Long Dilly dallying Poems
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I KNOW YOU, you're me because I am you
I know in the dark when you think No one is watching, in your head you question !!
In feeble struggles your weak mind tries to remember, too bad its an unfit muscle!! You should have exercised it, you should have thought more!!
I know you silently ask yourself:
"Where am I,
Who am I" No, you ask yourself
"Who am I really"
"Who can I ask? You silently ponder!!
Well you can't ask me and you can't ask us!!
Somewhere in time you lost yourself and you pretended to be a sheep and flocked along with the herd but now you're truly lost,
You lost your individuality and now you don't know what you lost because self to you doesn't exist. you walk, look, act and talk like a flock, we can't tell you apart
So they too must be lost, they cannot guide you! so now you wonder who is herding, who is grouping you? Who is numbering you?
Could I be him? Maybe you're different, Do you think we're alike?
Am I different or am I insane? If I'm normal then you're not
Somehow you long forgot where you misplaced your driving purpose, now the confused media is your driving deities.
Who where you before this world made you a number?
Before it programmed you all flock, fleet, herd and all prey to this disease of the mind, this insanity cloaked in normalcy
Does time mean anything to you, or are you too busy to listen?
what do you live for?
For in shadow in the stead of you truly living you choose to simply exist.
Do you know where you're herded or you like just being so much that you flow with tide. You shall rue this precious time you wasted dilly-dallying
I know tomorrow you will not have lived nearly enough, you'll wake up depressed and think on giving up and wish for an end and when the end comes, I know you'll wish you had lived for what truly matters.
We're not sheep, we need not be herded by men. Open your eyes see and believe , listen intently and truly hear to understand. Swallow this sour pill it is truth, its both bitter and sweeter than lies. Follow your heart ask for insight, use your mind, its a useful muscle, deeply breathe in today and make a vow to yourself to truly live.
Form:
Act 1: Scene 1: (As the curtain opens, we see the bulky frame of Farmer George. He paces
the worn floor of his large open kitchen. He has just come in from harvesting his crops.
Seated at the table is his wife, Florence (Flo), a more educated person, demure, and usually
calm. Today she sits, as if in peril, large green eyes darting nervously back and forth as they
follow his every move. Across from her on the table is an uncut melon; next to it, a large
knife. Both husband and wife appear agitated, and an argument is about to ensue as George
leans suddenly forward, glaring at his wife’s startled face, placing both his large rough hands
heavily down on the table squarely in front of Flo. . . )
Flo: Mercy, George, what’s gotten into you? You’re nearly giving me a heart attack!
George: Don’t tempt me, woman. I want an explanation from you and I want it RIGHT
NOW! No more ‘a this dilly dallying around. What in tarnation was ya doin’ out there?
Flo: Why, I’ve been in here cooking, can’t you see?
George: Cooking? Cooking? I’d say you been cooking up something all right and it ain’t
been here in this kitchen!
Flo: Why, whatever do you mean, George?
George: I seen you out there by the barn, Flo. Don’t you deny it.
Flo: I am being perfectly candid with you. I’ve been right here cooking you this supper since
4 o’clock! Why on earth would I be out behind the barn and at this hour?
George: That’s what I wanna know! I seen you from the field, Florence. Not more than
fifteen minutes ago! I might’a lost some hearing, but I sure ain’t lost my sight yet! You was
runnin’ toward the house like yer skirt was on fire. So whaddaya not telling me?
(Florences’ gaze settles on the one kitchen window, and suddenly her eyes get very large. At
this precise moment, a loud crash is heard from outside. Bruce picks up the knife from the
table and dashes off, bellowing, exiting stage left.)
For Rambling Roses' Act 1, Scene 1 Contest
(not that ye wondered,
but simply tubby like totally tubularly clear
The Epic of Gilgamesh will not be extolled here).
Though thoroughly well mapped, parsed,
scrutinized vibrant wonders zoom
plethora, sans newly discovered life forms
cradled with fecund Gaia's womb
abound within unlikely places
such as mossy bearded faces
nestling, pronouncing,
and regaling pharaohs sarcophagus tomb
oceanographers also find organic entities
adorning, kickstarting,
and thriving within extremely
remote temperature zones,
where just enough telly tubby wiggle room
prevails for microscopic
Verizon patronizing Grand Poobah
barking orders unicellular viziers heed,
while latter bedecked
with itty bitty plume
invisible to the naked eye, yet within
subatomic world wide web
bit players air heir loom
appearing larger
then cereal grain re: life,
an arrogant, bumptious, and conceited Don
doth trump his young
unbridled, reprobate, and ornery baron as groom
material to check mate
distracted checkered populace,
where raucous, rebellious, riotous
majority lumpenproletariat fuss and fume
cuz gaudy Mar-a-Lago hiss poe tate
tow headed (faux towering
Taj Mahal doppelganger),
via slow vac didst suck socialist rowdy
bot tinny Rajah,
whose apprenticeship to exhume
(pro bone know) spy bots
miserably condemned from the get go
as president erupted rabidly trying to doom
rousing, scenting, and trawling
non-convincing "witch hunt,"
yet incontrovertible evidence carelessly
swept hurriedly under the rug
(by Russ Shins) via broom,
thus a sudden spike
visa vis master card er...
