"stumped" poems
Yes, it's seemingly a nonsensical rhetorical question, but, for that precise reason, it will illustrate a lesson, if you so desire to tag along for this short session.
Per Wikipedia, "The horse (Equus ferus caballus) is one of two extant subspecies of Equus ferus. It is an odd-toed ungulate mammal belonging to the taxonomic family Equidae." Hmmm... I much prefer that the horse goes "Nay," eats hay, has a mane, and is ridden by cowboys, cowgirls, Indians, equestrians, knights, jockeys, conquistadors, Mongols, and all. Even better, just point a horse out or otherwise show a picture to a kid and they will never be mistaken again. Even the littlest ones will never be stumped when faced with a rhino, tiger, giraffe, camel, and such.
Admittedly, there is a worry that we could be fooled with that of a donkey or mule. How come no one has taken advantage of this?! What a scam to get us rich! "Duh doy," you say, cause we all know when we see a horse, so why would anyone try to trick us with an *** Well I ask you in turn, why does anyone try to trick us with good art versus bad, let alone art versus crap? How could anyone fall for that?!
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 8:48 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
this constant
invitation
into stark mystery
is a story
i flounder
to find words for.
~
a glance,
more
than eyes looking.
beholden
entrancement,
upon feedback's
looping.
~
i am a crippled logician,
wrought with wonder
in the thrashing
static jungle,
of no conclusion.
~
this is a flash
this here, the flesh
a blinding
binding light,
obliterating,
without solution,
a living,
i tremble in.
~
i am stumped
i am little
so small
hung
here
in the
sky.
~
a suspended channel
of ideation,
filling, with
empty utterance.
~
i am confounded
i am large
too grand
to
get
ahold
of.
~
breathing
multitudinous,
full, with
contradiction.
~
a grandiose
enigmatic flux,
miniscule
and massive.
Mar 9, 2014
Mar 9, 2014 at 5:21 PM UTC
People sometimes ask me why I study so hard.
The question always stumped me.
Why do I study so hard?
Why do I stay up till the wee hours of the morning to study?
Then, I realised.
I don't have looks.
I don't have a good body.
I don't even have a good personality!
All I had was my brain, and my words.
Knowing this pushes me to study harder so that I won't be left behind.
Maybe I just want to belong.
I mean, each clique has it's distinctive trait which unites a group of people.
The good-looking (and typically popular people) group together.
The outgoing ones group together.
The athletically inclined ones group together(and they run in every single marathon that they can.)
I don't fit in any of those.
I can only hope that by studying hard, I will not only get good grades and a sense of accomplishment and pride but,
that I'll belong.
And that's all that I've ever wanted.
Sep 5, 2014
Sep 5, 2014 at 8:02 AM UTC
Have you seen it?
Seems like I've misplaced my mind.
I had it for a while...
Now it seems like I'm flying blind.
Can't piece out my thoughts,
a cacophony of riled up birds.
An **** of broken lines...
Overlapping and blurring into incomprehensible words.
Wandered in almost every direction,
but seem stumped at every end.
My mind is rapidly turning,
more foe and less a friend.
Confused is what it is at best.
Derailed far from its once reliable track.
Need to quickly regain my centre,
need desperately to get it all back.
Conjured this up...
With much difficulty.
Strenuous exercise...
For what once flowed freely.
Could it be...
That I have too frequently misused.
The welcome I've received,
that I have carelessly abused.
Ugh... Makes no sense...
Never have for a while.
Conflicting thoughts and words.
Crash into each other into a pile.
Need a reboot,
a reset and a restart.
Need to find my muse,
that stems from the heart.
Curse the mundane!
These excruciating hours of the day.
Begging for the nights,
to take me and my mind away.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
I thought you'd left us, long ago
desolate on a swing
rocking stale, dry grass and still air
crossing
never quite the hurdle
lost
unaware
sweating youth in this humidity
I thought we'd never make it past the
rusty red and brown of weathered fences
like
felt moun
They
tains
Made of dirt
(guilt)
and an endless turmoiling scent, still fresh
I thought you'd forlorned us
h e a v y r a i n and warm bodies
standing next to oxidized hoops
one adjacent to the other
The haze of the heat hard, but not impossible
to withstand swaying like the gust of wind, swaying
the blazing sun and my open palms swaying
Why was it here that it felt like you left us
stumped,
unaware,
consuming with no
idea of the Greater
2.
