"baffled" poems
Once, a boy came, new to the coast
tall figure, his skin supple dusted with white,
he was silent at times, quite
sometimes laughing like a child,
vulnerable yet strong, she sees.
The mermaid was in awe, but she didn’t realize,
a crashing wave, that’s what he is.
Day by day, she drowned herself
In thoughts under her ocean dream;
baffled by his presence, in doubt she continued.
On the third tide of their apogee,
without warning the boy vanished,
like a wind, leaving no trace, not a foam.
Devastated, in losing her one precious pearl,
the mermaid cried in remorse.
Every night she sang to the skies,
until she felt an ethereal glow,
deep down she knew
what was needed to be said.
A celestial granted, for once again they met.
In valor with trembling hands, a note she had professed.
Prospective and believing still
the prince she had wished for,
turned out to be nothing but a loving sin.
The mermaid smiled as she disappeared into the sea
with every song now comes a broken, and shattered dream.
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 10:33 AM UTC
Shadow man,
an unusual human being without a name.
You called me one night out of the blue
and asked me to run away with you.
I was baffled,
but as night turned into day
we both jumped in your boat and sailed away.
You told me about the lonesome life you live and how you've sailed these seas for many years and was in search of a hand to hold.
You told me that I was the most beautiful flower there was.
Your world was without a sky and you told me I am the calm of the storm,
and that I should stick around for awhile.
You showed me all the constellations
and all at once I was lost in space.
I closed my eyes and smelled the sea salt and felt the ship shake smoothly over these waves.
I laid here with you.
We landed on many civilized city's ports and explored for more.
We'd have lunch in the woods, see movies, and explore the inside of museums.
Breathe it in because there will come an end.
You told me I wasn't the first you ran away with.
There have been others but in the end they always broke your heart.
You cried to me on the nights memories found their way back into your mind
and knew that one day I'll be the one causing tears when my time ends.
If I leave
don't worry, don't weep
dry your eyes so you can see light
and notice that I'll be in the stars.
I'll be trapped in time.
Just sail on and find the edge of the ocean
and become friends with the moon, and stars above,
before the curtain falls.
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 9:05 PM UTC
Split Personality
You wanna know what goes on in my head,
if you only knew, you would drop dead.
Anger, depression and suicidal thoughts,
maybe its all those little brain clots.
Conceited, vain and very egotistical,
confused, shocking and very mystical.
I'm eccentric, bizarre, and always unconventional,
my vision is always three dimensional.
I take the path that's less traveled,
things I do leave people baffled.
Even I don't know what I'm doing,
but trust me, I always got something brewing.
I practice in the art of deception,
I'm admired by my depth of perception.
I don't know wrong from right,
I see everything in black and white.
I'm a man you don't wanna meet,
I lie, steal and always cheat.
I'm flirty, ***** and very perverted,
if we're alone, I will leave you deserted.
I'm **** hot and always aroused,
every girl I have slowly browsed.
I love assault, ****** and ****
but I only write it for an escape.
Inside my head is torture and pain,
I'm certified and clinically insane.
Sometimes I take my medication,
when I don't, I'm on a permanent vacation.
I'd do anything to become famous,
even **** Donald Trump in his ****
I've crossed over to the dark side,
to hell, I've already applied.
There is no help for me now,
before I go please give me a bow.
I'll accept a standing ovation,
sick and tired of all the aggravation.
I used to be so nice and kind,
into heaven, I got denied.
Don't pay attention to the things you read,
I entertain you til my fingers bleed.
Ask anybody, I really a great guy,
just like REO Speedwagon, its time for me to fly.
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 2:18 PM UTC
Who is she? I do not know.
Inhuman. She tangles my mind like no other.
One look, she glances over your soul
With her pale hues and feline eyes,
I have been baffled with her tight grasp.
Celestial. Confusing. Crafty. Cold.
That she is,
She has casted a spell on me,
That can only be broken by her.
Who is she?
Puzzled. I have been,
A witch? Could it be?
Her voice is melodiously venomous,
I have been mesmerized,
She has clung to my soul.
A distinguished walk,
The childlike enthusiasm,
An enigmatic character,
Her signals are vague,
She is full of anonymity.
Marked with beauty, a mask hides her personality
The possessor of the key to my heart,
She is a mystery.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
the earth is curved - sure y’all knew that.
but to get to the Northwest,
Interstate 84
ain’t le route plus directe
nope curve north to Ontario,
wave to Bex as I cross over
London and Toronto, also can’t recall
which poet from Rochester hails,
or did they shuffle off to Buffalo?