comeuppance will bring ringleader down
with strep away poison
nano trumps all abloom.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Now in summer re:
this Dom minion doth attest
intention to write
a boot equinox got out best
head, although pleasurable
to loose imagination off chest
so thank you for
letting me be a cerebral guest
and now...no dilly dallying,
cuz another writing assign
requires responding
to Matthew Scott Harris's behest!
Where in night, down in day
Clutching one's clay clogged face
Dilly-dallying ditzy dances
Dull, dampened waltz swimming with a drunken sway
Methodical movement of the ditz's drunken daze
Dazed dolphins dance down gutteral gin and toneless tonic omissions
Wringing ring wrung fingers, for the ditz's sherry glass gaze
Caught crooning whispers within the careless candid spotlight
Spickle spittle dawned the dolphin's dance, dominance'n drivel
Deigned to sway within a drug infused haze.
Spluttering with the need of stitches, as burly bone ingrowths
Dappered the damper desolate surface
To drag the ditz's measly hip dips, from the four-lipped, two-tipped,
Derailing and de-tailing,
dolphin intrusion.
7//10//2025
The morning kept whispering in my ears, telling me that I have nothing to fear, the moment passes quickly and I am halfway through but I have to go shopping for another pair of shoe, the
Prices are high but I know that I can fulfill that mission waiting
At the back of the sky, it feels like I just got here but the day is
Already done but the battle is not yet and I would like to compose a new song, be patient with me for I know that you are waiting for me.
One day fades into another and I still have not satisfied that hunger, I have several missions to complete but the universe is rocking at my feet; everyone is waiting there but I am dilly dallying over here; everyone is nice to me and I have gotten
Everything that I need but the one that is draining my pocket
Is bothering me. I have to get there for I have something significant to share a few hours later will not make a difference
For when the heaven meet with the sky the cold war will die.
Whichever way it goes, I am convince that this is the best way to go, I will use one stone to kill fours birds and spend an extra day to chase the devil ; the universe cannot sings unless he joins
The choir and sings the same hymn, I will think about it for a while and wait for the universe to comply. I will continue my route and carry an extra pair of shoes and when I am done with
That, I will go directly to the red square and sit wth them in the golden chair. “You are welcome my dear”, a silent voice whispers.
Time flies and the delegation is standing by, add the extra pair of to the schedule and take me to the schools so that I can learn the golden rule, the universe is waiting for me and I have to set my spirit free, I must get this burden off my head so that the people can be fed, please get me there on time so that so thatI can meet with stubborn minds and solve the problems of the sea and make some people happy. Time Flies!
Argh... dog dam mutt
(boot exhausted tending Milan Collie)
If only father time could... but
yea right Matthew Scott cut
your losses, accompanied
with sinking feeling in gut
ready to vent off steam
start fire next time and burn
(billy me I merrily Joel King),
down house i.e. mancave hut...,
in tot, while yours truly emulates
one among many talking heads
with tongue doth jut
out mouth making nasty facial feature
at reflection nut
tin much else
except, perhaps try to put
gear into overdrive any
remembered magmatic
lava lee fragments
to pull this mad man
out of figurative rut
nothing gainsaid verbally taunting self
with expletive epithet
more colorful than tut...tut... tut.
Chalk permanent heart wrenching
pinteresting kindling horrifying
devastating loss regarding
opus magnus extremely cross
at yours truly, nope no ace
in the hole, hence best bet to
down bottle of tranquilizers
with swig flask of booze to brace
transcending after life netherland,
where angels plucking harps
magically can exorcise
Manhattan goose stepping
quite pheasant hunched mountebank
Norte worthy dame
giving bankable chase
courtesy cloistered chaste
siren of Titan (on the
order of Mrs. Doubtfire)
hoop fully abducts me than
willingly, meticulously,
and compliantly doth erase
every vestige of writings.
