Sidled Poems | Examples

The Pooh and Piglet

Pak Piglet slowly sidled up to Pooh
To whisper: just I’m making sure of you,
He took his friend’s front paw
In hand with glee and awe--
A selfish friendship Pooh will one day rue.
__________________________
Happenings |33.07.2025| friendship
Note: In Sanskrit there is a term for selfish friendship: badarayana sambandha. Pakistan thanked Trump for ending their conflict with India that badly mauled them. Trump did next to nothing though. Grateful, Pak assured him to nominate for Nobel peace prize and offered his family a lucrative deal in crypto currency. Trump Invited Pak army chief to White House for dinner and praised the country profusely. The two scratching each other’s back, as a children’s tale goes: aho roopam aho dhvanim! 
-	Credit (Pooh and Piglet theme): AA Milne, The House at Pooh Corner.

Funeral

She left at the yawn of dawn
Between fog-densed waking hour
And rain-soused grey morning.
Veiled, her image was laced in silhouette.
She stood behind the fog-rain, a dark
Painting, sketched in black crayons of
Languor.
Her breath, one streak of ink
Of a satanic fresco on a dingy subway.
And the breath of the rain was heavy,
Brewed in hauteur -
So was the world between us two,
Lame and proscribed.
She wandered through flighty directions.
Grouches filled her lugubrious lungs,
Blotches on the sludged track, echoing
Her slouch.
She was one mass of trembling grief.
I was one hulk of ruinous pain.
Between us, the funeral of love.
Threnodies held court on the once soft
Yolk of hugs that sensitized an ageing
Romance.
Dawn darkened with the pulse of grief
Rain pelted the senses held by solemn
Consternations, recreating a fruitless
Void of hollow trepidations.
She lurched and sidled towards the
Crag-lined route, towards earth’s drooling
Beck... and I knew the funeral
Was over.

A Fish Tale

      A fish popped out of the lake
          from his scales the water he done shaked 
      looked at me, curiously, wondering, “Is he awake?”

      Well, I was still as a statue, my rod loose in my grip
         the fish sidled over, his tail pistol-whipped
            me right out of my fancy fishing ship

      Folks, I done learned my lesson: Never take a fish for a fool
         ~ He may have spent more time than you in school

On the Path Less Traveled by Accident

Did we meet when stars aligned?
Or when fate dragged our paths,
to coincide, to bump together, 
sidled up, side by side, 
by coincidence, in time and space?

Or did we slide into the same path by accident?
Enchanted to dance by chance, 
with happenstance and serendipity,
on a path less traveled?

We met in a deserted park,
in a deserted ghost town,
on a path way off the beaten track
Both coming to see how rising salinity
in the district's groundwater,
through excessive water use,
had ruined the crops, 
ruined the town's livelihood.
Everyone had left.
One of us came here, 
to yen its cause, 
the other with pen, 
to write a report.

In the park was a swing
with a rusty chain and black rubber seat.
The wind made the swing, 
swing to and fro, to and fro,
emitting a haunting creak.
Which drew us to share the
pathos of the scene.
Which to us, thus met,
made all the difference.

This path, this town, this park, 
this swing, this wind, this creak,
by accident, 
made all the difference!

We Could Not Get Sergeant Wolf's Goat

We could not get sergeant wolf to smile or swear
We were annoying and threw thing at him through the air
He did not lose his temper or even look our way
I found out he has eighteen grand-wolves later that day.

I guess you have eighteen grand-wolves I said to him later.
He started to smile, and his teeth were large like a gator.
I think I liked him better when he did not look or move.
Got to go! I lied, as I sidled away with my usual groove.

Vanilla Grace

A spirited moon skipped and skid
across the silent snowy steppes
as a pale sun sidled and slid. 

Her passionate sensuous steps
softly seduced the stars to shine
across the silent snowy steppes.

I beseeched the night to be mine,
singing a sentimental song,
softly seduced the stars to shine.

The Milky Way formed a sarong
surrounding me with deep desire,  
singing a sentimental song.

I followed lustily in dire
need of fragrant vanilla grace,
surrounding me with deep desire.

The mystical night chided me,
a spirited moon skipped and skid.
Her radiance had blinded me
as a pale sun sidled and slid.

Falling In Love

A beauty!  I saw her strolling in main street,
A face that launched a thousand ships.
And a mere working boy with no glamour,
How could I aspire to kiss those lovely lips?

Oh well, you can have the cake but not eat it.
Soon she entered a boutique and changed
Into a gorgeous sexy outfit that made me gloat.
I could not go to meet her.  I felt estranged.

I hurried on afraid I could be a stalker.
I noticed the women around, all nondescript.
Dared I return and catch another glimpse?
I wondered what dress she might have equipped.

And then I saw her dressed in tattered jeans.
She was just like other women, no longer a queen.
I sidled up to her and boldly asked
My friend, where are those fabulous dresses green?

She laughed like a nightingale and smiled sweetly.
It's just a trade to entice others to buy such ware.
I offered her a coffee and something to eat.
Tell me your name, mine is just plain Claire.

My tale must end there, your choice how it ends.
But marriage was evident not just ordinary friends.

Java Jonesing Blues

Quitting coffee and should it kill me
Want to say that it's been fun

Sidled up to this specific teat
Not long after my first weaning done

My body trying to clue me in
As I clung to my drug of choice

No longer willing to  continue
In stifling my tired kidney's voice

Just read it slows down the flow of lymph
to a toddling terrapin crawl 

Immunities highway like that of L.A.'s
Cannot abide it you all

My plan to reduce to a cup a day
Followed by a day after another

It's warmth will be missed the aroma as well
As a weanling ripped from its mother (sob)


Truthfully not looking forward to
Shifting to water and herbal teas

Saying goodbye to my old friend caffeine
Long considered the hairy bee's knees

What Are the Ems

You can have all the produce in my garden except the Ems.
What are the Ems? I asked my more enlightened friends.
His magical mushrooms, they have minds and they talk.
I laughed at their imaginations; my laugh much like a squawk.

