Fumbled Poems

Home at Last

I found today
I found a start
Along the way
I found my heart

I felt the pace
I felt the beat
I saw her face
I felt the heat

I fumbled nouns
I fumbled verbs
I mispronounced 
I slurred my words

I felt her hand
Caress my face
I understand 
I found my place

MIDNIGHT MUNCHIES I'm in a Terrible Jam

MIDNIGHT MUNCHIES! I’M IN A TERRIBLE JAM….
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At midnight, my stomach grumbled
With snacks in the pantry, I fumbled
     On the shelves high and low,
     Chocolate cookies. Say no!
But tripped on my cat and then tumbled!

Toward the fridge I tiptoed with glee,
For it holds a treasure trove for me.
     There's a jar of sweet jam, tight
     I’m stuck with tasteless yam, terrible plight!
With spoon and my cravings, an eating spree! 

Oh, the brownies were calling my name.
They ‘made me’ lose the dieter’s game.
     Each chocolate bite I took,
     My belly constantly shook,
Now my waistline will never be the same!

Sound Bites: 5-30-2025

Forbidden Ground

Wandering 
beyond the limitation
of death
 Trespassing
through the back gate
 of forever
Maundering
alone in a virgin
wilderness
Witnessing 
 the future destruction
—  of time

(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)



Bookends

Enough to be absent 
he fumbled the words  
His mind ever vacant
new truancies heard

Those spaces beyond him
those spaces behind
Bookends of fruition
— unspoken defined

(Dreamsleep: May, 2025)



Sognefjord Waiting

A mile
past tomorrow
a glacier
lies at rest
New memories stored
within its fjord
awaiting
— our behest

(The New Room: May, 2025)

Mountain of lies

By: Khomotso Makitla

Dear loved one, It’s me your UNREQUITED LOVER. 
In hope I hoped that this day never unveil.
As your WHISPERS still roam free in brain, whispers 
and hisses of broken promises.
I nearly fumbled to open my heart once more, 
But I once trembled on your mountain of lies.

Stone by stone I was there but there I was not,
Piles of those stones turned into a mountain and far i was pushed.
That mountain’s shadow tinted my heart,
For my heart is dark still, and I thought I was tough like steel.
But you’ve shown how easy it is to steal, once vital organ,
And turn it into a hard and cold object.

But I watched as your mountain of lies Mounts and the colder you become.
The shoulder to cry on, turned into the shoulder that made me cry on,
Never believed in cruelty, but that was my reality.
Surely I didn’t believe that rubbles of stones can incline into this  shade of, 
Darkness, that blind folded me from seeing the majestic hill up front.

That why I like to say fool me once, and like ancient Artifacts you will,
Be the thing of the past. ©?

Echoes of the Silent Shore

Echoes of the silent shore into our past it transports
Calling me to my memories long ago stored
Safely put away
for days like today
when I need you and my eyes are red and sore

Echoes of the silent shore make me want you more
than I have truly wanted anyone ever after or before
To have and hold you
wrapped in your arms too
when you want to hear then out my heart will pour

Echoes of the silent shore haunt me more than before
Prior to our parting, nothing about you I abhorred
all times I fumbled
toppled and tumbled
Besides losing you, is nothing I regret more

Echoes of the silent shore left me alone to explore
Regret filling my heart spilling over I can’t ignore
We’re not together
I’m iron fettered
Without you near all disappeared that I adored

Echoes of the silent shore walks us on the dance floor
You wandered into my life through the open door
I want you to know
I can’t let you go
Since you’re gone emptiness cuts me to the core

Echoes of the silent shore stay with me on your accord
When you were here each time you smiled galore
In my dreams you stay
Never go away
And every single day I love you more

You Were Mine Just Like Before

I arrived at your house
I saw you lift the blinds
I smiled at your presence.
I was hoping to find
A little time
To sit and relax
Go over all the special times
We had found in the past

I loved your new look
Long hair and  pants tucked
In boots
leather bound
As I fumbled aound
To find the right words
It was another Friday night
Just like before
When we danced all night
And ripped up the floor

And then you took my hand
Lead me homeward
And we found
A loving moment 
Just like before
I gazed endlessly
Wanting more

A staircase to heaven
And you unlatched the door
Took me in
And we began
To tell A story
Of a love so honest
And pure

White roses
Of purity
A garden of love
Innocent
And flourishing 
You were mine just like before
You were mine just like before

The Inept Pianist

Being handsome alone is not important.  Having talent is.  Quote by poet. 


Bewitched, her fingers flew, 
keys pressed, sound vibrated
song sang assonance in perfect pitch.

He tried, he fumbled,
closed his ears, a cacophony of
vulgar barbarism.  He remembered standing up
disgusted, turning, looking in a mirror,
a nauseous narcissus.

He could not help but admire
his sapphire eyes,
the clean, well-shaved chin,
his perfect figure...
all useless, for he lacked
her talent, her special gift,
her poise;
but not her face
where ugliness triumphed.
It was then, alas, that he felt 
the death of music in his soul.

