Of some twenty-fourth year 
My Lucky Strike ablaze 
And my hands on the balcony window.

Experiencing no sore throat
That I remembered from youth,

Only a deep sensation of numbed limbs
Suffering this cold spring night.

Even the cigarette wasn't fazed 
Of the wind’s devouring passion
Blowing its burning ashes.

Darkness

There is a darkness that light cannot find
Perhaps neurological: all in the mind
nevertheless, it's a  most spooky place
housing strange shapes of forgotten disgrace.

Yet, once in a while, I will journey there
often to disarm an ugly new scare.
The last time I went there, I met a man
who dwells in the darkness by his own plan

The light hurts his eyes; it should hurt our''s, too
it shows the wrongs we can never undo
It's best, he says, to avoid all the light
and keep our demons safely out of sight

You now know my story (I might be dazed)
because by the dark, I'm no longer fazed
If I've wronged someone, please accept my shame
I didn't do it, my mind is to blame.

The Butterfly

I looked out my window,
	At the gloomy grey sky.
When I saw a butterfly,
	Flitting blissfully by.

Unfettered by worries,
	Not shackled by woe,
A blithe Lepidoptera,
	And its aerial show.

The patter of raindrops,
	Fazed it not a bit,
Blithely it glided,
	On my window did sit.

Ever so nonchalantly,
	It fluttered its wings.
Not a care in the world,
	What a fortunate thing!

 If only my soul,
	Could a butterfly be.
Gallivant in my small world,
	Unburdened and free!

The Act

Act 1
A woman is walking down the street
After working a long day’s shift, she is exhausted
She reaches her house door and pulls out her keys
But they fall out of her hands 
Frustrated, she bends down to pick them up
When she hears ‘ Nice view, lets recreate that someday mama’
She’s not fazed
That man told her she looks nice
She smiles it off and enters her home
END SCENE

Peace

My heart at each breathe pace,
Is a rhythm which made it fazed .
what does it desire ? I ask.
Alas! No answer .

Is it that which the Giver didn't give? 
Is it that which if given silences the heart? 
Is it that which a whole life spam has been given to find? 
That which is not a star but far.

That which we represent with a white flag ? 
But no where to be found.
The heart of every man desires peace,
But that which the giver has seized.

Innocence

The past cannot be turned innocent-

Pain will always be acknowledged in moments of solitude. 

I can pretend that the present is not part of the aftermath. 

Grasping reality as if it is still trying to let go.

At times turning around, expecting voices to guide me. 

Fazed more by their absence than their old presence.

The Dance of Light

The candle was lit, as it’s wick turned black,
To light up the room, of a dark old shack.
Flickers and embers, would leave the wick,
Wax oozed down sides, the candle went thick.

The embers of gold, would spark in the air,
As mesmerised eyes, would stop and stare.
Fireflies of red, of golden and white,
Would begin the flame, that lit up the night.

The flame would dance, with twists and twirl,
With slight fresh breeze, the flame would curl.
It’s dance of energy, the light in the dark,
As it flickered and crackled, it’s body would arc.

The wax would pour, as the candle would shine, 
Creating wax legs, so delicate and fine,
As it pooled on a plate, and the candle grew small,
The light still shone, upon stone wall. 

A man came by, to say good night,
To the red, and golden, flickering light.
He blew the candle, and a stream of grey,
Would leave the wick, with no delay.

Light fazed out, and darkness crept in,
The candle would stand, it’s body grew thin.
The wax had set, upon its side,
The man said goodnight, on his bed he lied.

Muppet Crazy Harry

Muppet Crazy Harry does not seem as odd these days
Maybe because of so many fads and no one is ever fazed.
He pulled his tricks along with bizarre antics too.
Meant very little next to the world’s biggest hullaballoo.

You have to be even crazier, I gave Muppet Crazy Harry as advice.
I am being as off kilter as I can he said, warming up some Kona ice.
You have to step it up a notch, or two or three or four, I told him.
You have so much competition now, people do things on a whim.

Vibrancy of Silence

Desires created in the void
Manifest here, by which we’re toyed
Since our memory is erased
We’re not by pulse of love buoyed

By myriad illusions fazed
Fearful thought spirals have us dazed
Till we shift into staid silence
Whereupon we’re by joy throbs grazed

Rekindling flame of innocence 
Soul reveals it’s luminescence 
All doings are done, we are still
Heart’s love drenched, in bliss beat’s cadence

Aligning thus, with divine will
We’re receptive, so dark voids fill
Magnetised by bliss in fullness
As we’re shaped upon the anvil

We know life’s a dream in stillness 
When we’re entwined, with That oneness
Equal then through life’s highs and lows
We’re ensconced in love’s blissfulness 

Enabled thus, heart truly knows
How petal by petal, soul grows
We seek nothing, yet all is done
For we’re in the boat, that God rows

12-February-2022

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