Puzzled Poems - Poems about Puzzled

Puzzled

You ask why I chose you.
I thought you knew!
I chose you like clean air
Because you refreshed my existence
I chose you like the ocean
Because you regulated the climate of my spirit

I chose you like the sun
Because you nourished my heart’s daily routine
I chose you like the soil
Because you filtered the waters of my life that keep

Light Hearted Kid

Do you remember when phones had a cord to the wall outlet? 
Our son was about five years old.
We were in a hotel room and he wanted to call daddy.
He ran over to the phone and picked it up. 
As he looked at me with a very puzzled look, he said it has no dial

Puzzled

I could Pick back up the pen
and make you wonder where I've been,
make you speculate the why and when,
I had to start over again
 
I've been gone too long it's true,
my color turned a shade of blue
Like I had some kind of flu
I was just looking for the glue
 
I picked up the pieces, that

Puzzled

Should I praise the rainbow,
Twirling in spurts of bliss,
Or glare the tainted sky,
To blemish my share of happiness.

Should I avenge my freedom,
For I'll be free from shackles,
Or clasp my glutton desires,
To live a little longer.

Should I defile this body,
A memoir to all my sins,
Or gift my soul a chance,
To grasp the hands of mercy.

I want

A Puzzled Heart

Pink and purple
Green and blue
The flying eagle
The falling dew

We get purple
From pink and blue
But this whole riddle
Is from thoughts of you

The flying eagle
Tells how you
Are ever glowing
And that is true

But this whole riddle
Keeps sounding awkward
Until I say 'uoy evol I'
And then, you read it backward

I'M Puzzled

Cryptic puzzles puzzle me
I study them with intensity
Pen poised in anticipation
It may be poised for the duration

Wishing I had the knowledge to use
So I could fathom out the clues
I've left learning far too late
But no-ones too old to educate

I think that I am putting great strain
On my poor uneducated brain
Pen unpoised and ready to flow
I'll

Puzzled

Women do
Puzzle men
In the things
That they do
Wear a dress
It so tight
And leaves something
That is bare
It has a pattern
To draw the eye
Right to where
It is bare
And if the man does
Happen to look there
Right at that spot
Where it is bare
Then some women will
Get very mad
And other women will
Be very glad
So if a man looks
At what can be

Puzzled

crop circle
geometry
is alien to me

previously published on Poetry Soup by DebbySue Guenther

Puzzled Me

PUZZLED ME

I am complicated
In a poetical kind
Of way
A masterpiece,
A jigsaw,
A journey
A maze,
Figure me out,
Like thick fog,
And haze
I have many pieces
Please don't  gaze
My mind thinks
Differently 
Some would say
It imagines life 
As scary, Everyday
It has flaws and pieces
Put together like clay
I'm afraid on the
Inside
Where my souls hide,
And play,
Tommy's my name
But Ronald's got game
I camoflogue well,
Each piece

Puzzled

When I see birds eating
 without digging
and men digging
 without eating
when I see justice to the rich
and no justice to the poor
when I see nations
 eating other nations
and diplomats lying 
I am puzzled

Puzzled

Hello can anyone hear me? look what this war did . It feels like I have a demon inside of me. I feel all alone with no place to call home. I feel puzzled am I lovable?? I want to feel I want to love I want to find the one. but I'm scared. scared

The Puzzled Pen

The freedom songs the ******* sing
Every time the bells of slavery ring;

The anthem the shepherd boys scream
When hope is nothing but a dream;

The future beyond their very eyes
Whose passion gets colder than ice;

The tears on those bereaved faces
Of so many people in different places;

The agony of unanswered questions
That tend to unimaginable tensions;

The insults conceded in

Puzzled

new to the area

finding my way around

     identity problem

Puzzled

Building your space,
you were dying daily
invading the acoustics.

How the continence
was going to help-
living with scars of explosions ?

Mutating into a full-fledged
saintliners, an inner conflict
becomes a profile.

Crawling to a stone
a crayon draws a cell
without incendiary rhetoric ?

Decoding an icon
becomes a daily ritual. From
where will come the write ?


Satish Verma

A Puzzled Piece

hands moving 
one face
on a clock
tick
ticking in darkness
cold feelings
echoes reaching
out within silence
twisting insides
hurt upon 
the soul

consuming insides
emotions overturned
darkness crawls
living in shadows
eating light
crushing deep
breaking up
into shattered pieces

sorting within
a jigsaw
with one 
missing piece
still to be found
only love 
takes away darkness
shining light
a puzzle 
the piece 
comes together
within a dream

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