Inanely Poems | Examples

Nutty As a Fruitcake

When confused or excited,
Phil chatters inanely.
When he’s irked, he’s not placid;
He gestures insanely.

When he’s full of strange antics,
some folks won’t go near him.
He just gets on their last nerve--
no reason to fear him.

When he makes wild suggestions,
his family get surly,
and his friends are disparaging:
“Phil, don’t be squirrelly!”

They think Phil’s such a fruitcake,
a loser, a dummy.
He would show them all. He'd make
creations so yummy.

When this loser got famous,
they all were astounded.
A great fruit cake company
old nutty Phil founded!

His old critics are huge fans,
rating his cakes "superior.”
They recall when they all thought
Phil was so inferior.


April 15, 2023
Contest Name: They say he's a loser
Sponsor: Joe Maverick

Brag Inanely

Boasting inanely,  
After taking much booze
You are so bamboozled
Trying to woo some folks.

Singing , " 
        Boom ,
        Bloom,  
     Hum...hum
      Zoom in
        the zoo 
         room. 
 
Boost up 
    Boost up 
        Yooh! 
           Heh...heh! " 

          You are 
          boasting
          your
         stupidity
         Unknowingly.  

March 16/2023
By Alfonso Warally Ngengethe Mussabwa Chris

I, Zombie, Part I: the Questioning

What has one become?
Do as the Monster chooses
Mirrored in the eyes

Which Daemon will come?
The fiendish mental muses
Inanely arise

Where did it come from?
Short circuits and blown fuses
A malfunctioned mind

Why am I the one?
The object of abuses
No reason or rhyme

Is it having fun?
It rages and confuses
Plays tricks and tells lies

How will it end up?
One or the Monster loses
Forward or rewind

Will it come undone?
Medications one uses
Can end its designs..?

When will it be done?
A Zombie's scars and bruises
May heal over time..?

And what does it want?
A question that is useless
The answers don’t chime…

Who is the Monster?
The Doppelganger muses.
Who is the Daemon?

Who behests the thing?
Who in their right mind chooses?
It’s the questioning

I'M Not Getting Mad

there is love
in the beauty of flowers petals

there is love
on the flowing rhythm of rivers stream

there is love 
in the chirping  voice of flying nightingale

there is love
in the whispering of wandering breeze

there is love
in the running passage of virgin deer

there is love
in your smiling, silence, carefree mood

there is love 
in your separation when I lonely imagine you

love there are 
all over around me
at alone
I'm not getting mad inanely 



-21/11/19 CTG, BD

Dopamine

Find nothing
abnormal to feel out
of mind, when one falling for someone; 
it's dopamine release
from one's brain.

Study says
brain of person falling
in love shows this chemical release
which forces one to act 
inanely.

Don't worry,
just enjoy the present
moment and thank your own dopamine
chemical that helped get
that feeling.
~X~X~X~

Note: The presentation is based on available information in Net.

I'M So Annoyed

I'm so annoyed

Annoying things like loose socks
sinking slowly in your shoes
a tiny stone under your toes
people with jaundiced views
The obvious absence of reason
despite copper fastened truths
Pleasant wee people smiling inanely,
an irritating vitality of youth

Fractured graphite in pencils
pens that leak unchecked
Frozen butter on a winters morning
people who say “context”
Parties and weddings feasts,
speeches and flat caps
Dressing for special occasions
all that sort of crap

People who say you're miserable,
or that you should lighten up
Look to some imaginary bright side
and other meaningless stuff
Can't they see pessimism
might not be a negative view
but a window into the real world,
with secrets revealed to a few

return to Flanders fields -

my brittle bones are like this fence, so built
          on throes of horrors shrouded with the hilt
               of war's inanely senseless blade, now dulled
     by all the precious souls its edge has culled …

now ages gone, those boys amid their dreams
          and yet the air still trembles with their screams
               so daubed in bleeding sun, how death imparts
     these fields of poppy roods and purple hearts.


 ~ For Lt Col John McCrae, and all life lost to war ~








~ 1st Place ~  in the "Purple 2" Poetry Contest, Kevin Shaw, Judge & Sponsor.

~ 1st Place ~  in the "Contest 545 Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.

(In honor of the poem by Lt Col John McCrae, and all lives given to war).

