Surmised Poems

Laconic Teutonic

To cross the street Herr Biedermeyer
made a firm election:
the spot was safe – Gefahrengasse -
strictly one-direction.

But, looking south and stepping out,
he got a sharp surprise:
a car, approaching from the north,
was hidden from his eyes.

It knocked him in the air, and soon
had sped away and gone.
Herr Biedermeyer had a lot
to muse and ponder on.

No bones were broken, no blood shed:
no blasphemy, no oaths:
he knit his brow in thought, and frowned,
and dusted-off his clothes.

The German mind’s a splendid thing
(think Schopenhauer, Kant):
but nimbleness is not its bag –
it’s no-one’s corybant.

“The street’s one way, and thus,” surmised
this latter-day Von Papen,
“nothing hit me. I’m immune.
No accident could happen.”

What say you

As I sat I stared at the teeniest tiniest of hairs which by and by was not so easy for these naked eyes to quantify it was but one single prayer that then as it were by or perhaps with some sort of surprise that I realized that what I had just then surmised could only have been seen slantwise…

Eyes

For thirty years, I was lost, empty and devoid of purpose.
I surmised I would never thrive, deprived of love. 
Bereft of all that is good in this world. 
That was until I first saw my daughter’s eyes.

Before that day, my heart was shattered and cold.
Trauma, rage, sadness, had stolen my soul.
Apathy, depression, obsession with vengeance, consuming me whole.
A lifetime of misery had taken its toll.

However, in that moment, I realized.
The belief my hatred would never die was nothing more than a lie.
In that moment, when I saw my daughter’s eyes.
I could feel the hate that I carried inside.
Begin to die, paralyzed. 
Crippled by the purity within my daughter’s eyes.

I held her in my arms, and it all made sense.
My struggles throughout life were just a test.
I stood there, holding my reason for living close to my chest.
In a blissful state of awe, losing myself in my daughter’s eyes.

On that day, my daughter Alaina saved my life, saved my soul.
A life once thought lost, had since been found.
A soul that was damned, now shined brighter than ever.
This is why I will forever be indebted.
To my daughter Alaina, and her beautiful blue eyes.

Thar Be Treasure

Hie thee now by warning taught
The path ahead be peril fraught
Each breath taken carried past
Each step taken counted last
To strive against such dangers rife
Tis better chance the falling knife
For what portends from grand emprise
By hazards wroth may be surmised
That loot awaits at ventures end
For those whom Deaths hand doth forfend
But take thee heed and be thee ware
In trust and faith place not a care
For tho the treasure sets ye free
Success breeds many enemies

want a ride in my jalopy

Want a ride in my jalopy asked Uncle Lou
That depends said Shelly. Is a jalopy an athletic shoe?
Where would you get that idea? Her uncle asked, surprised.
It sounds like something you would wear on a foot; she surmised.

For a while

On a shiny day
In a shiny afternoon 
I saw you being so prudent
Your moss green t-shirt was your gradiant
Such a pretty thing 
Who knew you'd be something 

Every evening became a day dream 
When you showed up in front of me
For a while 
Just for a while 
My haunted house felt like garden
With your steps only for a certain 

Though you were so special 
I knew our ending 
Still I surmised we would be something 
So many nights I spend to think 
I could never make your mind sink 

All the thoughts 
All the regrets all the pains 
Went on vain 
Untill you showed up again 
Just to remind me you're not mine 

Just for a while
 just for a while 
I surmised we were something 
Key-chains remind me of you 
My November boy turned into a statue

Your voice still scramble my neck 
But now  I can't look back
I hope you can be happy with her 
Even though my prayers doesn't matter 
Just for a while 
For the seck of a blindingly bright morning 
I remembered your sign
I felt it would have been fine 
If you were mine

WHISPERS OF AUTUMN

WHISPERS OF AUTUMN

It wasn’t long before early man realised
The turn of the seasons, a pattern repeated
And that it could be predicted they soon surmised
A change to the last one, as each had completed

But Winter was a loud moan, as bitter winds blew
Feeling no guilt for all the growth it had deprived
Then a joyful Spring would bring forth everything new
And soon, a deep warm breath, as Summer had arrived

The subtlety of Autumn always delivered some peace
In a red and gold carpet from leaves that were green
A season of memories, as the year’s end of lease
But a canvas of colours that people have seen

One might just hear the messages that it will send
With the whispers of Autumn as it nears its end

His Overboard Tale

Ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and
freighted with the memories and the dreams of time.
—H.P. Lovecraft, The Best of H.P. Lovecraft:
Bloodcurdling Tales of Horror and the Macabre

His Overboard Tale

My captain bellows, “heave-ho.”
Off the plank I go, overboard.

I plunged into the night, entangled in
aberrant irises of the deep.

When my abject insanity rewinds,
I wish that I had swallowed the sea.

The kiss of salt and seaweed,
the wretch filled my lungs.

The Shes were more fish than maid
with huge hips and floundering tails.

The strange language of burbles,
their breasts made me gag…

Seahag hair, menacingly like Medusa’s.
I surmised sirens locks would actually bite.

My dreams capsized.
Why am I alive?

I’d rather that the chest be covered.
I shall never recover.

That’s why this landlubber
drinks and drinks, burbles.

At the end I was found on a rock.
I hit the rocks hard.

Swallow the water, lad.
Leave no room for desire.

Mermaids are a misnomer;
breaststroking in Bruichladdich proof.

Have a swim lad in this label
and stay far away from shore.

A Mound

Today I found, right on the ground,
A giant pile of dirt - a mound - 
Right where I walk, but did I balk?
No, since I still could walk around.

