Short Fumbling Poems

a lit Lucifer
falls from a fumbling fist
the burned oaf gawks...

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Fumbling teenagers,
Lips working like hungry Koi,
You call that kissing?...

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HAIKU

Fumbling for a word	
It can lead somewhere quite new
Meaningful surprise
...

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Poems i lost
Poems i gained
Poems that slip, like eels,
Through my fumbling fingers

a la. Dereck Walcott....

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Hum ditty hum 
Fathom my fumbling thumbs
My fat fingers were fiddling
A tune that was middling
Never a merrier man than me...

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Deep
Dark
Sadness
Overwhelms the soul
Inside
Outside
Fumbling my heart
My mind.
Hope?
Gone
Lost.
And all
In despair...

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Fumbling blindly in the dark

Grumbling finally hit the mark

Tumbling until morning light

Mumbling what a wondrous night...

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Fumbling in the dark
sometimes kicks a spark
like a flipped illusion
bending with confusion
to stretch that inky void
with whispers once enjoyed....

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Face fractured with fear.
Fumbling, foraging , through frames,
Strangers in photos,
Calling from a distant shore
"Come, join us, be loved once more"...

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Bells have tolled
  Sirens have rung
Lips tasted tears
  Songs been sung

We've remembered the day
  in our fumbling way
Words without fanfare
  dissolved in the air...

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After an hour I gave up in disgrace,
fumbling, embarrassed and too a red face,
with my girlfriends bra,
and feeling like a galah - 
wish I hadn’t put it on in the first place....

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I saw a little spook fumbling for my key
"Oh Oh what a damn clumsy job it must be"
He showed me his creepy rear
And cerebral hemisphere
" Pinch pennies" that he said, and began to pee....

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let me get a hug

haven't  hugged you
in a million years

the sweetness of
his lips
covered her mouth.....

invalidating the 
forgotten years

and

the fumbling hug
became a kiss...

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Into the brave new world
I (not so) boldly go
Staring into the sun
And jumping at shadows
Stumbling over my own feet
Down an unfamiliar road
Fumbling towards ecstasy
Seeking the infinite soul...

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a hunger
      for understanding
      fumbling
      in
      banality
a wilderness
             of audacity
oscillating
between
     extremes
of 
emotion
   unfinished
..desiring
   perfection...

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Flummoxed foxes fleeing, fumbling forward from furious
Hurried heaving hounds howling hourly hitherto

Stop

Withered weathered wild woods would weep when
Man made memories murdering many mammals 

Stop...

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You talk, but all I hear is you have nothing to say.
I'm just trying to make myself into a person I don't hate.
Fumbling for a character when all the world's a stage.
Shrieking at an audience deafened by cliches....

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They were found 
By the dark tree 
Barren 
They were left 
By the sea 
Tumultuous 
They must walk 
To the freedom 
Of that summers day 
When rain will come 
To quench the thirst 
Of a new generation 
Fumbling in the dark 
And crying out loud....

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First weekend of the summer when they're calling for no rain
It's almost August, the forecasters it must find it quite a strain
Hearing all the grumblings
Someone's been fumbling
Trusted with the forecast, have they been smoking up again???...

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Virgins were we both when first we met
Each fumbling encounter; awkward,
Nudity was a new experience.
United eventually in passionate embrace
Sex was discovered; much later, love.


Planet Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri
Date wrote: 06-June-2021...

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Unmotivated,
I’d dropped my creative side
on the kickoff line
until I picked it up at halftime.

Fumbling,
I now use things I know little about
to explain things I know even less 
about life.

Touchdown when I get it right!


For Nathan's 
short poems Poetry Contest...

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Toddling
stumbling
fumbling
tumbling
are some nights,like toddling stumbling child,
tipsy turvy fumbling tumbling mind.






© kashinath karmakar(17th August 2011)
===============000==============

Placement:7th;(August 2011)

Contest:Tyburn

Sponsor:Dr.Ram Mehta...

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Oh, the scent
The tingling touch
Of unseen fingers on the air
Teasing instincts interest.

The essence of the feral
Laying lust upon the wind
Hope among the hedges
An unknowing provocateur

Fumbling with the dark art
Of pheromonal folly.


John G. Lawless
©10/25/2022...

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Mother, Middle Aged.


Forlorn, she sinks into the abyss of a middle aged
mother,  her pupae no longer the apple of her eye.
Baffled, she sees her cocoon tear open and barge
hastily, fumbling in quest of sham grown ups’ pride.
A mother she remains, middle aged. Spiteful and void....

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Suddenly, the full moon 
pops up soundlessly. I was stunned 
by sheer nakedness.

*

Will you catch a 
butterfly for my reluctant wine ?
I had invited the black roses.

*

A city does not 
sleep any more, after the call 
of service,fumbling with the locks.  


Satish Verma...

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