W H A T was it about inner cities
And skin that would tan
Or resist the sun
that made you mutter murky words
judgement
that made me hike a
K
A
E
P
that for so long made feel like a (lost) traveler
unable to come find my way D O W N.
Still on a mountain top
Never quite crossing the hurdle.
That’s how you wanted me
A
B
A
N
D O N E D.
3.
But my tongue made sounds
copper pots and plastic measuring cups
became the pious accompaniment
of a song sung inwardly
until it manifested
Words on lips
Lips willing to kiss the purple clouds made out of strange fruit and a high border walls over my hand and back
4. A Swimsuit and a pool that could cool
me
small children see the cicatrixes
But I walk towards the water; I have long abandoned shame.
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 11:24 PM UTC
The mannequin faceless,
Clothed in gold
With hands pandering svelte,
Remains an admired inanimate,
Albeit, atop whispers to a girl,
A 4-foot flower 3-feet my right,
Fretting and stumped;
Extrinsic a label – “undesirable.”
The mannequin faceless,
Her and hollow –
A towering nose above, stands
Opaque ivory, scarred come
Synonymous eyes with a symmetrical
Soul, assumed plastic perfection
And more importantly,
Soon to be sale.
The mannequin faceless
Convinced her new friend,
Her lesser, lopsided,
And natural not-so counterpart
To consume,
“Eat me, “eat me,” “eat it all,”
And then, “binge some more.”
The mannequin faceless
SCREAMS,
“BUY!” Amongst the other torments –
Born both fingers that can’t move and
The thumbs that shuffle, “One’s,”
To the girl that was never,
“Good enough;” so shared the
Tabloid’s mouth.
The mannequin faceless demands
And DEMANDS nothing less than to
Buy, starve, suffer and sacrifice
So that every “broken body,”
May embody polymer, and for a price,
A not so fair trade whilst
Considering old man gold,
The curator of conundrum
And the plastic he’s created.
Jul 31, 2015
Jul 31, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC
Oh, creativity
Why hast thou left me?
I should be writing
A photoem
But without creativity here with me
I cannot see
My brain cannot
Change these images
Into words, lines, stanzas
Without the translator
Of creativity
Oh, creativity
For too long you have been gone
One may say I am stumped
Or infected with writers block
But I say creativity
Went off on an errand
And here I am watching the clock
Waiting
For its glorious return
But
Hmm, creativity
I’m afraid I realized something
Maybe it was I
Who left you
Not the other way around
And my sight drops to the ground
I did not mean to leave you
To loose you
I never meant to hurt
Or bruise you
So, what say you,
Creativity
I’m sorry and
Now that I
Am back
Will you join me?
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 6:38 PM UTC
The thing that's annoyingly tragic is,
This cactus has plenty of adjectives,
So why can't I rhyme,
Like I do all the time,
And find myself right where the magic is?
I can't figure out a limerick,
About a cactus and its ******
******* it, it's stumped me,
I've been trying for centuries-
Or has it just been a few minutes?
Sep 25, 2020
Sep 25, 2020 at 1:26 PM UTC
My life is a paradoxical monstrosity
A contradiction in itself
Where to start?
Anywhere, everywhere, nowhere perhaps
Occupation,
I play with words.
How naughty does that sound?
Really, I'm in a complicated relationship with words, terms, definitions, metaphors
Writer by day, storyteller by night
And of course I love what I do
And I hate what I do
How very poetic of you!
Why thank you!
Sorry, the inner child speaks.
Back to writing,
And the moments of fantastic ecstasy
Where this jumble of verbs and nouns and adjectives you're trying to assemble
Clicks.
The bigger picture develops with crystal clear clarity
No fastidious statements
Or meaningless passages.
Just words, feelings, meanings
Soul.
That doesn't sound so bad you say
IT HAPPENS ONCE EVERY MILLENIA!
For the most I am frustrated.
Stumped to the point where rage overcomes and the only cathartic release is to sleep.
When I do manage to squeeze something out of the depths of my mind, it appears substandard, to say the least.
Zadie told me to get used to non-satisfaction
So I am satisfied with never been satisfied; does this make me satisfied?
Ow.
Please, I need an answer
I've been looking for answers for nineteen years,
But have I been asking the right questions?
Are there any answers?
Another question
No, that was the question
Confusion and befuddlment ravaging through your mind?