Crossing Erie, Huron, and Michigan Great Lakes all,
brings to mind
my mother’s birthplace,
Last of the Mohicans,
and the three years I did in the Cleveland Penitentiary,
where sun was illegal and baseball was a pretend play
of cowboys and Indians
but by god, it made me
the penitent fella I am today
Look skyward to Montreal,
yes, there he is, the Leo Priest,
the baffled king,
blessing this poetic meet ‘n greet trip
with a smiling unsurprising
hallelujah
Apparently some US citizens still can traverse O Canada,
even if one forgot their passports,
and are not PNG’s (Persons Not so GREAT)
over Minneapolis shed a tear for Diane,
a poet- gone-missing, and wonder if you reader come from
St. Cloud, Fargo or Duluth, Bismarck or Aberdeen,
surely they still speak poetic English there
in a twangy metering methodology - well, message me asap
wow there really is a Saskatoon!
the pilot asks us to lean left in our seats
to help turn the plane
so we go to Portland and not to Vancouver...
me thinks he might be a touch Rockie Mountain High,
considering we are at 30 thousand something Imperial,
as he walks the main cabin with an oxygen mask and a
huuuuuge grin
see the distant Cascades
through a crack in the shuttered windows,
must be close to “the coast”
(as if, harrumph, there were but one)
ah, words in the clouds, ripe for the plucking
must be getting close to Oregon,
where poets grow on trees, woody words like ****
and log-float poems down the Columbia to the sea
gonna drink me some poets
under the table cause this
trip I ain’t no driving and I am already
“flying” ‘n scribing and arriving
on a high tide and a good wind
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 5:47 AM UTC
to be honest with you,
i didn't plan on making it this far.
i didn't plan anything at all.
and i'm always baffled by my lack of motivation,
but i forget i've already made my biggest accomplishment by
being here today.
Jul 10, 2018
Jul 10, 2018 at 9:23 PM UTC
Did you see the dolphin with hands?
They grew from fins
and now he flips cakes,
serving them up for dozens of fans.
Did you see the dolphin with hands?
His keepers were shocked
when they saw the fingers,
long and gray with nails on the ends.
Did you see the dolphin with hands?
He can juggle, he can fight,
there is no one that he can’t smite.
Oh, and he makes houses out of sand.
Did you see the dolphin with hands?
Scientists are baffled,
doctors confused, because dolphins
shouldn’t be able to play in hair metal bands.
Did you see the dolphin with hands?
His name is Finn, despite the lack of them,
and he is a mutant fish
who can flip pans.
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 1:42 PM UTC
On the land molded by footsteps and ruled by obnoxiously bleached clowns,
Visited by swarms of neighborhood guttersnipes and the opulent from uptown.
Allured by the traditional Irish circus music and the grinding of rusted gears,
To arrive at dawn and to leave only when the night sky is tired of fireworks and flares.
Skittish and gleaming eyes would roll on the floor, struck by daze and lost in wonderment,
At the marvel of giant steel rides and god forsaken and socially foretoken genetic mutants.
The word of a woman with two faces and the boy with a tail would make any catholic priest run.
Amusing the rational ones, alongside the man with elastic skin and the girl with the forked tongue.
The opera lady with outlandish proportions and tumorous lips sings to break a piece of cheap glassware.
Little do people know,that the magician’s red gloves are actually stained with blood of rabbit that disappeared.
Their noses get caught in the medley of fragrances from the exotic perfumes shop,
Blended with the saccharine tang from the stall that sells candy floss and soda pops.
Indulging over the overly priced confectioneries at the stall of the baker with the forbidding grin.
Try it a hundred times,try it a thousand,you’ll never get the fifth one right in the game of rings.
People will come out screaming from the haunted house,only to laugh about it later,
Little do they know,that skeletons that drove them pale and white couldn't get any realer.
They’ll jostle and struggle to make their way through the crowd to various rides and attractions.
Hustling to navigate through the maze the carnival is, encountered by countless illusions.
And once your body wears out and senses give in,that’s when you've truly entered the carnival state of mind.
Your ears stinging ,nose stifled,tongue baffled, eyes exhausted,and your sense of judgment blinded.
That’s when my masked act begins,the most profitable act at the carnival,
Diving into the heart of the crowd,to draw an act of brilliance lasting an ephemeral.
Slithering across the crowd in a different disguise every hour,concealed by stealth.
Sneaking into every nook and corner and slipping my furtive hands into your pockets for a little bit of wealth.
Only to dine with the clowns and the carnival family at the haunted house at the end of the day.
And of course, rabbits for dinner,if the baker may
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 3:13 AM UTC
I always assume
that kids know how to be kids.