Primary Deflections

Those who tell us to be NICE
aren’t
they shout their PC gospel
in your face
while admonishing you for
your rebuttal
They accost each other
like third graders
left alone in the
school yard
and
when cornered
by a simple inquiry
point wildly
SHOUTING
“He/She started it”
for
they cannot abide
the sound
of one hand clapping
insist on offering
validation
of the absurd
with their inanely
unrelated
talking points
they have not learned
that
“sound bites”
leave teeth marks
on the rational
of acquiescent
assemblages
that
wildly waving arms
and grimaces
only serve to remind us
of crazy
Uncle Charlie
and since
we cannot call
a duck - a duck
we nod
purse our lips
look at the list
of cloned clown
candidates
hesitantly pull
the lunacy lever
sadly place the
I VOTED
sticker
in our pocket
having exercised
our RIGHT
our PRIVILEGE
to vote


John G. Lawless
©9/4/2018

Yesterday's Dreams

Yesterday's Dreams.

Rolling thunderously into our night
yesterday's dreams wrap themselves tightly
around tired hearts, 
casting their cords they latch on to tomorrow
and discharge unyieldingly 
with dynamic insight

but do dream on.

Dreams refuse to take second place,
using any means they whisper their state 
into our as yet faceless 
but personal aura and insist on early booking 
us for extensive renovation
by working with fate

yet do dream on.

Regarding itself, rather inanely 
as indispensable, yesterday's dreaming stays
not in retreat but hatches 
a carefully planned survival package which is
a clever technique to outdo despair
by vigourous regime

now do dream on.

Never to be disregarded, these
welcome fantasies give a much heartier taste 
to a sub-mundane week, 
for yesterday's dreams are but there to allay 
dangerous future fears by bravely 
bearing the heat of today

so do dream on

Annoying Walk

Annoying Walk

Annoying things are loose socks
sinking slowly in your shoes
feeling a small stone under your toes
people with jaundiced views
The obvious absence of reason
despite copper fastened truths
Pleasant wee people that smile inanely,
that irritating vitality of youth

Fractured graphite in pencils
pens that leak unchecked
Frozen butter on a winters morn
people who say “context”
Parties and weddings feasts,
speeches and flat caps
Dressing for special occasions
all that other crap

People say I'm miserable,
say I should lighten up
Look to some imaginary bright side
the other meaningless stuff
Can't they understand pessimism
is not simply a negative view
It's a window into the real world,
and secrets revealed to a few

One Way Traffic

Why is it that when I think about you
I find my self inanely grinning
Yet I get nothing back from you
That would get my giddy head spinning 

I can’t go on getting nothing back
I have wasted too much time on you
I need to feel your love, but I don’t
So breaking up is the only thing to do

Breaking up is hard to do, so says the song
But that doesn’t apply in this case
For when I tell that our affair is over
No hint of emotion shows on your face

I should perhaps have realised
Your heart was not there for the winning
But blinded by my love I didn’t notice
You were indifferent from the beginning

Junk Food- Odd Fact 007

Michael Latido has quite a history.
He is considered a medical mystery.
The razor blades, nuts and bolts.
Eaten by him and other dolts.
Are nothing, compared to namely,
His eating a grocer cart, bicycle 
and claim to fame, doing away inanely...
With a complete Cessna airplane

© Apr 09 2010

Oafishly Awed Driver

At the steering wheel,
I am inanely awed
by how my car greedily gulps down
into its hood that interminable stretch
of gray highway snaking out as a huge,
obsidian conveyor belt
from the edge of the earth
where the rim of the opalescent sky
at daybreak 

begins.


In the same oafish wonder,
I see the pavement itself rush in
and zoom in an ashen blur
under the wan headlights,
only to be belched out as smoky smithereens
filling up the rearview mirror,
disappearing into the oblivion
of speed and distance
far, far

behind.

President Manifest

Crackling sparks flew in diatribe hatred,
  Jaw-snapping vitriol, hyena raised hackles,
Secure insecurity giggled inanely,
  Bared yellow-bone, fangs of jackals.
Mouth that yawns trapdoor premonitions,
  Pandora’s box fixed in cold shark eyes,
Releasing the bats, sick and plague stricken,
  Bubonic repugnance meets ego despise.
Dull, dumbbell dense, thick as molasses,
  Xenophobe hairstyle caps petrified brow,
Crow’s feet cracks frame sunken-in sockets,
  The president manifest, down we bow.
Hailing void frequency, wild and unfocussed,
  Harpy-shrill cackles in brain dead bazaars,
Nothing breeds nothing but death and ambition,
  Light eating blackness, black as dead stars.

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