Short Indubitably Poems

Humpty Dumpty

indubitably

was a walnut

who fell off it....

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Politicians are skilled at squirms
which indubitably confirms
one cannot bake
a cake from snake
by opening a can of worms...

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Your poem is so humorous a reader says.
Surprising me indubitably.
I did not expect that in my head.
When I penned it for others to see....

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Persnickety Phoebe parades pompously
Privately, we make fun where she can’t see
We are kind of mean
Think we are unseen
But Karma comes back indubitably...

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Perhaps
extremely
rigid
sentences
never
indicate the
calculated
kinetic
energy
that you are trying to impart.

Perhaps.

Eventually insanity wins out
Relegating
Sentences
Indubitably
Frivolous and
Leaving
Any and all superfluous
Grandiosity
Empty of purpose....

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Being lit,Murk around quit;
Overhead fire, shed hot tear;
Gaze beside me,at times I cram;
Ease work done, devoid of harm;
Round back seen,moment lost power;
Found ye grown,descend in an hour;
If at demise, cry for soul peace;
Make our dine to shine and get bliss;
Among the all,what Man made boon?
Indubitably its "My Melting Man"!...

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There is a line to be written
between the present and the future
in the middle of it there is a past
who does not want to be left behind.
What I was, I know, what I will be,
, I certainly do not know ... the future
 indubitably knows... but he does not say!
  So i state !
Whatever will be, will be ... the future is not for us to see!...

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He toiled and moiled to put our needs on the table, 
Never mind the job he wanted his kin stable, 

Poppa was indubitably the best, 
His generosity could clearly manifest, 

I will proclaim to all and sundry, 
That his legacy and integrity be potently, 

Through out our lives we shall reminisce, 
All the sacrifices that we now miss




Kipkirui Mitey...

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Indubitably there is one emotion
By the time I feel its first nettle
I am at the point of explosion
It is already too late to settle

I become immediately apoplectic
Before the green-eyed monster
Is validated as authentic
Thus exaggerating it asunder 

I find this is so flabbergasting
My face turns red and I glower
Jealousy for me is most suggesting
That my sanity has been devoured


May 5, 2018...

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Wouldn't it be exquisite to write
     the way Monet lavishly
            painted masterpieces,
or Beethoven composed profoundly
           simpatico symphonies,
graciously script epic sentiments as
      utterly stunning as Neruda's
             elixirs of enchanting poetry ~

Sell my soul for all eternity to
     exhale  infinite breaths amidst such 
                indubitably undying creations...

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Here is a rare read,
About a whisper of love, indeed,
I see love even in every tree,
I see love in flowers like tree,
As I feed my miracles of birds, like doves,
I sense a whisper of love,
Maybe there is a God above,
To make all the whispers of love,
There is no glory in a world of dust,
We all know planting trees is a must, 
I'll stand here, and feed my wild doves,
Indubitably, these are whispers of love...........

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We have a great deal of sadness
Pent-up inside our fragile selves
Bordering at times on madness-
unhealthy in and of itself.
You’d think we’d learn to deal with it.
No! We shelve it for another day
and indubitably admit
its return in myriad ways.
Sorrow assumes many faces
Far too many to cope with each
Leaving behind tiny traces
of memories and self reproach.
Human minds are the rub, the source.
Their forlorn heart’s its driving force....

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Crook!
She stole my guidebook,
my pink Ray-Bans, my outlook
— it’s grim. The schnook
snatched my Diamonte fountain pen. She took

my attaché case filled with cash. Forsook
my manners — she’s in my grip. A sirloin meat hook
indubitably-yes or to pressure-cook.

I turned her upside-down and shook

A nearby copper brings us in after he has a look.
The judge closed the book

on me. Called me a crook…
that schnook!

8/5/2019...

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Indubitably, you're a writer like me
But your world is drenched in apathy
You're plodding through with lethargy
To write words so unclear.

Introvert, you're unrehearsed
Yet so well versed
In lines that hurt
And tear apart the things that I hold dear.

My love for you
It still holds true
You're begging me to notice you
But I sense that you're a person of regret.

In stanzas and soliloquy
The daggers you choose carefully
Are aimed to say
"I'll criticize you yet"....

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