I was surprised, but I surmised
That gardeners had been apprised
Of lack of soil with which to toil
So it was left, as they'd advised.

This afternoon was opportune
To pass that spot and there was strewn
A tiny trace of what took place
This early morning, 12th of June.

The mound I'd passed had vanished fast,
Perhaps onto the gardens cast,
Its mystery now history
And certainly far from the last.

Just Men

And though I’ve surmised my eyes with
Men in different lighting
I see a fair facade of girls and you trying to glide him
It’s just my absurd JEALOUS DRUNK TONGUE mocking
Maybe, or maybe falling is haunting,
Maybe there’s some magnetic force around him
That shall I feel too, but for I forbid it

For the lie of my life, 
I don’t feel envy
For the lust of my life, 
He shall want me
Shall for the love of my life,
Shall permit is to let him in my runes,
But if shall there be, for the loss of my life,
Shall turn him in my next broken muse

Here, I lay
With his arresting smile near me,
I can always 
See why you would want him
For that, I too, want him too

His eyelashes sparkling like booze 
That burns me DRUNK ON LOVE like a fool
His painted cheeks as flush, so pink
Oil paints my face in sweat, unhinged
His smile, his height, his hair, his hands
Are too enticing too excite me, so unfair
His simple brown eyes defeating ocean blue
Cascades my plan of “not falling for you”

Touché, I am LOST and so are YOU.

The Happy Bows Turned Fake

Always I passed beside the bows
But never I personally taste its pain
Successfully once I entered its realm
Getting the hope of blissful  heaven .
Ah ! What a happy life you and me
Thinking never I will leave the bows
But you betrayed being other spouse
And I know now the pains of happy bows .
The nature started to sing when we united
Now I see them weeping days and nights
When I passed by and painfully observed
And now never the bows sing as you part .
Once you yet entered there after the parting
To make the bows clam and bliss with
Your pretended weep that the bows believe
But not so long the the bows surmised
The betrayed your  weeping was fake always .
When I at first dare not to entered the bows
To have the pains of their taste to the least
But now I have become the Friend of
The fake bows for Every days having no rest . 
Like the short clothed nature I surmise
You and I became united for a few days
For the peeping bows' happiness to taste
But the bows happiness turned fake Always .
Composed on :- 09/9/17 @ 12.00 pm

When Death Stopped for Me

Because I could not escape from Life –  
It rudely dragged me forth –  
The chaos swirled, consuming all –  
And Oblivion, my worth.

We raced through days – no time to rest –  
And I, a frantic pawn –  
My dreams and hopes, discarded, lost –  
For Life's relentless dawn.

We passed the cubicles, where souls toiled  
In fluorescent-lit despair –  
We passed the screens of endless tasks –  
We passed the coffee-stained chair.

Or rather – Life passed me –  
Its deadlines, like a storm –  
For only memos, spreadsheets, strife –  
My soul, a uniform.

We paused before a desk that seemed  
A prison of the mind –  
The keyboard barely visible –  
The mouse, a chain that binds.

Since then – 'tis eons – and yet  
Feels shorter than a breath –  
I first surmised the ticking clock  
Led me toward my death.

SHE QUESTIONED

   Shocked, as she questioned my manhood !
   I told her, “ My eyes are up here.”
   Couldn’t understand her attitude .
   What she really meant, not clear.

    We loved each other, there’s no doubt
    displaying all my cards open :
    How this awkward feelings to sprout,
    I could never imagine even.
    
   I didn't inquired what she had meant !
   Couldn't surmised, what went in her mind.
   I loved her and not to repent.
   But I had to leave her behind.
    
   Failed to analyse her problem,
   what happened to her to say so.
   What’s the reason to put me blame !
   Couldn’t endure as she hit my ego..

     Her feelings not to analyse.
     My amour not to exhibit.
     Actually couldn’t realise,
     how could I prove me perfect fit.
     
      Felt helpless, no urge to argue.
      What to do ? Absolute no way.
      Introspection offered no clue.
      No alternative: walked away.

Love Blooms

I had fun brushing the sky, with its impeccable blue,
then a sweep here and there of cloud’s silvery lining.
A few waffled spots amplified the intensity of hue.

Screws lightly driven at the base, release grassy knots.
A verdant green tenderly arcs toward the florid intimacy.
The blades of Spring, frothing, wild, free, like slingshots.

A xanthous sun surmised in the center-peak, brightening
the early american-orange blend that postulates a fence.
All before the placement of strong, sturdy, heightening.

Panels contain state-of-the-art gray-green stems and leaves.
Within the folds of the sun, magenta-pink petals. On left,
yellow and purple blossoms. On right, red and white cleaves.

Multi-hues spell out Love Blooms. Letters hidden in the grass.
It is Spring, a time to revive. It is April - my heart grieves, but
it is also alive with forty-four companion years for a lad & lass.

You Know Who

He had a big schnozzola
and sang with bold hat and smile.
Heard on the old Victrola,
one of his tricks to beguile.

It was fo, lo, dee, oh, do,
in old New Orleans city.
But that was ages ago.
Then, a new little ditty.

It's expressed something like this:
Ink a dink a dink a doo!
Does it mean I want a kiss?
A way to say I love you?

Now you should have won the game
by the funny lyrics shared.
You should have surmised the name
and the middle stanzas spared.

Good night Mrs. Calabash,
wherever you are.

• Short Surmised Poems
• Famous Surmised Poems
• Best Surmised Poems
• Read Surmised Poems
• Long Surmised Poems
• Surmised Quotes