I recently realised there are no facts
Only really good suggestions by excessively knowledgeable and esteemed
I quite fancy being one of those guys
A visionary complete with the stereotypical glasses and overgrown beard
And I'd declare that being yourself is the first step to finding your purpose
Fact.
But what if finding your purpose is your purpose?
I'll leave you with that.
This is my life.
Complaining would be ungrateful of me; it's a good one really.
I can walk and run and play basketball and see my friends where we laugh endlessly.
Oh and Saturday morning cartoons.
I have problems, enormous world ending problems
But it's all relative.
Some think I'm strange, I prefer quirky.
I wonder how life would be if I'd chose the 'normal' option
Most likely, frightfully boring
Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 7:36 PM UTC
Oh Marathi-Sindhi beauty,
I did not know that you'd intrude,
Deep in my heart & mind.
Your looks are elfin gorgeous,
I am downright stumped,
Of your positive attitude I'm a fan.
Your daily schedule is admirable,
Not many youngsters are organized,
And the majority roam aimlessly.
I so admire that you teach kids,
I see responsibility in your eyes,
Not many care for their families.
How you manage tuning the strings,
Happy & content you are always,
You smile how so ever be the things.
From you the world will learn,
Jealous from the respect you earn,
To be like you they will yearn.
So yes, the respect grows deep,
Down at the bottom of my heart,
As water to roots it will seep.
Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 5:32 AM UTC
a harp has been strummed
a banjo picked
a heart has been numbed
a ****** flicked
a page has been thumbed
a sharp ice pick
a mouth has been gummed
a desiduous tick
a cigarette has been bummed
a virginal stick
a town has been slummed
a slippery ****
a ***** has been ******
a little *****
a lonely man jumped
a fall and a click
a crowd has been pumped
a comedy shtick
a mind has been stumped
a clever trick
Oct 5, 2011
Oct 5, 2011 at 2:50 PM UTC
her faced oozed frangelico;
a sweet reminder that she was top shelf.
you striped her skirt to the floor,
eyeing her chastity belt made of condoms.
unbeknownst to her father, you stole the key.
his shotgun alarmed you but not enough to stop.
the laws about minors stumped you but not enough to stop.
unlocking my belt, she prays.
on her knees.
mouth open.
she carefully places the cross that looms over her bed in the bin.
marriage can wait, this can't.
you realize in the morning God wasn't with you.
but the hole in your ****** was.
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 4:51 PM UTC
Sitting beside her
Watching her slowly break to pieces
The only thing keeping her together
Were her thin calloused arms
Clasped tightly around her heaving chest
I couldn't bear it anymore
I love you...
I blurted out hastily
Before the significance of what I said could settle in
But I couldn't take them back
The words now stood between us
Floating in the silence of my confession
Her eyes widened and bloodshot
Arms wrapped tightly around herself
Hair left in a messy half tied bun
She sat just an arms distance away
And all I could was see beauty
In those runny kajal lined eyes
Coloured a warm shade of brown
I love you I specified once more
Her stumped silence more annoying now
But better, much better
Than one filled with her tears
I've loved everything about you I explain
More for my own sake than hers
For my mind could barely process such a confession
I love the way you dance to the corniest of songs
When you think no one can see you
I love how you spend an hour just figuring out makeup
Only to walk out with just lip balm gracing your face
I love how you try to dress ****
But would rather get married in a pair of boxers
I love how you're a hard core geek
But still can't resist an episode of Greys Anatomy
I love the contradiction you are
As changeable as the winds
But always steadfast when I need you
I love that awkward smile
I love that messy bun
I love those over sized t-shirts
I love that sarcastic mouth
You are not as weak as you believe
Your scars are what I love most
And how you show them off with pride to the world
Your imperfections make you perfect
And your...
Before I finished this sudden display of verbosity
She kissed me
Wrapping herself around me completely
For our imperfections we loved
And no person would make us erase our proud battle scars of life.
