Lines of linguistic train wrecks
crash their coupled words
into higgledy-piggledy junkyards.
It's your poem to disown.
but you post it because your mind
craves to see itself on digital paper.
The poem may appear in its Sunday Best
but the bible it clings to is full of gypsy jargon.
Have faith or have no faith,
you must convince a faceless audience
that are already distracted
trying to make sense of their own poetry.
if you get it, you really have not got it.
Like sand through stiff fingers
it shapeshifts onto a white sky -
its then you realize
that the 'submit your poem' option
is, and always was,
a trap.
This might have been an astounding scene, once.
Though, cracks and crevices, these days, it confronts
The hedge plants, like uncut hairs, have grown wild.
Waste-hills are higgledy-piggledy piled.
Manholes and potholes are littered around.
One who falls in could easily get drowned.
Flags, once painted on the walls, look faded.
With red-spit splashes, dustbins are shaded.
Here's one; there's one; you'd find in each corner
An artist exhibiting his honor
Are these singers part of an orchestra?
Is earning fast pennies their formula?
Hungry beggars terrorize one and all.
Scaring cat-dog-fowl-swine-cattle groups brawl
Beggars share their alms-bread-chunks with stray dogs.
Everyone sleeps together like dried logs.
Amidst sellers' and buyers' hard bargain
One could hear sounds of much party jargon.
Cutting across them rush the pickpockets.
Thieves hide behind municipal crochets.
Floods of populace flow gushing wildly.
Though vexed within, they seem to smile mildly.
Each one rushes as though under a curse
Indian pavement is a universe.
TODDLER CLUB
Higgledy Piggledy, here we sit
All are fidgeting just a little bit
And a giggle, however cursory
We are all here at the nursery
Look around, to left and right
Try smiling, and they just might
Waving your hand to say hello
It isn’t so long now until we go
Then all of us can say goodbye
Until tomorrow, but me oh my
If left here alone, I’ll be in a fix
To sit alone among these bricks
I knew the day we met that we were meant to be
I realized our destiny was set and she was the one for me
She was rich in beauty but poor for she will die with it
Her appearance nonplussed me and I couldn't hold the steerage of my course anymore
She is the one I consented to have on my slender thighs
At that point her pearly lips gave appointments to mine
This lady killed me and roasted my carcass
Leaving the scavangers performing the post-moterm
I walked tall in the genesis of our affair
Now I'm wrecked….
Higgledy-piggledy daughter of a lesser god!
Today, deluged with anger I regret
The day I met this devil incarnate;the mastermind behind the bleeding of my heart
She tattooed my heart with wounds;I no longer have a clean heart
Her friends and her drunk the gushing blood of my wounded heart
That night my heart contorted into painful lumps
But I had to forgive the being that created her and put her in my world
Bitter are my words,she is a nonsense with no sense at all
Daughter of Jezebel-show up on the day I get laid to rest;lower me to the ground,let me down like you always have-stupid creature!Nkt!
John Lenda (Poetic World,2022)
LIFE an absurdity(HOGARTH)
a passion
of the ridiculous
the manner
of time
in
rapid moments
bustling streets
a metropolitan buzz
collision&
melodrama
of crammed alleys
excess
a teeming hell
perpetual fluctuation
yellowed mouldy
flamboyant
evoked higgledy piggledy
teeming&
tangled
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
Clickety-clack train
and topsy-turvy brain.
Need sleeps tight and sound,
drowsy wheels are turning slowly around.
On the way to my home.
Ah! I'm missing my comfy room.
Though higgledy-piggledy bed
but all I am craving is my fluffy blanket.
Higgledy-Piggledy
Forty-fifth president
Some think him marvelous;
Others a jerk.
Chasm political
Breached by consensus, his
Cosmetological
Routine needs work.
A broad daylight spilled over my sleepwalking mind.
I popped out of a dream knowing something.
An alien from an alternative Ohio
had cat-burgled my consciousness.
I had been probed, not in a physical way,
just ransacked and rummaged
as if a strange mind considered me to be
a yard sale or curiosity shop.
I felt turned over, my stored stuff assessed
then replaced higgledy-piggledy.
The dust in my attic is still flying.
My junk is all tipped over.
I am not sure what the alien was looking for,
not sure what it made off with.
Something as yet unused has been pilfered,
and I will miss it when it’s time to find it.
Wind Swept Beauty.
.
Upon hilly brackish tor
Of a wild inhospitable
Windswept ambling moor
Woolly sheep chew cud and bleat
In the shadow of the over looking
Rugged towering sister mountains
.
