Long Blithering Poems
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I can't escape hearing the voices.
Even when, I myself, am utterly alone,
Even when the plea for peace,
is threadbare, shredded into tatters
of shrugged-off 'don't matters'.
The child I once was,
clamors for wonder, mischief, and make-believe.
The critic leans back, arms-crossed,
primed to tear down every armistice deal.
The dreamer scatters blueprints
made of butterfly wings,
stalling, stalling,
for happenstance to lead the way.
The doubter folds paper chain dolls,
strung together with paperclip chains.
The judge bangs the gavel on the table, commanding:
"Enough of the blithering!"
"This piecemeal deal must be done—Today!"
The mirror shows I myself, splintered into
a bookcase of shadows, on the shelves.
In the High Court of Inner Appeal -
They beg to differ, plead to acquiesce,
to become as one,
all-inclusive, but failing —
Then, another shadow enters the room.
A tiny puppy wagging its tail!
Mind is at peace.
Peace is here, if you please!
On days like today, I need you the most
When it seems that nothing goes right
You're the only one who can cheer me up
Sweet love, my whole day you light
With a fire, a passion, a burning desire
To hold you tight in my arms
To squeeze you, to kiss your waiting lips
In dreams, I'm overwhelmed by your charms
Forgive me, I tend to repeat myself a lot
Because I'm still blown away by this thing
That we're actually back together again
If you were here, you'd hear my heart sing
My darling, I feel like a blithering idiot
Running off and foaming at the mouth
See what you've done, my darling lover
Hope you're satisfied, my mind's gone south
So sorry for chastising you the way I did
I'm a willing participant as they say
The love of my life has come back to me
You are mine till my very last day
Listen to the wind:
it roars, it murmurs,
righteously chants --
In gusty breaths, exhales, rants,
tempestuously pants.
In tyrants it wails --
tearing sleeves
and billowing sails.
It reddens, it pales
the ruddy faces of non compliant seamen
and blithering, pompous beached whales.
Perhaps this poem, too hastily sown
Should have read the rules
before breeze and blown
and not so far from the guidelines would
this pen have wont to roam. But in hindsight,
wind stirs in many out of main focus ways
blossoms beyond bordered-grid of a well centered garden
in orphaned airs, for some, yet, may glisten their sways --
Written: September 1st 2023
______________________________________________________________
Blithering from the depths, every word I trace
A crimson river of my soul's embrace.
Ink spills such as tears onto a vacant page.
Etching tales of love, joy, and rage.
A metronome dances in sync,
To the music of your soul, a rhythmic link
Each beat resonates with passion and desire.
Fueling the flames of a poetic fire
Fallen leaves create a carpet of gold.
As nature's beauty begins to unfold.
Green smooths dirt between its knuckles,
As life takes root and slowly chuckles.
Multiplying ways, all but bright,
In the morning sun's riddling light.
Booby traps for the uninitiated few
On these paths, only the chosen flew.
Times appease, akin to a gentle breeze,
Piling wafers of moments, memories at ease
Lines of trees sway to a musical tune.
Their leaves whisper secrets beneath the moon.
The vast blueberry moon is humming along.
To our symphony, a harmonious song
Our souls entwined in this grand display,
Creating melodies that will never fade away.
With each word written, each note played,
A symphony of souls, forever displayed
In the depths of our blithering hearts,
We find solace in this artistic art.
The crimson river flows with grace.
As we pour our souls into this sacred space.
The metronome keeps time with our depleted hearts.
As we delve deeper into the magical arts.
The paths we tread may be treacherous and unknown.
But together, we navigate, and we've grown.
The morning sun's light reveals hidden treasures.
As we unravel the mysteries and measure our pleasures.
Coocoo chacoo!
Well, you’d think a blithering idiot
got hold of my governor controls……..
You’d think Watt had never invented a throttle for my mouth
Of course, no one ever has, and doubts exists anyone could
ever muzzle me with a full head of righteous steam ready to blow.
Issues well, there are few civilization doesn’t seem in my mind
able to get a grip on without a damn good tongue lashing!
Like why does one faith think they’re “tapped” for heaven
and the rest of us peons are damned to hell?
How come some folks think skin color determines brain power
or sex determines ..any kind of power….oh yeah…
there’s a bit a steam coming out of my ears now!
The cogs in my cerebellum are spinning
like a pinwheel cracker on the fourth of July!
And how come there’s a surprise when kids raised
in a dictatorship school system come out
not being able to think for their self’s?
Yup, the lips are flappin’ and the eyes are buggin’ and
the soap box in Covent Gardens better watch out!
