Short Dishevelled Poems

Listen to poem:

seahorse all skewiff 
disordered and dishevelled
leaves us astonished...

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black shoes in golden field -
             virtue in soles dishevelled and laces worn...

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My life is a shambles unknown
The chaos is mine all alone
My dishevelled appearance 
Belies the coherence 
Of the ability to still hold my own...

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pantheon rome

 dome   
       dissolves
                                   
  before our eyes

transmutes

into
    dishevelled

tresses
 
in need of a comb
...

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Listen to poem:

old stepladder
still able to climb,
still able to lean,
to prop and lift you up,
now elatedly sublime
a fixture prime in space
in pride of place
grounded
shelved
dishevelled...

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two love hearts beating
intrepidness so abounds
kissing to caress
dishevelled clothes now adrift
excitement in touch, delights










http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/love-18.php...

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Leonardo di ser Piero painted with such flair
especially 'The Lady with Dishevelled Hair'
This head of a woman(la scapigliata )to be sure
 with captivating beauty& a mysterious demeanor


...

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all that is feminine-
                           shines out from within

The Lady with Dishevelled Hair by Da Vinci

http://www.allposters.com/-sp/Female-head-La-Scapigliata-c-1508-Posters_i1612786_.htm...

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How in Anyone's Name Can This Be?
	Laid out in
	Uneven lines
	On the road
	In the dirt
	Little, swaddled
	Dishevelled wraps
	Uneven in size
	Stiff little bundles
	Empty inside
	Like dolls
	'Cept they're not...

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Softened
  blurred
&
   unfinished Scapigliata*
  with 
dishevelled hair
 an unidentified
 woman
    gazing downward 
her hair fills 
the eye 
 with
aesthetic   
  demeanor
& its 
mysterious
captivating beauty
 
...

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OPPOSITES


Joe is always feeling disgruntled
Can’t remember when he was last gruntled

His garden shed was dismantled today
It’s only two years since it was mantled


In the mirror his hair looks dishevelled
Rarely  these days is it  shevelled...

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Small.....


The small brown nightingale sings
From left bough of an insignificant tree
He brings not much
Just love and a touch
Of everything that wrenches his
Heartstrings

In his world the notes are beautiful
Blissfully unaware
His heartsichord strings are all but dishevelled
So never fill the air...

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Rain causes shedding tears
Summer causes bearing airs,

Winter causes much suffer
Spring brings dishevelled air,

I am affected by all the seasons
I am compelled bearing reasons,

What a seasonal melancholy!
What a reasonal soliloquy!

Pervading me all the times
I am pained in all the times....

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Medusa’d
dishevelled, 
and snake oiled gleaming

That day of grey Tuesday was remediously teeming

Simply chilli,
chopped onion,
or tragedy-eyed streaming



Girls Gone Wilderness, 
cling-filminess;
two sopping wet cupfuls

I opened, then poured some number of n-tuples

We were one o’ those 
fight nail,
tooth pick olive,
and lemon twisted couples...

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Alright words i am taking your hand
Fill the blanks
Make me feel
Lay yourself before me verse
All poets of the saunter
These words pick themselves
in dishevelled moments
between false and the idea of something
Kiss the question marks
Applaud The Applause
The ampersand replaces at with @
I remember tears that never fell
and fell before i walked
and wrote before i spoke...

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I thought my little mate the blackbird
was being bullied by his flock
maybe pressured to renounce our friendship
his little yellow nose looked painfully pecked
his tail short and dishevelled as his feathers
I might have been wrong
his beak looks healthy and strong
of shiny long black coat and tail
worthy of any self-respecting bird gangster,
groomed and pedicured to the nines....

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One again hears the rendition
of the songbird’s morning tide trill,
amongst shades of trembling light
that, which still meanders upon
the hillside, where unsung meadows
interact in dishevelled jade,
here were one to relive again
if only a fleeting moment,
an indulgence of nostalgia
that for me, cements in my mind
my youth and my esteem for you.
“A  portrait of foreverness”.

© Harry J Horsman  2012...

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The picture on the parlor wall
Is dishevelled and dramatic 
It's sullen bronzing ornate frame
Belies something problematic 

The imagery is deafening 
The figure stands enigmatic
The scenery bereft of life
Is staunch and proudly Pragmatic 

The figures eyes are dark and blank 
With a mindset automatic
As she follows you around the scene
Her body remains static

The picture on the parlor wall
Sees all...

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As the Pauper sleeps...

The king no longer counts...

His castle stands dishevelled...

...his jester eats the mouse...

More gold arrives on boats...

...His men they build a moat...

Wring a Wring a rosy...

A pocket full of lint...

The scavengers are circling...

The kings pinnacle is spent...

Cadaver a his only Ali...

Coma broken...infection sent...

No more time to harvest...

The cow snatched the moon
with the sheep......

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In fluent argot like a profound inchoate
Chthonic patronizing blood paroxysmally folds in curdles
You illuminate none but yourself with a pleasant scapegrace idiocy
Dishevelled and voluble in dark ages of medieval filth

Legerdemain to my vituperate wills and wanders
Anything in purge of the death of proclivity, namely yours
Crepuscular black skies, fugacious and oneiric...you dissolve them

Caviler
Caviler 
Caviler
Abate your breaths...

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oh lovely bed, dishevelled bed, 
warm and cosy snuggle bed
too nice to get out of bed
too big for one it should be shared

crisp clean sheets, to curl the toes bed,
pack of pillows for my head.
duvet to wrap around me, bed
wish you served meals, need to be fed.

coffee and toast make it a special bed
crumbs to lie on, isn’t good it’s said
best you throw me out, get a shower,
oh bed, can I sneak back in an hour, 

my bed I love you.

Penned 11th April 2013...

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I think back now to the man I was,
Before I met my friend,
How different I was,
Altogether an average Joe.

I now sit here a nervous wreck,
Dishevelled and unshaven,
Virtually a recluse,
Keeping interaction to a minimum.

I wonder what he did to me,
How he took my mind,
Took my world,
And left me with these horrors.

We briefly met one wild autumn evening,
He never shook my hand,
But uttered those words,
“Allow me to share with you a different view of the world.”...

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