Puttering Poems - Poems about Puttering

Fiddler Met Twiddler

...Fiddler met twiddler on his way to church
fidgeting and diddling, their fingers in a lurch
Fiddle-sticks and Fiddle-faddle stopped to watch and stare
puttering and muttering, one day in autumn’s a...

Scoundrels Living Loud

...Two birds like mischievous teens
skipping, giggling as they cross
the pumps, dodging car scenes
through the oily and Oldsmobile dross.

Scoundrels living loud in their little world
chir...

The Impotent Poet

...sputtering poetry,
   the impotent poet
      tells me, she was
“…puttering around Pittsburg.”

          potent poetry. perhaps,
        alluring alliteration
      potentially portends
 ...

Seraphina

...Whatever happened to Seraphina?—
precious doll of Caroline,
a present for her seventh birthday
in April, eighteen-eighty-nine.

Her body was of softest cotten,
her hands and face from china mad...

The Broken Record

...The only 
lesson 
 I have learned 
is that 
everything
was meant 
to burn .
Leaving in 
it’s ashes 
the repeating 
rueful record 
that’s 
always stuck 
on one track. 
Puttering 
out th...

Recordings

...The house and barn have surrendered,
burrowing under the loose dirt of the sun.
Echoes run from house to barn, from barn to house,
a ritornello hurried along on the skirts of the wind.

Dust muf...

The Nuances of Daily Life

...I miss the nuances of daily life
while weeks are frozen in this quarantine.
I miss the lost normalcy of my days
in all aspects, obvious and unseen.
I miss turning my head to read the spines
of t...

Wonderful World of Bubbles

...Feeling very trapped 
Dungeon canary getting ready to be zapped 
Proceed down a level 
Only giving a quotable shovel 
Building a winning case 
In a better place 
Riding in a vehicle to transfer...

Only Past and Future Moments Exist

...Impossible mission to pinpoint present
such fleeting moment instantaneously spent
according to yours truly i.e. this gent
mind boggled, intrigued, stymied...
courtesy unseen minute
(mine hoot, m...

Recordings

...The house and barn have surrendered,
burrowing under the loose dirt of the sun.
Echoes run from house to barn, from barn to house,
a ritornello hurried along on the skirts of the wind.

In the r...

Defining Truth Defies Das Democratic Thinker In the Age of Trump

..."FAKE" assertions unstoppably
bandied with beef,
(sans doughty deeds done dirt cheap)
courtesy of commander in chief
trumpeted as a way to backout,

embarrassment analogous to the thief
of Bag...

While Climbing the Rocks

...While Climbing the Rocks

Through trees and rains and 
Lakes I have lived, but today I shall remember,
Remember the child who climbed rock mountains,
Shutting out the city sounds and,
Music of ...

The Hen House

...Cooped within ancient bodies, this inhabitant 
dwells amongst an elder net 
of crabby, crotchety, curmudgeonly claque 
of old folks, only a portion of population I met
which achey, flaky, kooky m...

Mister Stanley

...Mr. Stanley died today.
His nurse had been puttering around
in his room,
straightening his bed clothes,
taking his vital signs.
He decided to let her have one more go at it.

“Mr. Stanley,” sh...

Puttering In the Mind

...Today I thought of thought itself,
of all its joys and failings
to be sure, but mostly of the
wonder that they take me to,
the countless things that open
to my sight in ways that I had
never se...

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