Jul 22, 2015
Jul 22, 2015 at 1:36 PM UTC
With the tightfisted budget now handed down
There is a lot of ****** off people in our nation's towns
Mr Hockey has hit the taxpayers with a double decker bus
High and low income earners put well into a binding truss
Revolt in the Senate Chamber is showing on the cards
The government will be in receipt of a few shrapnel shards
Legislation won't get passed in a timely manner
There will be the flying of a double dissolution banner
Then the Abbott mob will be well and truly stumped
Voters are itching to have the extra tax imposts bumped
Canberra shall shortly be in for an enormous rattling
Heft taxing has the nation's populous struggling and battling
Had the GST been set at fourteen percent and on everything
Our tax burden to-day wouldn't be so troubling
Government must learn to live within its boundaries
As the tax paying public are sickening of all the levees
Tax policy is in need of urgent attention too right
For parliamentarians don't seem to see our plight
Mr Shorten has stated that his mob can fix our woes
But his side of politics has not the scent of a rose
We are stuck with a budget which has us ******* down
And it offers us nothing of the lights in mirthful town
The treasury calculator has a very mean spirited spike
Twill there ever be a tax regime which we'll all like
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
Upsized in elastic tugs
Boxing gloves trembling in sweat
A pace of haste, a stretch of jab
Ahead a mob, resign the job
The cheer as the pro smears
In tears I resume with fear
Body solid, the barefoot I bear
Hands bare all ignited gears
Endured as the rope snaps
My lioness is lost in the ring
Fire roars, an angered uproar
Unable to face the opponent
A body shot, a tummy stomp
Mouth guard stumped,beg to stop
Cheers rant upfront,the pain pause
Three minutes cease, an earring drop
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 9:45 AM UTC
Darling Dragon Blue,
Your life is a circus
full of ambiguities leaving you stumped,
unable to discern good from bad, truth from lies,
enemies from allies.
The Ring Master,
Master Illusionist,
Master Magician,
call him what you may,
he knows this,
he feeds off of this.
your misplaced trust
gives him power.
He targets you,
his spinning whip sings I love you,
Striking down hard on your soul,
drawing blood from your heart,
Painting hate in your eyes.
He announces you as his greatest possession,
his greatest achievement,
the love of his life.
But now the show’s over.
he looms over you
using his two faced mask to scare you back in your place
feeding off your insecurities and self doubt,
he grows stronger.
“Dance my boy Dance!” he cackles
‘STRIKE’
“Sing my boy sing!”
‘CRACK!’
he lines his whip with false love
to numb your pain.
But only for a little bit.
Only for a few seconds.
Long enough for you to believe it doesn’t hurt.
Long enough for you to forget his dagger words.
A damaged young dragon,
you burn your sorrow into the glass
when you whisper I love you to the mirror.
“I love you” it reads back.
and you feel so empty.
You realize you’re tired of performing on strings.
you yearn to dance freely, to soar high into the unforgiving sky
you want to burn this place to the ground screaming
“I loved you!” Roaring your mighty roar releasing your fright,
Spreading your mighty wings created for magnificent flight,
your bound legs unable to carry you,
you fall to the ground.
cold, helpless, the flame within you
threatening to die out.
The ring master finds you.
a confused frightened smile creeps onto his face
“I love you” he sneers
as he kicks you back into your cage
wondering why, oh why you tried to escape.
again with false love,
he manipulates you, a creature
endowed with so many beautiful talents and gifts,
not realizing he conditions his “ I love you’s” with pain, anger, and hate.
and you a mighty dragon only wish to control your own fate.
And so Enough.
you roar.
Enough.
The fire inside you erupts into a great blue star
transforming the carbon in your ribs into your
diamond heart,
melting your golden bones allowing you to change form.
For Darling Dragon Blue,
It is HE. that should fear you.
Darling Dragon Blue.
I LOVE YOU.
Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 5:54 PM UTC
It's like my body's going supernova.
Every abstract nano millimeter of my being is imploding on itself and exploding into this humid atmosphere - I become slivers of glass on an insignificant Saturday.
My eyes are shattered like marbles -
My fingers scattered like wine glass stems -
I am a shifting, silver star gone supernova -
In the midst of constellations spelling out your name -
There is a vacuum inside me -
My flesh collapses in on itself like aluminum -
I am incandescent like a lightbulb.
There is a bomb inside me -
And the timers gone off -
I spread like a grenade -
Every part of me becomes part of something else.
I am growing from a wasteland -
And dying from the waste -
This encompassing medicine grows within me out of barren soil.
I am a fire -
Golden plasma coins -
This poisonous currency -
I will pay for it all, for it all.
This fire burns branches -
Becomes ashes -
I inhale this dead earth and my lungs are joyous at this fire you've built me from cardboard boxes.
I love you so deeply - I am being broken and repaired all at once.
I feel so full of something I cannot fully understand - I have exploded.