I'm sure we weren't taught the skills, were we?
No-one pointed to a tree and said,
"See that? Climb it."
And if Craig or Chris or Jamie pointed a finger
and said, "Bang!",
no referee had to discreetly whisper
"You're supposed to fall down now."
But something as natural as breathing
is falling by the wayside.
These small humans aren't kids -
not like we were.
Company is a chore for them,
screen-seeking solipsists,
and I worry for their future, constantly.
If my six-year-old self
were to appear amongst them
he would stand, baffled,
full of useless power
Like Spiderman
on the Norfolk Broads.
Feb 12, 2011
Feb 12, 2011 at 5:13 AM UTC
There’s a girl with curly brown hair
Whose sense of humour is so rare,
She leaves people baffled,
Their simple brains addled
As she spouts one-liners with flair.
Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 12:15 PM UTC
the people whose job is to
understand the multiverse
can't figure this world out
rid·dle ˈridl/noun: riddle; plural noun: riddles
1. | a question or statement intentionally
phrased so as to require ingenuity
in ascertaining its answer or meaning,
typically presented as a game;
a person, event, or fact that is difficult
to understand or explain.
"the riddle of her death" [puz·zle
ˈpəzəl/verb: puzzle; 3rd person present:
puzzles; past tense: puzzled; past participle:
puzzled; gerund or present participle:
puzzling
1. cause (someone) to feel confused because
they cannot understand or make sense of something:
"one remark he made puzzled me"
synonyms: perplex, confuse, bewilder,
bemuse, baffle, mystify, confound;
faze, stump, beat, discombobulate
"her decision puzzled me"
perplexed, confused, bewildered,
bemused, baffled, mystified, confounded,
nonplussed, at a loss, at sea;
flummoxed, stumped, fazed, clueless,
discombobulated
"a puzzled look on her face"
baffling, perplexing, bewildering, confusing, complicated, unclear, mysterious, enigmatic, ambiguous, obscure, abstruse, unfathomable, incomprehensible, impenetrable, cryptic
"his explanation was rather puzzling"
antonyms: clear
think hard about something difficult
to understand or explain;
"she was still puzzling over this problem
when she reached the office"
| [ ] think hard about, mull over,
muse over, ponder, contemplate,
meditate on,
consider, deliberate on, chew over, wonder about
"she puzzled over the problem"
solve or understand something by thinking hard;
synonyms: work out, understand,
comprehend, sort out, reason out, solve, make sense of,
make head(s) or tail(s) of, unravel, decipher; informal: figure out
"she tried to puzzle out what he meant"
noun: puzzle; plural noun: puzzles
1. [ ], [ ] ( );
a game, toy, or problem designed
to test ingenuity or knowledge;
short for jigsaw puzzle (see jigsaw)
a person or thing that is difficult to understand
or explain; an enigma:
"the meaning of this poem will always be a paradox"
synonyms: enigma, mystery, paradox,
conundrum, poser, riddle, problem, quandary;
"the poem has always been a puzzle"
late 16th century (as a verb): of unknown origin:
synonyms: puzzle, conundrum, brainteaser, problem,
unsolved problem, question, poser, enigma,
quandary; informal: stumper
"an answer to the riddle"
verb/archaic
verb: riddle; 3rd person present: riddles;
past tense: riddled; past participle: riddled;
gerund or present participle: riddling
1. speak in or pose riddles.
"he who knows not how to riddle"
solve or explain (a riddle) to (someone).
"riddle me this then"
Origin
Old English rǣdels, rǣdelse ‘opinion,
conjecture, riddle’; related
to Dutch raadsel,
German Rätsel, to read
Jul 23, 2018
Jul 23, 2018 at 12:19 AM UTC
I've spent my whole life wondering,
About life and its gift,
Why I was sent on this earth,
Each day I feel a lift.
I'm baffled, yet content,
To wherever I please to go,
I'm thinking about my life,
To where I stop thinking and fully know.
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 6:33 PM UTC
Sometimes the flashbacks
Can be picture perfect like a gallery
Every once in a while
I struggle with what life's like actually
As the memories resonate
Depression eventually catches me
It always baffled me
and still rattles me
Why did my best friend
have to be a casualty
I'm setting my GPS
as I pull down the street
For Arlington Cemetery
in Washington D.C.
