Dibbly the Dabbler
A Poem About A Waffling Waggler
Dibbly was a dilettantish dabbler
of sleepy form and dreamlike stature.
The flighty wabbler waffled and flabbered
whenever his capricious nature was captured.
He’d commit to every trend and schtick,
then wander off and leave.
That was simply how Dibbly ticked,
each promise just a dry heave.
Tennis lessons?
He’d last one week.
Garage band sessions?
He’d wait until they fell asleep.
Dibbly never stopped listing all his hobbies and skills,
an endless list of unfinished crafts.
The dabbling babbler, full of frills,
but lacking the will for the graft.
Always the new kid in class,
Dibbly would brag about his passions.
By Tuesday he’d forgotten them,
replaced with newer fashions.
A painter.
A salesman.
A saxophone player.
A mailman.
A waiter.
A sports fan.
A birthday entertainer.
A greenhorn handyman.
A small-town mayor.
A window shopper.
A next first date.
A hobby hopper.
A salty sea captain's first mate.
A tall-tale topper.
His habits would come and go,
the dabbler’s interests fleeing
like melting snow.
His interests drifted downstream
before they'd learned to row.
So when you ask Dibbly the Dabbler,
“What do all these passions show?”
He’ll scratch his head,
shrug his shoulders
and slowly answer,
“I don’t know.”
That’s just who the dabbler is.
In Dibbly’s world,
that’s just how it goes.
Every one of us has a little Dibbly somewhere inside. Which forgotten hobby or abandoned dream came to mind while reading?
Why subscribe?
The world is getting stranger and it helps to have a place to make sense of it.
Here you’ll find absurdity, satire, dystopian reflections, and whatever thoughts manage their way into my brain and want to get out.
Some of it will make you laugh.
Some of it might make you think twice.
All of it is part of the same thing really.
Trying to understand the world by stepping just outside of it and more inside of my head.
Come muse with me.






I haven't ran into a post like this yet. I enjoyed it. 🙂