Scrambles Poems | Examples

Our Mothers Gave Us Their Names

That quiet-ness,
middle of the night,
insomniac,
sleep as it gets bright
toss turn sides & back....
drift to afternoon wake,
stomach rumbles,
to an oven that bakes,
and is humbling.
The fall is a mind's wrap
of how the co-existence
leaves us in scrambles,
Our mother gave us our names,
and euphoria is always the blame.
Scrambling in dirt and even worse,
Limo carries another hearse

New Cracks in Old Stone

New cracks in old stone
Just beginning to show,
Reveals things never shown
Things only one could know 

Just beginning to show
A solid surface scrambles,
Things only one could know
Shedding into shambles

A solid surface scrambles
Every chisel brings a change,
Shedding into shambles
In time, it must arrange

Every chisel brings a change
Upon hard - headed rock,
In time, it must arrange
For none can beat the clock

Upon hard - headed rock
Reveals things never shown,
For none can beat the clock
New cracks in old stone.

Vestibulocochlear sympathectomy

Only point to matter is the fulcrums peak.
As pivotal, the equilibrium we seek.
Critical mass tipped to offset sum.
Heavily shifts the weight of outcome.

Impressive pressures impart fractional distresses. 
Coalesces into convoluted messes.
Broken focus binding fixation to disrepair.
Unified in the disconnection that we share.

Snapping in concert to the beat of your clique.
Adversarial dependency, "it's them who's sick".
Blind fidelity illuminates obscured perception.
Signals interference scrambles any reception.

Contrary dispositions act to characterise.
Spectrum of identity compelled to polarise.
Modalities of agency subjectional by nature
Parallel accordingly by acquisition or endenture.

Life and Death

Staring down your enemy, conquering your fear,
Shadowed by death, by cruelty and despair.
The sight before you; is the same as before,
Walking alone, down the same dark corridor.

The beauty of the world is reticent to your eyes,
Your worst nightmares are reality; you NOW realize.
Dazed and confused, you make for the tunnels end,
Only to find you’re at the beginning AGAIN.

Again and again, you charge towards the light,
It floats far ahead in the tunnel, just within your sight.
Screaming out in frustration, you drop to your knees,
A deaf world catches your voice and ignores your pleas.

Waking from THE dream? Your reality anew,
Nothing goes as planned, no matter what you do.
Dazed and confused, noticing your life has passed you by,
Left with nothing but the desire to fall down AND cry.

The tears won’t come; your eyes ARE dry and cold,
Inside your heart; YOUR spirit scrambles for a hold.
With a sigh of surrender, you smile one last time,
You shed one tear only, as you close out this rhyme…

Shadow Clouds

Now
  Come the shadow clouds
  where and whence evil rises bold and loud
  once buried, hidden wide opened shrouds.
Warm, soft, calm breezes slip away
  in between the morning hours when we prayed
  deep in the cast of shadowy grays
  preparations for warring factors are made.
It has become a hate-filled time
  where loudest voices revile in the climb
  lost to compassion, to empathy
  that once thrived in the land of the free.
Now, 
  a heartless spirit scrambles forth
  hidden hatred in a price brought
  innocence pushed aside and lost.
Who we once were
  grows more angry, deceitful, and disturbed
  divisive rhetoric in every word
  out on display for the world to be heard.
How soon before the sword and gun are drawn
  How soon will come that fateful morn
  that creeps and hides within every pawn
  sacrificed and filleted in dull yawns
Now
  come the shadow clouds
  no one dares speak of it out loud.

Ransomeware data compromised

Data captured devices compromised 
severe fret what’s next identity theft 
cybersecurity risk cyberattack finally 
power threats wire money now to 
release your data life as you once 
knew is oblivion the feeling of unsafe 
out of control unauthorised access 
to personal information encrypted files
cell phones are melted laptops humming 
cell towers confused victims removing 
replacing sim cards while watching 
documents photos of loved ones 
vanish into a vault marked national 
publications data breach factories 
farms industries ceases production 
hospital systems crash patients are 
given the wrong medications wrong 
surgeries sudden death planes fall 
quickly from the sky vanishing control 
towers compromised chaos technical 
glitches global hostage situation FBI 
scrambles the uncertainty allows 
for panic what is safe in America a 
warm blanket apple cider cherry pie

God bless America

Peppers and Eggs

Jodie Foster is frying peppers and eggs ~ it is late and her legs
ache as she scrambles the yokes, sautés jalapenos.
Today a jerk again compared her to the movie star ~a life she
never wanted keeps invading her reality, even though she was
born earlier, people consider her the fraud; the fake, the
`knock-off.'

Not for the first time she imagines changing her name, but always
there is a fear of not being compared to anything at all.

There is a loud noise upstairs. She freezes, she recalls
the movie -`Panic Room.' She runs to her downstairs closet,
bolting the door behind her. Footsteps descend - it is Jodie Foster
in her role as Agent Starling. Jodie has a gun and is seeking
her rapist from a previous movie.

Scripts are merging. The Jodi who cooks peppers and eggs
understands why she has always avoided cliffhangers - suspense
thrillers. She cries softly in the dark as she clutches
a Dollar Store spatula, a utensil that will never work
as well as a real branded weapon.