A sprawling sweeping land
Of tawny browns and greens
And carpets of purple heather
Laid by God’s hand in between
.
Linier lecithin blotched
Higgledy piggledy drystone walls
Boundary lines
Thickets of bracken
Woody copper copse
With steeple wind battered tree tops
.
Silver ribboned stream and brooks
Snaking through the rugged land
Gushing rushing over
Stone pebble and boulder
Sparkling cold clear and clean
Lazy pouting gasping trout
Suddenly turn and try to kiss the sky
As a flock of flapping crows
With raucous calls pass by
.
A harsh unforgiving land
Weather beaten unrefined
Rugged beauty upon sodden earth
On which it defiantly stands
Under temperamental moody
Ominous varied darkened sky’s
Capturing many a heart
And pleasing the eye.
.
Peter Dome©2020.
gaunt ghost jolting
lusty lurch fermenting
felon higgledy-piggledy fostering
busted hurly-burly blistering
hoisted emotions hankering
strife strove, surging
damped death drooling
after ghost galloping
scared fate sobbing
at mystic margin:
pulpy pace shrinking
death met banshee
callous war's conceived
death feigning defeat.
19:12:12:08:56
Higgledy-Piggledy Pop;
Make the madness stop.
Empty your bladder,
On the boob tube blabber.
Yackity Yak, Yackity Yak,
Our sanity is under attack.
Spin, Spin, Spin, the thing;
The world defined by the southpaw wing.
Chapter VI explained it all;
60 million died at that ball;
Higgledy-Piggledy Pop;
The madness needs to stop.
I've a bit of a problem here...
in a higgledy-piggledy pickle
torn between housewifery
and creative muses fickle.
Scattered, shattered fragments
of odd ideas, dreams
lay about my den, disguised
not nearly what they seem!
Bits of whimsy, what-nots
all cluttering my desk
covered in thick pixie dust
my housekeeping grotesque.
Higgledy-piggledy hodgepodge
my convoluted mess
a sign of utter genius
(or else mental distress).
I'd planned to tidy up...
to toss a few things out
but as I gaze upon them
they sniffle, weep and pout.
To think that I'd discard them!
Those former hopes and whims
unborn poems, paintings
their destiny quite grim.
Delicately backing out-
I apologize with care
as they cold-shoulder, look away
with such dramatic flair!
And when my husband asks me
just what I've done all day
I simply shrug “not much”
not knowing what to say.
How could I ever mention
the lurking living things
inside my head, upon my desk
that gently pull my strings?
The odd creative forces
that captivate me thus
wildly penning amid my piles
while he remains nonplussed!
My brains all higgledy-piggledy,
My ears are bamboozled with sound,
My muscles are all of a jitter,
My heart is beginning to pound,
My vision is like a kaleidoscope,
The room is spinning around.
Get me out of this bedlam!
Get me out into nature, where
My thoughts begin to untangle,
My ears relax to the sweet sounds of birds,
My muscles are less of a jangle,
My eyes gaze up to clouds in the sky,
My body is out of its strangle,
Sigh
My heart is at peace.
4th September 2019
I.
Higgledy piggledy
Roger de Coverley
Fonder of hoofing it
Than of romance
Found himself typified
Characteristically
King of the Reels and the
Lord of the Dance.
II.
Willety wallety
William the Conqueror
Wanted his subjects to
Quail at his power,
Crowing to Londoners
Hyperdespotically,
“Look, everybody, I’ve
Built me a tower!”
III.
Rickety tickety
Wolfram von Eschenbach
Sought for a subject to
Fashion a tale;
Tiring of writing so
Eschatologically,
Rather, he turned to the
Quest of the Grail.
NB. The nonsense opening of a Double Dactyl was originally, and is still most frequently, "higgledy-piggledy", but it can be any alliterative pair of dactyls. Here, the opening of the second is from the adapted version of the Scots folksong "Wee Cooper o' Fife" in the schoolhouse sequence of Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds-- though some postings online mishear it as "willaby wallaby" or "willicky wallicky". The nonsense opening of the third is from Tom Lehrer's "The Irish Ballad".
Higgledy Piggledy
**********
Higgledy piggledy, look out, duck!
My friend Tommy is throwing muck.
Miss Maisy shouted, "Stop right now"!
Stopped, he did, can't move, no how.
Some think Miss Maisy is a Witch
For when shouting her cane doth twitch
But it is not really true, no not at all
Come hometime, she shouts "Love you all"!
*************************
01/30/18
Entered in Write a funny Poem for a 7-year-old, sponsored by Kevin Straw
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