Haunted Cemetery

A gale force wind was blowing one cold October night
With a hunter's moon in the sky that was shining so bright
I took a shortcut through the cemetery as I'd often done before
And in ten minutes or so I'd be at home at my front door.

As I neared the cemetery exit, I had one hell of a fright
I saw a tall ghostly figure that was dressed in all white
I was seized with sheer terror and ran as fast as I could
My heart was pounding and my legs felt like wood.

I trembled as I fumbled trying to get the key into the lock 
Never before in my entire life had I had such a shock
I reached for the Jack Daniels and poured myself a stiff drink 
Had I been hallucinating? maybe I needed to see a shrink. 

The next morning as I walked past the exit, I had a surprise
And laughed at what I saw before me, I couldn't believe my eyes
In last night's strong winds, a white sheet had blown onto a tree
And that was the 'ghost' that had scared the hell out of me.

To Me, Today

what is a hope
if not the most desperately fervent
wish of a man— a dream so deeply
staining the edges of reality

a hope lies dormant in my belly
sleeping like a dragon curled
on the hoard of my desire
breath like smoke wafting 

past my eyes and up my spine
tinting my retinas; seeping into my brain
it fires my neutrons and my body says,
why not try again

the days spent in despair— the people
who jeer— the coffee stains and 
splashed puddles and fumbled papers—
i hope to hate them a little less tomorrow

in this suffocating swirling world
my hope-stained eyes see 
a new dawn a new day
a light at the end of my tunnel

even cold wind warms my face;
around me bustles with life,
sun seeping through the cracks
waking up my slumbering hope

today will be different. today will be good
today, a day i’m living for the first time
i have a hope, wide awake in my core
it tells me, it will all be okay

I Should Have Held My Breath

You were gone as quickly as you appeared. 
One moment you were walking back into my life, a bit more weathered, much more grey, but you still had those eyes that saw right through me. You stood there as I fumbled for the words to say after 8 long years and before I could catch my breath, I felt every moment I had gone without you melt away. Like watching an old home video, the nostalgia washed over me like a tidal wave and just like that, I felt the warm edges of love in my chest. You would think it would be uncomfortable or awkward to love again so suddenly, so forcefully, yet I stood steadfast with belief in you once again. Years of conditioning a cold heart, forgotten in an instant. You made me feel a joy and an electricity that I no longer felt was in my grasp. And as quickly as you walked through the doors you turned and left again. You were a tornado of emotion that destroyed every wall I built up around me. You came and you took and you left. They tell me it’s better sooner than later but I wonder if this kind of pain can grow any wider in my chest. I could have held my breath longer than you stayed, and dear god I wish I had.

BrOken Glass

Played with, mishandled, juggled, fumbled then
dropped

Once whole but now broken, this precious glass

Shattered and liberally on the ground it lays

A motley of pieces large, small, and in between
all scattered

No longer smooth and pleasant to the hands and eyes

Broken, 

Broken is this glass.

Many jagged edges are now dangerous to
the touch 

Broken and distorted is this glass

Fading into Darkness

Faded out by design and the voices are getting louder
Troubled by past dececions and actions I'm fumbled
Filled with nothing but rage and anger I falter
Cursed by God and punished by the one's curising

Terrible danger utter darkness forsaken not
Two by Three Equals madness
Covet no man's possessions 
Kill thy coward who wears the mask of Deception

Decieve all man by naught 
I look to the stars to find my path to Heaven
If there's a way out of Hell there's a way to Heaven
Hell is like a nice vacation compared to what I feel.

Bones crushing and flesh ripping is beautiful 
Machine line from Auschwits buring bodies
Covers from the U.S Goverment will give you polio 
I choked out the nigga and the last thing he saw was the price tag

Willy With Weary Wits

None understood his witticism
They resembled horror tales
He couldn't contain criticism
Fumbled with desolate details

The Life of a Valiant Knight In King Arthur's Court

The Life Of A Valiant Knight In King Arthur's Court

There within the postern side of a hairy night
Fumbled the great hero with his sharpened sword 
His valor never questioned, he knew no fright
not even anger and pain of avenging hordes
All that red-blood spilt and enemy destroyed
His courage always a stout stallion on display
Long Bow, sharp sword and keen knife, tools he employed
And the beauty of pure courage with little pay
As knight he knew to honor his master and God
To fight for divine goodness and a righteous cause
Truth, bravery evident wherever he trod
Only helping those innocent gave he good pause.

A most courageous knight and a valiant quest.
Serving only truth, light and God that he knows best.

Robert J. Lindley, Jan 1st 1971
Age 17 years old

Note: Doubts are there, if King Arthur really existed.
He does my friends, as I have seen him often in my dreams.

Heather's Feather

There was once a hot dancer named Heather

   Who for her act wore just a huge feather

      She fumbled her prop one night

         And much to her fan's delight

            Fled from the stage in her altogether

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