Frazzle Poems | Examples

blustered birds

I worry about birds
battered frazzle by winds.
But, with feather fluster
hustles, they withstand, affirm.

Queen Of Sinkholes

Frazzle dazzled Summer escapades,
a wave of madness hoists a red flag;
Fuchsia allows my brain to defrag,
sunsets melt hues into softer shades;

I can now turn down those hot coals
that my emotions have been tossed on;
Acting impulsive is frowned upon,
or be seen as the Queen of Sinkholes;

Do not panic drifting out to sea 
you are still able to swim freestyle;
Poisonous thoughts regurgitate bile 
starting dry heaves almost instantly;

Into your stomach they creep upset,
it can feel like a merciless sting;
No need to entertain cowering 
before what’s only a baseless threat;

Sinking without a life preserver,
it’s not needed if your mind is strong;
Repeat like a mantra that plainsong,
tumult will become caricature.

A tribute PROSE in RIME

A cool Autumn morning we caught the bus,off at eleven without much fuss.One 
and  half return from Croft to Leigh a birthday treat from Dad to me.Hopped on a tram to Burden park to see Stan Mathews make his mark.Through the turnstile into the town end,crushed and crammed like cattle penned. 
Mathews, Mortenson versus Nathaniel Lofthouse,a match for connoisseurs to watch. Wembly star Stan playing on at thirty eight still making inch perfect 
crosses on a plate. Shimmy,side-step,feint and dazzle,leaving the defenders in a 
right frazzle. Our ageing hero displayed all his twinkling skills,the complete pro 
without modern-day frills.Most pundits considered Stan an aged has-been but no better talent had ever been seen.

Poetry In Motion Contest Football

Cup-winner Stan
Still playing on at thirty-eight,
Inch perfect crosses on a plate;
With shimmy,side-step and dazzle
He left the full back in a frazzle;
An aging hero with twinkling skills,
A pro sans modern day frills.

Stan = Stan Mathews of Forties football(soccer) fame

Another Childhood Memory

A cool Autumn morning
we caught the bus
off at eleven 
    .without much fuss.

One & half return 
         our village Croft to Leigh 
     a birthday treat 
from Dad to me.

Hopped on a 
 tram to Burden park 
    to see Stan Mathews 
make his mark

Through the turnstile 
          at the town end
crushed &crammed 
     like cattle penned.

Mathews& Mortenson 
versus Nathaniel Lofthouse
a joust  no connoisseurs
   could never grouse.

Wembly star Stan
still  playing on at thirty eight 
  still making inch perfect 
crosses on a plate.

Shimmy side-step
   feint & dazzle
leaving the defenders
 in a right frazzle

Our ageing hero 
displayed all his twinkling skills
    the complete pro 
without modern-day frills

Most pundits considered 
  Stan as aged has-been 
but no better talent
     had ever been seen




Brian Strand | Year Posted 2007

Tribute To Stan

THE GREATEST

Cup-winner Stan
Still playing on at thirty-eight,
Inch perfect crosses on a plate;
With shimmy,side-step and dazzle
He left the full back in a frazzle;
An aging hero with twinkling skills,
A pro sans modern day frills.

Stan = Stan Mathews of Forties football(soccer) fame

Brian Strand | Year Posted 2017

Nonsense Poem

petals and petticoats
mimes and marigots
blossoms and bubble boats
coal buckets and car coats
frazzle fritzes and fuzzy floats
germinating grouchy goats
muzzle loading mischief moats
ostracize ostrich’s olive oats

I Could Write About the Smile Shared With Dog

Know that this purr-ing cat
will probably eat my face
how many wings are stored
how many insect spindles
how many bugged ladies
too little buttered flies
not a bad word for the cloud
drizzle doesn't frazzle
A bed without an azzled
cursed by my humanity
if only i could get
out of me
but then youse would still
be here
c'mon the rip
the tear
did he meen mean
was the tear a tare
Humanity's the scar
reality will never share

Tongue Tanglers

To write a tongue twister is not funny mister
I just don’t know where to begin
There’s one that I’ve written with which I’m quite smitten
But I’d had a very large gin...