There will never be enough of your lips
Your smiles
Your eyes
Your voice
Your words
Your skin
Your face
Your fingers
Your chest
Your stomach
Your shoulders
Your legs
Your feet
Your kissing
Your voice . . .
If I were walking through an airport toward you, I would not be walking for long.
How many ways can I express my love for you?
You are sunset on my loneliness -
The medicine for my insomnia -
The balm for my aching heart -
And yet my heart has never ached more.
I cannot put my love for you into words - I am without words.
God has finally stumped me -
"Make her fall in love" he said -
"And watch her try to write that".
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 6:45 AM UTC
Veins, veins,
length and breadth,
intertwined
beats to freedom
or desolation;
a terminus
lost on a circular.
An ebbing destination,
unchartered targets,
Follow the signs.
We are a one way street,
follow the signs
on software maps.
Stumped
by sequential lights
and us, caught
in a dragnet
within steely fish,
gasping for air,
choking on smoke,
bilious coughs,
hacking sputum,
gobbing phlegm globs
in interval gaps
within gridlocks;
nose to **** to
nose to ****
The rage, the stares
the shouts, the finger,
the Grrr’s, the Rrrr’s,
the honks, the blares,
the bumper to bumper
expletive shares.
The rolling down,
the alighting,
the threats,
the fighting.
The falling down,
the separation,
reseating,
the rolling,
the thunder,
the trudge,
the stops, the starts.
Follow the signs,
follow the signs.
Robotic conveyors
for humans,
mechanical
fossil fueled
chariots,
grumbling, grunting,
wheee-ing and
screeching,
and screaming
and spewing
and chuffing
and guffing
black plumes,
air tarred,
veins, veins
clogged and bogged,
viscous, molasses,
liquid black blob.
Road fogged,
numbers logged.
Veins, veins,
follow the signs,
slow crawl.
Veins, veins,
follow the signs,
follow the signs,
sprawl.
Copyright Marc Hawkins 2017
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 6:20 AM UTC
What are we, really?
For as long as we have been able,
Humans have looked skyward and wondered.
Wondered about the timbre of our voices
About the pastel shades of our skin.
When we are cut, why do we all bleed the same red?
About our origin.
About our purpose.
About our murky past and our luminous future.
What are we, really?
As a species we are collectively stumped.
We have journeyed far.
From trepanning the ill, ventilating their skulls to drive out malevolent spirits,
To carefully calculating the oscillations of distant stars.
And yet,
Despite our ingenuity, despite our ambition, despite our progress,
The truth still escapes our inquisitive grasp.
What are we, really?
Are we god's chosen flock?
Are we simply another infinitely random arrangement of carbon atoms? Flesh and gristle and calcium deposits?
Are we overgrown simians with overgrown egos and obnoxious sense of importance?
Or are we a simulation? Ones and zeroes on the motherboard of the cosmos?
What are we,
Really?
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
The six month mark
For that one time in the dark
Safe from December breeze
You laid on top of me
And left my hair a messy mop
Then you flew to the bus stop
Leaving me very confused
And I'll admit, a little amused
Is four days near
(Should we celebrate and cheer?)
I wonder what we'll do next
For a secret fling, you're the best
Yet I've come to love you with my whole heart
And hope this never tears us apart.
When I think about our future, I'm pumped
Although, our relationship leaves me stumped.
May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 4:01 AM UTC
I am a poet. From me, you will get only the best
It’s called persistent, not defeat
a roller of criticism moves me,
However, to watch my surfer friend Andy out on the wave
driven with the wind, those moments of the great madness
makes wonderful poetic lines, I sense the rush, his madness,
and his sense of honor.
I shall therefore joyfully boast in my sufferings my friends
However, when you disrespect the poet, you disrespect the art.
you cut your roots at the source, and your thoughts will grow silent,
I am so blessed with the spirit; I am never stumped by fears
Yet, if you hold my poems against the mirror
the mirror would never read the contents backwards,
My messages to the world have no secret.
I am your poet, not your puppet on a string
My words are louder than clappers,
Like a heavily smoke-filled room,
My words might gag you,
because my words speak wisdom
This poet is not ashamed to write from her heart
My poems is like most nightmare transcending
our fears for the best.
I am breathing, I am writing.
this is the new age of poetry
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 9:55 AM UTC
If a pirate has a peg for a leg
And a stool has a leg for a peg
Now... would they be brothers
From different mothers
Riddle me this ... I do beg.
Sep 19, 2017
Sep 19, 2017 at 12:06 PM UTC