Whenever I feel the need
I just sit there with him
No reason to speak
I let the ground beneath me
relieve some of the grief
Then just before I leave
I about face and say
You'll always be with me
Semper Fi my brother
Rest in peace Marine
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 11:03 PM UTC
Unheard
She screams as she struggles
The sound of her cries muffled
Her assailant's eyes look baffled
Her red eyes cry, her sobs stiffled
She tries to run but she is stopped
To the ground she is tackled
Her effort to run is attacked
And to the floor she is dropped
She tried to fight, she did, she tried!
She cried too much, she did, she cried!
She aimed to bite, oh yes, she did!
But the result she got was not what she bid
She wanted to hide, but all that was hid
Was only just this evil deed
An evil deed, indeed it was
An evil deed that no one saw
Evil as it was, no one saw
If someone had seen, she would cry no more
But at present her pride was no more
May 28, 2023
May 28, 2023 at 4:45 PM UTC
.
•unchain me from unrest•
shovel me out of the dirt•
une- arth
my conge- sted chest•
let my secrets blurt•
let them
spill.....•
just for
the wor-
ld to see
•..string
me up...
..against
my will
•harvest
the fruits
of the bi-
tter tree•
let eyes
see what
will show
•...let feet
be caught
in stubbo-
rn mud...•
let prying minds be baffled.....by
what they would come to know
•...let wanting hearts choke...on
the dirges of my stale blood....•
now dig me up quickly•'cause
it's been far too long..... and i
have been readied•exhume
all of me completely•for
no longer should i
remain as........
buried•
.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 7:36 AM UTC
When the hands of your journey reach down to guide
and that still small voice says you failed
Remember your shoes that have come through it all
Their laces have helped you prevail
One store gave you shoes of the rarest kind
Not only to try on but wear
One gave you shoes just like all the rest
To judge if life has been fair
The rarest of shoes are made from truth
And can walk you through any test
Through winds of lies and perceptions of men
This shoe lifts you over the best
I’ve had shoes from my mother and shoes from my dad
Shoes from my lovers and friend
Shoes that planned future and how it would be
Shoes that stood still tied together at ends
Always remember our journeys not measured
By those who stare down at our feet
Who are baffled by color, religion or sect
Or judge who our shoes help us meet
Wherever your journey may take you in time
Wear shoes that best suit you
The rarest of men whoever prevailed
Knew it came in the truth of their shoe
I wonder if heaven is really a place
Where our personal journeys complete,
And the shoes we wore here suddenly become
The truth that shines on our feet
Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 4:40 AM UTC
Once I met this girl
On my way to a desert of snow.
With a bucket and shovel in my hand,
A bit of chill on the spine,
I was trying to make a heap of snow
Then maybe a man of it.
She sat there for hours,
Watching me, smiling with fair cheeks,
While I saw her transforming bit by bit.
A carrot appeared on the nose,
Green scarf of a childhood winter
Cuddled her cold white neck,
And a fuzzy hat sat on her snow-head.
My baffled voice asked,
“How did you do that?”
Without opening her lips, she answered,
“Just dreaming bigger.”
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 1:55 AM UTC
What keeps you going is a mystery to me.
I'm baffled and yet I'm the most creative one.
What makes you roll around with so little faith?
How do you move around without hope?
For without hope and faith
Who do you depend on truly ?
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 12:25 AM UTC
On Monday I didn't go to school
because you wanted to take me out instead
We walked around the park downtown all afternoon
finally we perched ourselves in the gazebo
immersing ourselves in each other's thoughts
and wading in traded words.
My attention was shattered when a
lady bug landed on my knee. I was baffled-
I exclaimed that it's orange. You laughed and I
coaxed it onto my finger. And you told me
"Some of them are green you know"
I didn't know. I said "maybe those ones just aren't ripe yet"
I played with the bug for a few more seconds
until I felt your gaze, and I lifted my emerald greens
to your cup-of-coffee mahognies. You were looking at me
the way I imagined Gatsby must have looked at Daisy.
And you smiled a little too wide
for the stupid thing I had just said. You touched my chin
and kissed me gently, and i could feel your lips
still frozen in a grin.
But when I looked back down my coveted orange lady bug
had flown away-
and left no trace that he ever came.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 10:31 AM UTC
Author: Kristen Stevens
Current mood: frustrated
Anthony got a firetruck Lego set. The packaging says "ages 5-12". It also makes the claim "designed for easy building and instant play." Now I know he's only 4 but he's smart and not that far from 5 comparatively. I on the other hand am 28. Well outside the parameters age wise. Yet, this smallish box of tiny toys baffled me for over an hour. I have the directions, I've dug through the pieces, and am still mystified on occasion. As I'm searching for yet another microscopic piece of siren or whatever it was, I'm thinking..."5 years! I can't see any 5 yr-old sticking with this for this long without losing his mind. Then Mom would take it away because of the temper tantrum and never gets built. This is stupid! Where did that tiny loopy thing go?...etc" What part of an hour is "instant play" do they not own a dictionary? I could tell them.