Einstein was here, and he declared these mushrooms wise.
He doused them with empathy, intelligence, no surprise.
I stared at the speaker. Was she insane, crazy, or worse?
She took a tiny brain out of her magnificent purse.

I captured his brain, she told me. It is right here, listening.
It was dull and gray with bits of pink, in no way glistening.
Is that an EM? I asked her, wondering still about those.
No, and you’d best not ask anyone about them, they’re froze.

Frozen Ems, mushrooms with minds, and Einstein, all in one day.
I started making excuses, and I sidled quickly and comfortably away.
Did you get any produce? The farmer asked me with concern.
No, I replied. Then I ran over the hill and hid under a miniature fern.

Pool Noodle Doodles

A bug who loved to doodle
was floating on a noodle.
He had to get some sunscreen;
the sun was getting brutal.

He could not reach the lotion;
he needed a commotion
to interrupt the pristine,
make waves just like an ocean.

He saw a pretty spider;
he sidled up beside her
to ask if she would help him
because she was a glider.

She glided to a lady
Who was a big fat ‘fraidy.
A-shriekin’ and a-yelpin’,
she made the pool all wavy.

Our bug packed his caboodle,
then hopped out off his noodle.
It seems that he was last seen
astride a golden doodle.

So if you don’t want cancer,
and you’re a take-a-chancer,
a long-haired dog romancer,
doodles may be your answer.

I Saw You Standing There

That day we met
‘twas summer ‘63
at the local hop
you sidled up to me
You took my hand 
  we danced 
     my heart 
        my soul 
          were way up high          
almost touched the sky

You walked me
to my bus stop
Bid me a fond farewell
We were to meet   
   same day
     same place
      same time
a week from now

That truly was the longest week
Oh how I longed 
for you to meet
    to sing 
      to dance
        to talk romance

The day arrived 
I had survived
I saw you standing there
   I knew
     for sure
never looked for more
We were the perfect pair

That boy in ‘63
He stole my heart
away from me
And sixty one years on
   a piece
     of my heart
       was now gone
When you left 
  oh how I cried
      bereft
        the day you died

Looking back over
my life with you
What more could I desire
My darling dear
true love of my life
For when you chose me for your wife
  my husband
     my lover
       there was no other
              I am 
       I always will be…
           ~~~~
   Your ever loving wife

Written 11th April 2022

Contest A BRIAN STRAND PREMIER CHOICE
Sponsor Brian Strand
2nd PLACE

Till Death Do Us Part

In a not-so-ideal
wedding idyll,
a homicidal,
recent bride’ll
get ideas,
not be idle.
When he shut-eyed, ill,
then she sidled
with a bridle,
fastened idol,
both hands tied, till
in came tidal,
claimed suicidal,
got car title,
left for Slidell.

Way Too Old For Him

The cowboy leaning on the counter took an interest in my sister.
I watched him watching her, and I felt uncomfortable.
Another guy sidled closer to me.  I was instantly irritated.
Just because I am in a bar does not mean I want to be bothered.
She is a bit mad, isn’t she? He asked.

I looked at his face. He was smiling, but not leering like the cowboy.
He had an honest face, he was young like her.
Are you into madness? I asked.
He gave me a lingering look. I could be enticed.
I threw back my head and laughed. I am way too old for him.

How To Fake a Smile

Written 28 October 2021


I went to a singles bar for the first time.
The lounge was full of smoke and smell
of heavy liquor.  The bartender quite busy.
Music blared “Smoke gets in your eyes”.
I smiled despite a small tear that got lost in my beard.

I sat alone at the counter.  Too many people, but  
I did not like to sit alone at a table where I would be
more conspicuous.  Finally the drink arrived.

I looked at it with distaste.  Am I to drown
my sorrows by getting stinky drunk?
Frankly it was not my style.  But what was I to do?

A woman sidled up to me.  Asked for a drink.
She was already half drunk.  I gave her my own.
I smiled.  She stared at me.  Was I happy there?

I did not answer.  Crying because she left me.
Was not going to make things better.
So I smiled despite the fact that it was a phoney smirk.

The bartender promptly put another drink before me.
I drank it up and left into the cold air outside.
It was then that I could not help but cry.


FICTION

A Case For Insomnia

It’s Friday night down at the depot,
and it’s closing in on half past four,
the knock off bell won’t send us home …
Friday night it’s the pub we adore.

The pub’s a great place to relax,
and spend valued time with our mates,
where we laugh, and we joke up a treat,
in surroundings imbibing creates.    

But alas there is always somebody,
who is finding themselves in a fix,
they drift off on their own to a corner,
quite depressed and refusing to mix.

Now I’d noticed poor Patrick Dorling,
there looking quite morbid and sad,
sitting alone with glass in his hand,
amid nothing else wishing to add.

So I sidled up close to poor Patrick,
asking ‘what is the matter now Pat?’
Patrick replied, ‘my good wife Mary
has a habit she needs to combat.’

‘I’m finding her restless and angry,
the looks on her face are forlorn,
and I cannot break her out of
staying up until two in the morn.’

‘Good heavens’ I said to poor Patrick,
‘Is her insomnia fairly severe?’ 
‘Oh no’ Patrick downcast shook his head …
‘Mary’s waiting for me to leave here.’

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