To chocolate I pay my respects
Some folks say its better than sex
whether milk dark or white
Ev’ry bar I must bite
or I'll get a lack of choccy complex
I NEED chocolate it’s an unwritten rule
I'm a woman not a blithering fool
Give me a constant supply
On days that end with a Y
when choc’s smeared round my mouth it looks cool
Most women love something that’s sweet
And chocolate it cannot be beat
Deny them and they’ll pout
Choc is all they think about
Many men think it's all that they'll eat.
Collaboration with Dale Gregory Cozart
*** Dale posted the poem yesterday and it turned into a collaboration - please feel free to add your poem to his page ***
https://www.poetrysoup.com/poem/ode_to_chocolate_collaboration_923276
07-26-17
She stood at one corner,
Leaning on the rusted railings
Up the stairs..
Her tired eyes wandered in search of individuality,
Lazy she turned her head
To release the unholy smoke
As after every time she kissed the Marlboro...
The life inside is grotesque;
Immacular conception of the virtual world
Virgin Mary is silently raped everywhere.
Behind the false pretense,
Laid the truth of insecurity.
The rolling balls' fantasies,
And the blithering intoxication from the liquor's trench
Lured the obnoxious fools of today
Into the surreptitious brothel,
Where everybody wanted
Everybody else.
As the music beats..
The goblins of the night prepare to shed.
Morality hides behind
The heavy make-up
The peeping bra-straps
The accidental vile touch
With the fleeting apology..
Highlighted is : the dainty celebration of Lust.
The girl at the balcony
Drops the stick..
And turns her back to the perverted crowds of the night
The starry sky gladly greets her.
The blendig noise faded away
The blinding lights merged into the
Translucent hue of the obssessive type..
She strolled into the woods of the skyscrapers
Untill she found the moon
And ceased to see;
Underneath the streetlight of the deserted highway...
Ammmazing how many blithering idiots
sip silently while from their
purpled tongue
horrors regurgitate...
a ripe bachus regurgitation
soured by the tilt
of goblet and the howling
incessant banter of
bartender
Blithering idiots who the hell
what the heck
geez my glass in almost empty
HERE maitre DEE
fancy BOY!
MerrrrrrrrrrLOW pllllllleeease!
get the damn ice away from me
that’s real cheesy
You know NO FOOL puts
ice in red wine
Yeah yeah…git a bottle
gimmee that cork I wantta
sniff it
YOU
BOY!!!
Clink? Clink where? WHAT?
oh fork YOU
Buddy whatzit mean
when ya drop a fork?
Bill HERE!
Pen? pen WHAT?
I don't need no damn pen
can't ya see
I'm writting
wid one?
To chocolate I pay my respects
Some folks say its better than sex
whether milk dark or white
Ev’ry bar I must bite
or I'll get a lack of choccy complex
I NEED chocolate it’s an unwritten rule
I'm a woman not a blithering fool
Give me a constant supply
On days that end with a Y
when choc’s smeared round my mouth it looks cool
BY JAN ALLISON
Most women love something that’s sweet
And chocolate it cannot be beat
Deny them and they’ll pout
Choc is all they think about
Many men think it's all that they'll eat.
BY DALE GREGORY COZART
She lustingly said to bring some to her room
off went my trousers in a vertical zoom
I gazed in her eyes
but to my surprise
I gave her the chocolate she gave me a broom
BY TIM SMITH
Give me the chocolate and forget the sex
But please don't send it through Fed Ex
It'll melt in the summer
And that's a real bummer
Now that's a problem to vex and perplex
BY LIN LANE
Chocolates make me feel great
I forget the part about weight
If I was a tad thinner
Would think chocolate ideal for dinner
Will settle for sex after eight
BY SEREN ROBERTS
Chocolate is all that she wishes
She loves anything that Swiss is
I brought her a box
She quick changed the locks
Guess I’ll just go sleep with the Mrs.
BY DEAN WOOD
One woman with sweet loving lips
ate nothing but dark chocolate chips.
Her husband's retort?
"To enter her port
is like docking between two battleships!"
BY LIM'RICK FLATS
Why can’t swing states count their votes?
They should have been preparing.
Instead, at their percentage points,
We anxiously sit staring.
Nevada’s six electoral votes
Are hanging there for grabbing
While every news reporter
Keeps on blithering and blabbing.
And what of Pennsylvania,
Also Georgia – almost finished!
My faith in our whole system
Has most surely been diminished.
South Carolina did its count
So why is North so lagging?
Are workers doing all they can?
A lot of tongues are wagging.
We’ve waited almost four long years –
Some hours more won’t kill us
But what I hope is when it’s done
The end result will thrill us.