With Apologies to Mister Poe

Late at night I hear their screeching,
Feel their evil arms outreaching
Like some minister a-preaching
In a temple made of light.
How my poor ears get to ringing, 
As a band of angels shrilly singing
On some lonely stretch of highway
In the night.
I think I hear the bells
Of a hundred thousand hells.
They won't allow me sleep,
Nor bless my soul to keep.
Oh, how they make me weep
As their awful midnight screaming
Keeps my fevered brain from dreaming.
I toss this way and that, 
Like a trapped and frightened bat
As it scrambles for the door
And croaks out: Nevermore!

Poetry Versus the Taxman

Got to put writing aside for a bit
Need to get the bookwork done
The taxman is waiting
He wants the numbers
With dollar signs in front
He doesn't care that he's taking me away
From my love of words
He just wants me to be done
By a certain day
So he can take my money....
I usually enjoy doing bookwork
It's a task I don't find dreary
Exercising brain muscles
But my mind can't stay focussed
Stray thoughts meander
Coming between columns of figures
Addition, multiplication, subtraction
Division, percentages and totals
Have flown away to the other side of the universe
Grab the nearest piece of paper
Pen in hand and start writing frantically
...OOPS...
Back to figuring again
Where was I?
Trying to keep my brain on a leash
But like a creek in a downpour
It runs everywhere but where it's meant to
A flash of a word
That's what I was looking for!
A whole new verse scrambles through my brain
Scrawling it onto paper as quick as I can
I WILL get the bookwork done
Eventually...

Comparisons

Jodie Foster is frying peppers and eggs
~ it is late and her legs ache
as she scrambles the yokes, sautés jalapenos.

Today a jerk once again
compared her to the movie star.

Not for the first time
she considers changing her name.

A loud noise upstairs. She freezes,
she recalls the movie: Panic Room,
runs to her downstairs closet,
bolting the door behind her.

Footsteps descend, she imagines
it is the real Jodie Foster
in her role as Agent Starling.

The other Jodi
cries softly in the dark as she clutches
a Dollar Store spatula,
a utensil that will never work
as well as a real branded one.

Comparisons In the Dark

Jodie Foster is frying peppers and eggs.
It is late and her legs ache
as she scrambles the yokes, 
sautés the jalapenos.

Today a jerk again compared her 
to the film actress.
A life she never wanted keeps invading her reality.
Even though she was born earlier
people consider her the ‘wrong one.’

Not for the first time 
she imagines changing her name,
A noise upstairs, the woman freezes
then runs to her understairs closet, 
bolting the door.

Footsteps descend. 
It is the movie star Jodie Foster,
She has a gun and is seeking her imposter.

Life-scripts are merging;
she understands why she has always avoided
cliffhangers - suspense thrillers.

Jodie cries softly in the dark 
clutching a Dollar Store spatula 
that will never work as well as a branded one.

Leslie

This merciless tyrant,
Tormentor of souls
Chooses trusting young
Leslie as prey

He scrambles her thoughts
And darkens her moods
Each dawn brings
The same stormy day.

Alone and adrift
On an ocean so vast
She’s as lonely
And lost as can be

But on the distant horizon
Gleams a gold, welcoming shore
That no one but Leslie can see.

Anticipation of Christmas

On a gray weekend in early November
I collect and chop fallen limbs
From the old trees of last winter and this summer

Fill my wheelbarrow with kindling sticks
Quiver of arrows
Stacked in my garage
By rot and size

I resist the urge
To build a fire
Until the real first snow of the season
Flies

It can take days or weeks of waiting
Past Thanksgiving
Closer and closer to the bloom of Christmas

I wonder if the time will ever arrive
In time

But even then
When a snow scrambles our porch light
Paws the windows

And the first fire catches and snaps at its splinters
Family room filling with candle glow

I throw on my winter coat
Go outside
Sit in the dark

A dad in an old black and white film
Arm wrapped around his son’s shoulder

Listening to the big snowflakes
Bacon sizzle
The skillet of dried up leaves

Moonlight fogged with burning incense
Cherry and Oak from my chimney smoke

Smells like home
I’m not alone
Time displayed in a Christmas storefront window

It’s going to be all right for quite a while longer.

Under

That sway as she turns
her hips resonate with an unquenchable wrench
Her hazel eyes were light lingers
refusing to depart in deepest dark
A gossamer arch of alabaster skin
as heels dig for completion
In the dark she scrambles for my lips
to bring my final death
as her mouth exhumes
my lust

Adieu

I want no one to love me for I have only to suffer... 

Their hearts aren't worth the brushed plackets. 

They seem dramatic...
Behind me, Take their pain in my wrist... 

Evoking peace and a sunlit moon...
I deliver their hearts off to sacrifice...
A platter of fresh lovers to love them. 

This disastrous rampaging taunt the night...
One like no other...
Masses decadent to my mansion... 

Fire scrambles my armchair...
Goes within, goes out...
The wind explodes in Frisbees... 

I let aloof my wings...
A night like no otherwise...
The nightmare just commenced...

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