"wittering" poems
I wish I could use words the way a woman can
Not struggling to let go of each one
But pouring them out like water
A smooth steady stream to comfort others or herself
A raging torrent to wear away the most recalcitrant earthen lump
A sudden drenching that dumbfounds the dignity of the pompous
A steady drip that will break the coldness of self serving reason
The pretty, witty music that entices one to dance
The shrewish cackling mockery that makes you feel you’ve got no chance
The calm murmur that can reach the loneliest, most troubled soul
The endless seeming wittering that will always have its goal
Or perhaps her words don’t mean anything at all
They just break the surface of previously parched land
Making little bubbles that pop before they’re seen
With a puff of freshly made air
The tiny gasp with which life can begin
And even when she’s silent and alone
The words will not stop
Going round and round her head until someone can be told
Pressing to express her joy and stress
The wild life she struggles to control
The dear words she wants to give with love
Which may escape to wreak revenge or savage the innocent
Which may be used against her by ruthless charmers
With echoes of what she wants to hear or damaging quotes
Of things she said but no longer feels or means
So sometimes even the best of women may feel defeat
Beaten by words she said that have been ignored
Or twisted till the love has been choked out of them
And they come back to haunt her, weary little beasts
That she must contain all over again, even though she knows
That soon they and the thoughts they hold will return to demanding life
And she that was once their mistress will become their slave
And that is why though talking with women has been one of the great joys of my life
Though I love the verbal jousting and respect a sound tongue lashing
I still hope and dream of the time when the woman I love and I
May be together in wordless peace
Comfortable enough with each other not to speak
Knowing that the immensity of silence
Is easily filled by our mutual love.
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 9:17 AM UTC
I. nope.
II.
long-windedness verbosity
diffuseness prolixity
wordiness rambling
circuity discursiveness
redundancy tautology
tediousness verbiage
verboseness length
longevity permanence
garrulity windiness
volubility circumlocution
expansiveness babbling
periphrasis gushing
blathering protractedness
waffling lengthiness
iteration repetition
prating prattling
jabbering digressiveness
dreariness tedium
deadliness wandering
repetitiousness repetitiveness
pleonasm convolution
logorrhoea boringness
maundering superfluity
duplication tiresomeness
monotony reiteration
gabbiness informality
mouthiness diffusion
logorrhea wordage
blah-blah dryness
dullness boredom
sameness loquaciousness
talkativeness loquacity
freeness orotundity
roundaboutness breadth
gobbledegook gassiness
wittering multiloquence
perissology big mouth
gift of the gab garrulousness
staleness tallness
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 9:38 AM UTC
The odd word sometimes slips out
I mean nothing by it
It's just human instinct
I say what I mean in the passions of such clout
Offended?
Then sorry
Or am I?
Get a grip woman,
It's just a word that instinctively rolled from my mouth
Well if you don't like this then see me when drunk
I'll tear you to pieces
I'll shatter your dreams
And leave this room dirtier than that of a skunk
Spraying the kerbside with thoughts of a madman
Speaking such truths
Littering the graves of such inbuilt angst
Whilst wittering away and dancing the can-can
Dont try and stop me as this is my food
Living on this tribal urge
The surrounding men have given up their surge
So sorry for being so rude.
May 2, 2019
May 2, 2019 at 4:52 AM UTC
Cruel are the Ayats
that show us the way to be
And still take my love away from me
Hypocrites are the maulvis who think they know what God wants or who He is
Cruel are the gospels that claim to set
All of us free
If we only follow their version of religion
Hypocrites are the white-robed priests
With dark stained hearts
Pardon my boldness
I'm just curious
And have always been
My moral compass stands intact
Better than most preachers
I have met
Now, Religion has always been
a shaky ground for me
With their ever present contradictions
And the fight over superiority
Are you the only one who has a copyright over Him?
I have found
And I have realised
Religion is a wittering fool's
Favorite jewel
You can fight over whose path
is more right
But still there are people
Who cry themselves to sleep
Children who have got nothing
To eat
You go on,
It is time to preach
But how can you claim
To love God
When you have never fed
A starving child
When never has someone's tears
Made you burn
So you can go, Tell your God
How you loved him With all of you
I'll go tell mine:
Though my faith faltered
But I never stopped serving
His people
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 10:08 AM UTC
Beneath my grey boots the
reflection in the ripples
Conveyed a image of a familiar
Turmoil and saddening.
With the landscape implausible
And the fate unenviable
it beckoned with its wittering wail the
empty promise of a better life.
Dec 20, 2020
Dec 20, 2020 at 8:25 PM UTC
Do you ever think
that these wittering words of wisdom
spat out, sang out,
by poets lurking in shadows
will stay hidden among the cobwebs
of a like-spirited mind.
No great explorer
with triumphant cries
to carry these forgotten words
into the light
like a treasure long lost.
A diamond brightened
by the passing of time.
Shyness
You have my eyes.
Jun 15, 2020
Jun 15, 2020 at 8:45 AM UTC
Detritus of the drunken night
A cig burn in a cushion cover
A swollen face from your brother
I shouldn't have had that last pint
Your wittering is irritating
This hangover is dehydrating
Blurred thoughts of how we fought
You brought up some other girl
Indignation made my head whirl
T.V. blaring sports, you out of sorts
Outside for a cigarette
Both of us shouting, your eyes wet
The stumbling, bumbling long walk home
Sniping and bickering
Neon lights flickering
Now your face is set like stone
I've got to face your angry brother
And your unforgiving mother
Detritus of the drunken night
My stomach's churning
Your eyes are burning
Like red hot coals, they sting on sight
I'll apologize for what drink's done
Then go down the pub for another one
Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 2:45 PM UTC
Three years, this very day
Since the parting of our ways.
I've done what I can do
to cherish the memory of You.
Read a prayer beside your tree.
Placed flowers at your grave
A candle in window lit.
A toast with wine is made.
And yet it's not enough.
I miss the comfort of your company.
Of hugs and kisses too.
I miss your presence in all I do.
I miss the arguments,
You always won,
and the making up again
It made life more fun.
To end each day contented.
was our Golden Rule,
Without you here, who is there,
to temper my mood?
There’s so much more I miss,
I could go on,
But I’ll leave it here.
My wittering done.
So, with memories held dear.
As each year wears on,
In my mind you will remain
Forever Young.
Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 5:38 AM UTC
highest rate of illiteracy
highest rate of divorces
highest rate of ***** mothers
highest rate of One parents family
7.3 million people (17% of the adult population)
on anti-depressants
mad dogs and yadda yadda go out in the mid-day sun
we understand your problems and know misery seeks company
we know it seeks to vent, to rage rile rant simmer and pour out bile
and we know all these ills are particularly prevalent in lower classes
so please know its not only you lot suffering they're seven millions plus
its not something in the water or in fish and chips its all in your heads
and projecting your pains and insecurities to others isn't going to cure you
it will just occupy your weak beings and make you even more crazy
and wittering professional and obsessive dumb dumb woe-mongers
you won't get to be rich cool smart sharp and drive a Merc that way...
Jul 17, 2021
Jul 17, 2021 at 9:53 PM UTC