Thoroughly cooked duck, dogged
dully dilly dallying gent
realized errors of
his ways, where bent
crooked right hand pinky the chief
hankering provocateur leant
admission (for one adult) cogent
tam o shanter donning Brit with scent
tum mental affectation unable to console
yours truly, who feeble
effort non poetic event
merely hoped to muster
even lame to assuage
smoldering ire, wherever
sense and sensibility went.
The continued story of this poet
Haters r going to be mad that I even wrote it
Here is where I give u "The Business"
Like a lightning bolt striking with a quickness
Trust me, u haven't heard the best of it
A debt to collect and I'm gonna settle it
Mouths sown shut like a gangsters lips
Leave everybody sleeping with the fishes
The lips tell no lies just like a politician
This is the Sh*t Talkers Edition
I don't do well staying inside the box
I'm better at picking locks
But ur lady just lets me in when I knock
Words like cells in my blood
Flowing through these veins like the levee during a flood
No filter from the brain to my paper
Just a figment of imaginary literature, kinda like vapor
In the Poetic Justice League and I'm the Caped Crusader
By the end I'll be your Daddy like Darth Vader
Enough of the dilly dallying and chitter chatter
Down to Brass tax, nitty gritty, the heart of the matter
All in ur face, screaming, "U can't see me!"
Letting words "Float like a butterfly & sting like a bee"
Leaving all the drama behind me
From this point forward
Pulling all the hit contracts I ordered
"Keep Stepping" and move forward
Wouldn't still be here if it wasn't for the Lord
Got an ppointment with fate,
Best not be late
Happiness & havoc is what I hope to create
If u haven't notice I am a Problem
U better have listened to everything I told them
A fresh canvas has endless possibilities
Maybe a mural of myself among other Poetic Deities
Or a sketch of the lies that I made those people believe
Truth is gray and things aren't what they seem to be
Pink magnolias sway in drizzling rain,
Sunny marigolds laugh, all bright and gay,
Carnations croon in colourful array,
Laid-back lily droops in lazy disdain,
Ravishing blossoms in cool wind astir,
Sparkling drops of passion softly kissing,
Radiant blooms, sunrays hardly missing,
Faintly falling blobs form a blissful blur,
Dazzling daisy dilly dallying slow,
Lush lilacs look luxuriantly lax,
Saffron daffodils sparkling in smooth stacks,
Charming snowdrops nod in snuggling shadow,
Dancing buds, a visual distraction,
With wispy fragrance in Aurora's chill,
Such mystic ambiance in background still,
Calls for avid floral satisfaction.
9th January 2023
EAGLES ENCOUNTER
Mi was doing my nite rounds..
then was a student at a local varsity
when i had an encounter with them eagles
they offer me peace...salaams..
but they were really trying
to appear nonthreatening
one of them asked mi a weird question
...how did you do it..
i perceived they were alluding
to the gift of sight..
dilly dallying around but they are..
all ears..i mention the fall..
suddenly there by my side scaring mi
or is it intimidating..
...what do you know of it...
only what you tell me..i replied
impatient eagles.. hard stances taken..
run to the USA even there floods
overtake thee..
and operative cleantone caps you..
The eagles aren't that bad
and they blend well with mortals..
This is Africa and immortals
walkin around aiint no big deal
we roll our eyes.. turn a blind eye..
We aint like them Americans
who have an obsession for the..
weird.. weird stuff of life..
miracles so rare in their land
they have to invent superheros
down here weird is the norm
and every one is given rite of passage
for this is tanateru.. this is gods acre..
and immortals have a rite of way
its the mortals who live down here..
you should watch out for...
the eagles land and leave
at times they snatch
the chicks from the hen..
and hubby rooster..
they don't bother us much
even kids don't fear them..
for they like to fly high..
and if i was an angel
wouldn't i protect them day and nite...
and if i were a bomb... i would never
explode..for the eagles landed-
and none was too wise...
Lewis k Nyaga,
KIRINYAGA FREE STATE..
Is our love a dance macabre?
A dilly dallying with death?
Or a mystic encounter of unabated love?
Will it last? Will it end?
So many questions left unanswered,
So many uncertainties attested,
All cumulative in a death wish
As emotions run devilishly amok.
My soul screams with this unpredictability,
Its echoes rampage through my veins,
As bubbling blood courses through
Twisted arteries, through havoc and chaos.
Is it the folly of chained love?
The unearthly silence of togetherness?
My lips pronounce your name but no one answers.
I realize my questions will never be answered.
Our togetherness is but a charade,
Shadows dancing in a moonless night.
Your allure is just too much to bear,
I dare keep it no more
So let our ways head into different tracks.
Henceforth I'll dance alone.
A dance macabre.