heart is prone to anticipate
even though life is but a dream
bemused we tend to oscillate
flummoxed by fear patterns that stream
we know we will awake in time
so we are not harsh on ourself
we ascend betwixt bliss beat’s chime
resplendent in the light of Self
woody woodpecker had a laugh that carried us through the day
We cheered as he pecked his bill into every tree with a hey hey hey
He was like a jackhammer, this hilarious cutey pie with hair of red
His enemies were flummoxed by him, they tried to make him dead
With two left feet
he's clod-hoppery
tho' her little white porkies
are quite whoppery
as he thinks aloud
she's merely frippery
meanwhile she knows
he's really foppery
but slinking around
slippery-sloppery
in sandals she found
flippery-floppery
she came a-croppery
a total eye-poppery
yet flummoxed
gob-stoppery
he refrained
from quippery-flippery
remained on toppery
and maintained
ever chippery
Who takes brain hits diabolic?
The child of an alcoholic!
With the mind’s botox
Pain’s now in a box
Not flummoxed the kid can frolic
Lovely weather for Dunners' ducks (tongue in cheek peek at Dunedin's historic deluge)
"Stares upstairs..
Angels’ weeing above..
Be a good chap..
Show some love bruv..
Turn off the tap..
*****
No refuge from the subterfuge of the deluge..
Parched sandbag phalanxes..
Ranks marching in flanks..
Arching across busted banks..
Quaffing..scoffing..downpour spanks..
**********
Disbelief at the leisurely river Leith..
Despairing at it baring...glaring..teeth
Hurling....haring to unsheaf grief..
Mischief rashly unfurling…
Brashly whirling beneath.
Bawdry..tawdry thief...
******
Baffled..can't they see...squiffy South D in a jiffy downed..
Snaffled..drowned and raffled to the sea..
Don't they care...iffy white caps slaps..won't perhaps spare even sniffy..
Snooty..spiffy St Clair..
****
This rain ruckus.. pluvial palaver...
Whichever not whatever...
It totally sucks..
Planet forever in..
Fluvial flummoxed flux..
Tis rather lovely weather..
Though for Dunedin's ducks.."
Though frazzled and flummoxed and frayed,
Still, none of it all would he trade.
The father of two
Knew not what to do,
But knew that in love he was paid.
Plussed and flummoxed,
The hundred sheep.
As I tossed and turned
In my sleep.
They must wonder
If crafty wolf
O'er the fence with them
Did leap!
As I counted
Droopy-eyed,
I must've let a one
Slip by!
Loud the bleat
Of troubled sheep
And I tossed and turned
In my sleep.
one by one, as we join the dots
attention quanta, in small lots
relies on memory recall
both pleasant and fears that appall
flummoxed by life’s Gordian knots
19-May-2023
__________
Bitsize Contest no 64 Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Line. Gauthier
Hardly anyone else has their own white rabbit herald.
I do. His name is Poindexter P. Horacio Merry Merald.
He announces things to me in my ear all the time.
You don’t need to write that; it’s now time to rhyme.
That’s not the adjective I would use. I am flummoxed.
You are annoying me greatly; I am super gumm-uxed.
I listen some days and ignore him other days for sure.
His intention is to keep me honest and my poems pure.
I saw you
In my dream
As a monster,
Naked with horns,
I screamed loudly ,
" Christ Jesus "
You turned
To a anormal person
And foced
Me to kiss you.
I was
Petrifying
After seeing
The monster.
Coming
morning,
I comprehended that
It was a Nightmare,
But when I met
You around the day ,
You frightened,
Trembled
as you knew
What you were doing.
You were so flummoxed,
And afraid to look at my face again.
I understood that
You were a trained witch
Or a person used by
Some locals witches.
My feelings for you disapeared,
As you refused to be delivered,
You were used to
drink human bloods,
Than the blood
Of Christ Jesus ,
Which has living life.
March 22/ 2023
Written for poetry contest sponsored by Constance la France
Theme chosen : Nightmare
....Third place winning
in the competition...
confounded by maze
gripped by pure anxiety
heartbeat overdrive
reminded of life
discombobulated, help!
flummoxed in extreme
'M' Words
Poetry Contest
Chosen Word: Maze
Sponsored
by:
Constance La France
20/03/2023
Pixabay Image by:LoggaWiggler
The search for heaven took me far and wide.
I sat at the feet of many a sage
but all that they did was to point inside,
cajoling that I should turn a new page,
choosing heart over head, that soul may glide,
recognising the world as but a stage.
Enmeshed in lower mind, I was flummoxed.
It was clear I needed to be detoxed.
Knowing not the way, I peeped in within,
negating the flow of thought forms turbid
and so this is how I chose to begin,
doing not what my conscience did forbid.
It did take time but I was freed from sin,
whereupon I felt an energy grid
within my body, enlivened by bliss;
graced finally by Divine Mother’s kiss.
Wisdom of the ancients became mine
and all that I wished to know became clear.
Ceasing resisting, I chose to align
with love thereby exhuming narrow fear
but for God’s touch, I continued to pine,
although His presence always seemed so near.
I remained transfixed thus by day and night,
until I beheld God as living light.
27-February-2023
Why’re we not astonished
finding ourselves encased
in feeble body-mind,
where manifests contrast
of thoughts brutal and kind?
Why’re we not astonished
at our deep delusion,
knowing not who we are,
for although God’s within,
we look for Him afar?
Why’re we not astonished
at enslavement by thought
birthing myriad fears,
as momentary joy
is soon replaced by tears?
Why’re we not astonished
at our choice to stagnate,
wallowing in shallows,
claiming not soul’s freedom
in love and light that glows?
31-August-2022
Lost in the depth of his pearlescent black eyes
shining brilliantly
(Just for me)
Those almost-crimped wrinkles intensify his smile
ev'n as the sea breeze ruffles his hair
(I can only stare)
The thrum of my heartbeat can be heard
above the howling of the sea
at eventide
(We stand side by side)
Holding hands, we breathe in the salty tang silently
me and my macushla
(Handsome fella)
My feral flummoxed feelings of before have fled
now I am content with joy
My heart overflows
(I think it shows)
He winks at me knowingly
and I find myself falling plumb in love
with my husband once again.
03.18.2021
For John Hamilton's "Eight word Bardenesque challenge" contest
One of my many foibles is greed.
I have placed myself in a bad situation indeed.
If I only hadn't sat at this blackjack table today.
My depleted bankroll won't permit me to stay.
I am flummoxed by the way the dealer pulls twenty-one.
That's it. I am over and done.
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