Workers wrinkles worsen when wind worsens winters worst weathers

If your decision is instant derision
I guess I should try it again 
So here is another, I pray to my mother
That your words will not cause me pain 

Working writers write written works: Writing workers write workers rights

But too many choices in too many voices
Might just leave some of you floored
So I think one more is plenty before
I leave every one of you bored...

Fierce forest fires frazzle thrushes feathers

So, okay, I’ll brave it and say that’s my fav’rit
I hope that it tangled your tongue
But if that one didn’t but one of them did
It means that my song had been sung

P.S... Freds frozen fingers feed thread through first


7 January 2021
Contest: Tongue Twister Challenge
Sponsor: Joe Sandler

Mister Pot Holder

I have held my last pot of hot soup
I've come to the end of my threads
Befraggled and muffed
Bedraggled and fruffed
A raddled cloth corpse that's dead
Frayed so soft and shabby 
As the cotton boll that bore me
Worn to a frazzle
I have lost all my dazzle
Faded and haggard and tatty
So tattered in my casing
My splayed stuffing is facing
The dog who has chewed
What was left!


May 11, 2020
The Potholder Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish

So Much Coming

Down the pike, seasonal traps,
and festive lures trundle in,
weave ways through orange barrels,
past Red Lobster’s neon’s
a surf and turf backwash of traffic.
Pumpkins drop dead gradually.

Bedside Halloween costumes,
seams worn to a frazzle, no longer dazzle.  
Yet we cheer for the sexed-up masquerade
with its side-offering of ghoul-masked kids.

A sidewalk Santa fumes;
gives us the finger behind his sandwich board.
Shoppers both freeze and simmer in puffer jackets,
coalesce in electric clumps.
Strip Mall's hum and glare.
Plows push a gathering sludge
from here to there.

Flashback

Beyond an overcast lazuline sky
a night of waning moon sets ember dark.
As a silent candle of molten hope burns
an ashen landscape in sudden flares up
plummeting a trail from heaven to earth.
Streaks of  photons scattered in brilliance 
lumineers in blaze...
Are they shooting stars?
I had never seen them before.     
Eyes blinded in the frazzle of luster.
Shouldn't I make a wish upon?
But alas! In the blink of an eye it was gone.
For a second, my midnight turned dawn.

Then like your passion, the moment disappeared
fading away in perpetual veil of darkness. 
But a burning star still revolved around you
in an orbit afar, unerased thoughts in track.
A pensive soul in a meteor shower turned ash
forever sheathed in your radiant flashback.






 
Dated 18th August 2019
 
  Sponsor	Nayda Ivette Negron
Contest Name	Shooting Stars

Very Near, Yet So Far

Amid the mighty waves of peculiar sea
I stood still waiting for you to see me

You took hold of the little girl's shivering hand
And made her dance among the waves away from the shore sand

I remained silent, building a sand castle,
Collecting shells and was finally worn to a frazzle.

I noticed your footsteps and felt your breath
With divine love, I walked to you with a pearl wreath.

You caught hold of my hand and played with my finger
At once, the mighty wave greeted my heart with new zinger

It's the joy
Eye-kissing joy
Heart sweetening joy

You are here beside me
Very near, yet so far.

A Poem Made Up of Cliches

A POEM MADE UP OF CLICHES

At Poetry Soup we're admonished
Never to use cliches
They provide us an extensive list
For the error of our ways

But one thing you can rely on
Is people just don't pay heed
Like a dog gnawing a ham bone
Poets write stuff unfitten to read

Over and over again
I traverse the road less traveled
No one understands me
I feel worn to a frazzle

When all is said and done
I'll just wish upon a star
Or perhaps I'll follow the sun 
And hope I don't go too far

Since fools rush in 
Where angels fear to trod
And people get under my skin
I'll go by the grace of God

When life takes an unexpected twist
And you're plagued by a multitude of sin
Not making money hand over fist
Misery loves company and broken hearts never mend


You have reached the end of your rope
Tired of waiting for your ship to come in
Don't sit around and mope
'Cause you have fences to mend

Curtis Moorman
30 November 2018

Todays Wedding

Grooms not nervous now
Brides expecting more
Fathers going broke
Mothers counting money
Frizzle frazzle day

What happened mints?
What happened cake?
What happened punch?
What happened nuts?

More more more
Everything
Bridezilla

Simple?
Lovely?
Not quite.

Wedding

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