Then once it's together, somehow Anthony keeps taking the windshield off. He's not actively disassemble it. He's just rolling back and forth on the floor going "whoo-whoo!" Lego's the most touchy toy on the planet. Maybe he'll get some more when he's 15.
Sep 21, 2010
Sep 21, 2010 at 7:52 AM UTC
The scuff of sneakers, boots and flats form the solid and stable beat.
Add in the chuckles, silences and brief interruptions to create the varying and rhythm.
All that remains is what goes unsaid but is speeding around in your mind.
That man from Uzbekistan,
He was telling us how peace and non-violence starts with us,
With middle-schools, with teens, with future leaders
To all those who laugh, when I say violence is never the answer,
You're the ones I worry about
That man from Uzbekistan,
He was speaking to us about how the kids had a parliament in Uzbekistan
Those kids had a say in what their fate would be
Believe it or not,
But adults are not the only things to make up our society...
Infants, toddlers, 5th graders, 8th graders, 11th graders, seniors, the diseases make up us, us..
So maybe parents shelter us too much, or not at all.
And kids throw fits in the grocery store
While teenagers attempt to jump off the nearest bridge
This is our society..
But we're like those kids in Uzbekistan
We have a say in what our fate will be
That man from Uzbekistan,
He was sharing out how blessed he was to be living here in the United States
Even though he could live in a much more peaceful and welcoming society.
I have no idea how many years i will be,
Or what has to happen before we get the message across..
That's what's played out isn't acceptable
The American people,
Were baffled, devastated, overwhelmed
That all those stereotypes really were mixed within us.
Obama stood up in that room
With a shaky camera man, staring while he slumped and grieved
He addressed our nation,
Homeland,
Country
Community
Family
About Newtown,
Clackamas Town Center
No leader should ever be forced to speak about children dying long before there time was up
Or about average people ducking and diving from bullets
Gun Control is only a little layer
And that's the start of our restoration to end up being a peaceful, safe country
It begins with how youth are shown how to solve problems.
I'm willing to reach my hand out to every single state in this country
And if that means devoting everything I've got to making our restoration successful,
Then so be it..
No leader or person should be raising candles to the sky for little kids to see that they are missed.
And I took all of this in at a Lebanese Luncheon
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 11:58 PM UTC
Yesterday my childhood came.
Playing and jumping around.
Unburdened, without any aim.
I kept on looking, spellbound.
With half eaten oblong eclair.
He ran after the goats herd.
Stopped to look at the hare.
And scared the tiny blue bird.
He moved slily to catch butterflies.
And plucked flowers from a tree.
I kept looking with yearning eyes.
Baffled, surprised he looked at me.
He ran towards the narrow ravine.
And disappeared into bushes green.
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 3:55 AM UTC
Find peace with your baffled mind
Induce equanimity in between your struggling breaths
Remedy the desolation with your flowing tears
Resign to the solitude with your dispirited shadow
Catch the glimpses with your swollen eyes
Wear a smile with your shivering lips
Seek solace in between your trembling fingers
Walk the steps with your hesitant feet
Gather strength from your shattered pieces
Feel your existence amidst your aching soul
Endure the sorrow with your feeble self
Preserve the love in your failing heart
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 12:25 PM UTC
Rhyme Mechanic
When talking to me, wear a hard hat,
or on your face, you'll fall flat.
I'm the **** and I'm where it's at.
People get down on your knees,
or I'll chop you down, like dead trees,
I never promise or make guarantees.
I take the roads less traveled,
never confused and rarely baffled,
in my web, you all get tangled.
None of you can compete,
I like girls that are petite,
never will I take a back seat.
It's me that people always follow,
the girls I meet always swallow,
so what if I'm very shallow.
I'm all that and a bag of chips,
my head's so big, everyday is an eclipse,
no one has a bigger bag of tricks.
I have an ego to the highest power,
I bloom more than any kind of flower,
don't mess with me, or I'll devour.
No other person is close to me,
I sting worse than a bumble bee,
to all the secrets, I hold the key.
Not my fault my head is big,
mess with me and I'll stuff you like a pig,
I shoot loads like an oil rig.
I'll break your heart and rip out your soul,
you can't touch me with a ten foot pole,
my life is always in cruise control.
This is me when I'm feeling manic,
no need to worry, no need to panic,
just call me the rhyme mechanic.
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 3:24 PM UTC