Half Crazed Poems | Examples

Sea Glass

The little urchin sat by the sea watching the waves splash 
no parent to watch him no rules to obey, just a big old sea
He survived on wild berries and fresh catch of the day 
half crazed with heat he wore nothing but skin hide 

A little roe deer depleted by summer, lost but not found  
no rescue mission in question for this child, un-abused   
He was raised by wolves in the thicket of the forest 
respecting nature he ate what he caught with bare hands 

A feral one with matted dreadlocks and eyes like sea glass    
moved like a panther with stealth, as he surfed the shore
first human contact was made by a fisherman on his arrival   
it took years to build up the trust, but eventually he spoke.

Warlock

This is where they burned their witch,
Half crazed, half starved Old Mother Gee,
Whimpering as they dragged her forth
‘Tis not me not me not me not me,
Then stood bound there 
As if in a loutish dream
And endured those flames
Without a single scream

Causing those citizens, gathered 
There to abuse and jeer,
To stand and mutter and watch
In abject horror and cankerous fear.
Twas my little poisoned needle
Driven swift and deep to the heart
So that she almost instant died
With just a silent little start
And I tied her corpse
To that burning tree
And only I knew that
She’d been set free.

I am the witch finder to seek them out;
Most nights I ride these skies enhanced
By the sacred mushroom power as down
Below my body lies held in deepest trance.

I ride those winds and I swoop and glide,
Play hide and seek with a midnight cloud
For I am the Warlock and do my will, and as I
Fly to the stars laugh my contempt out loud.

A Fantasy Enmesh

She was a fantasy enmesh 
hard pressed against his manly dream 
with arching hips and gyrate torrent need 
he lay beneath her like a heated jungle gym 
and gasped.  Her breathy voice upon his skin 
said "you are all I need " 


He, exquisite to her eyes did as her wish implied 
already plumped and swollen he opted to conspire 
with boneless limbs attached half crazed they made  
their hearts insane with all consuming wanton  fire 

He held her like a fragile flower and gave her stems 
a stroke of madness and desire....

Robbed of Hope

What is sleep?  What are its positions?
Right side?  Left side?  Prone with arms in?
   You seem to have lost all intuition

Relax and breathe easy, they all say
You can/t.  Your chin is always in the way
   You shift uneasily from side to side, half-crazed

Insomnia's a form of unjust bail
Left unpaid, it keeps victims jailed
   In storm-tossed bed on sleepless nights
   Robbed of hope and basic rights

A good night's sleep is but a distant dream
Dashed on the shore of muffled screams
   The minutes tick by, agonizing
   Hours upon hour, paralyzing

Near dawn relief comes at last
Blessed sleep arrives when night has past
   An hour or two of drugged slumber
   Then stagger forth, sans sleep, encumbered

The Half Crazed Zombie Appocalypse Survivor

'I got to get out of here.
There are too many zombies at my house.'
'Snap out of it and see clear!
They are the cat and we are the mouse!'
'But I'm too scared to run.
What if they catch me.'
'Move it now or we're done!
Or do you dare not agree!'
'Ok Here I go around the wall.
Now where do I go.'
'Over there in that U-Haul!
Quick before their numbers grow!'
'But that's too far.
Don't you see anything else.'
'To your right is a car!
Hurry up you little welch!'
'Ok we're in, but no keys.
We can't go at all.'
'Alright you just freeze!
I'm not going to fall!'
The car finally roars to life
As Jack and Denny shares one mind
Jack lays aside his field knife
As the sun has him half blind
Sweat drips from his face
While he escapes his old place

5/19/2016

Awe To Optimism To Submission

When I woke up this morning,
I felt hopeful, eager, positive and calm.
I was going to teach myself to juggle, 
Tossing balls from palm to palm.

I’d admired street performers perform their tricks,
On the corners of every street.
Buskers, young and old, made every little manoeuvre
Look simple, easy and neat.

They did the shuffle and box, 
The barrage and chops 
Cascading in perfect unity.
And I’d stood there amazed, 
Enthralled and half crazed, 
Knowing I’d fit right into this community.

So, what was once awe became optimism to learn, 
To grow, to build and obtain.
And I threw the balls up, watching each of them fall,
Too fast for my little brain.

My optimism fled, waving goodbye, 
Leaving me accepting a feeling of submission.
My brain’s not that fast, no juggling today,
I'm now in awe of a singing musician.

A Nook and a Storybook

A Nook and a Storybook


What would I give for a nook and a book
to cuddle and snuggle and longingly look
the pages unfolding as I listened to
the comforting song of a fast flowing brook.

Oh, if it had pictures, a faraway place,
mysterious villains, a dark alley chase
I’d pick up the phone and I’d call in sick
disappear in the mist, leave not a trace.

What would I do to be captured by words
impressed into service by pirates with swords,
adrift without wind, current silently slow
half crazed crew pacing the sun-baked dried boards.

Perhaps of an evening a stroll on the beach
salt, surf, and moonlight on ebony skin
passion full sated on cooling hard sand
last dream of the shanghaied seagoing men.

What would I give for a storybook nook
I’d offer it all the time that it took
to take me away to wherever it would
leave me enraptured by a murmuring brook.


4/15/2016

submitted to – What I Would Give For A Nook And A Storybook – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Eve Roper

Sonnet - On the Inevitability of Daylight

Open your eyes and embrace the light
Filling yourself with a vibrant strain.
The cold dawn cometh—dissipating the night
Into shredded segments with nothing gained.
Emerging from a cave feeling half-crazed.
That damning evidence in the cold light of the day
Gripping with something you cannot embrace
Some new inhibition has gotten in the way.
And the horror is that this day has arrived
As surely as tomorrow morning shall follow
Tonight regardless of how you try to deny
The truth that you can’t stand to swallow
Today you may die.  It is said with such certainty.
But the real fear is that you may live an eternity.

Inherited the Dreams of Lunatics

Inherited the dreams of lunatics!
like a "straw eaten up" blowing by wind
to mind's eye," so I rushed
cleaves the heart whiteness in anger
from the upcoming days.

Ah _ oh( lunatics' wisdom) 
How many wounds you left in the mind!
When submerged herein
So! I reached a half crazed, 
and half sagacious.

Inherited the dreams of lunatics!
So fantasies came drunk, 
like a ghost roams ecstatic hilarious
Not for the mind - eloquent
Nor ear sober.
Laughing and crying
Then crying and laughing
Then cry

An exquisite images without hypocrisy,
Nor unambiguous as if a kinsfolk road
became Straight. 
Shouted in amazement for a half a minute, 
and then died.
So there is no grief fueled by or poultice.

Ww1

WW1
and after bloody ww1
 our returning boys,
were bloody numb,
to walk the roads,
 with a swag outback,
to live on rabbit on the track,
half crazed from bomb and gas attack,
as crazy seen by some,
old soldiers on their rum,
when they could get em some,
outback...

re: Dave Williams excellent "The King's Shilling"

Don Johnson

World War One 1914-1918

WW2 Aussie soldiers, were five bob a day murderers, they quipped:)

Sweet Meats

Life from a fish bowl
encapsulated ..above and  
behind the gilded dado's of peachy pink
and flannel-gray of San Fran's
Victorian Ladies

Life wrapped with the ledges and overhangs
and portcullis , frail, precious, half formed,
half crazed, oft newly born
each Lilliputian presence a sweet meat
inside their saccharin selves.

Life dawns, as a colorful array
of hard candy colored covers
shake forth from raspberry doors...
coffee toffee
liquorice bits
vanilla suckers
all with their surprisingly soft centers
to sweeten San Francisco's scene.

Broken Home

I've chewed up
spit out
and booed off stage
just for talking
about todays society
out of my mouth flew rage
half crazed am I for rambling
in a daze
what, for trying to stop rape
from happening
Honestly I could careless 
of your upbringing
the pure thought of it unending
forever shall I be decending
the words of a story teller
begging to leave this so called shelter

Father

in your sick and twisted mind
what could make you so blind
to lust your own blood 
to touch the fruit of your love
i was supposed to call you my father
not crave to add you to my hit list slaughter

in your own way
you'd say this is how you love me
then how did you hate me
"why daddy oh when did you decide to rape me?"
now look at me daddy are you pround
im half crazed living in a daze 
and begging to die its just like you
daddy i'm a lie
and your alive 

at least you have a choice
ah you see now daddy 
thats why I go crazy over boys
they tell me i'm beautiful 
and they want me too
some of them even act like you

maybe one day i'll meet a real man
then again maybe in my dream land 
he'll come and find me and set me free
be the man you could never be

The Fall

Deaths too soon. Abandonment of my shoes
Taken off my feet to walk the street alone.
Sharpness cuts through, bleeds. I groan.

Painful memories won't leave me and I 
Relive the pain that made me go insane.
Imprisoned like criminal; lived druggy
Haze, half-crazed, trying to be whole.
I know in my heart what's in my soul.

Will I ever live down, that I was down.
I wish I knew. Feeling ok with my past,
I go back to it, to insure my future
Doesn't repeat what beat the pulp of
My brain. It remains intact, the fact is
Known to be true. I'm seldom blue until
I'm reminded of my downfall to depths
Of my pain. There is no gain in grasping
It and holding on like a bareback mare.

I shared my prison with others likewise.
We all got out, in spite of our demise.

Forever will my memories exist. So be it.
Perhaps it was just meant to be and I'll see
Them all again one day to say I love you.

The Written Word

Such wicked fools, 
What angry, half-crazed things they are
Such despair sticking to them
Around them and through them
Difficult to be certain about
How they have fared for so long.

Such violent buffoons, 
What dramatic, forgetful things they are
Such regret spilling toward them
Behind them and before them
Problematic to imagine
How their mistakes continue on.

Such loving simpletons, 
What brave, tender souls they are
Such passion within them
To end and begin them
Hard to know
The depths of their love.

Such magnificent dolts, 
What imaginative, dreamy-eyed things they are
Such creations flow from them
And I, one among them
Impossible to understand
All that is contained in every one.

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