.

(Sippy cups are for toddlers, designed to let them sip but a little sip at a time, and when it falls, the disaster is lessened.)

totally by accident is this dedicated to TL Sipple, whose introspection offers comfort to more than many.

~~~~~~~~~
who among us has not begun the
journey's poetic, by first examining the
mirror that reflects organs internal,
flipping the reversible glass over,
for all you exposed,
it's the curse, the birthing natural,
of the first poem

all your life, streams bustling, streams drying, drought dying,
leaves windy flying up, but final poisoned by gravity,
come to rest and crunched under your footfalls,
but of this did you write, scrivened or scribed?
no

our first child is of our *****, where real borning does occur.

the rest too, but now, and soon thereafter,
put aside the me, and write of he and she,
the first love, always the second child,
for this the nature of the soul and ermine robe,
you elected, when you first self-selected
I am a poet, therefore I hit send,

and the diecast, is the first of many hot rods
piercing, invading, calling out to you,
poet,
"set me free, set me free"

then when walking in September,
the leaves un-glistening, cracking and *****
like an old person who cannot care for them self

then you lift your pen, point to the sky or to the earth,
no matter which, for both are loco parents in loco,
and the truest hardest journey begins,
looking outside in, with eyes colored by
global truths

then and only then the real journey begins,
a differing agony to be learned,
to see as others see,
to write as others have before you and me,
and in doing so, this testing travail,
will earn you, could earn you, a time grade of
pass/fail

you are the only judge in this show,
the only contestant,
what grade will you assign yourself,
what standards will you set,
until you ask,
who are the poets time idolizes?

american idol, throw away your sippy cup, and drink from the river, from the sea, drink deep, until sated,
then begin your foolishness
readied, all over again
poet to please invisible gods,
that *all can see

when Noah told god,
He, was gonna save the world,
from his **** flood
(the sorry storybook, in fact, got it wrong),
god mystified, Noah well versified
how he was agonna do it,
the man with the plan
how to salve the world


two by two,
Noah replied, and that's not lied,
see below, see below,
two poems,
sorta side by side,
but not

                        

read down, across, whichever

One                 Two
           starts two,                   is multiplication,
one X two                    equals two
one boy                     one girl,
or girl                       whatever,
needs you,                       one boy
get a room,                     in an arc.
everybody just get a room
            no god,                           universal remote
one tongue,                    inside you,
misinformation,              miscue negation,
miscommunication,       no care about divides,  
                         miscegenation,                           the house rules,                    
black asian even,           white, red and blue.
got wolves,                     deer, making hay
got The Eagles,              with The Beatles
sleeping with the,          gone feral, loving
zebras,                           the lambs,
bunk mates,                  making the cutest babies.
everybody's singing,    we can work it out  
even the cats,               the dogs,
lovers of the K-nine,     loving them feline sea lions,
and now everybody loves the snakes for their
long tongues, physical abilities and the resulting
****** prowess.


enough of this two by two ****, were a bad divinity idea
to begin with.  Everybody get a room, learn to fit,
whatever parts you got, just stick 'em in.

The Hunans I had to segregate, cause they be another type.

but whoopee if the white boys can't get enough black love,
the asians explaining the karma sutra and the Eskimos are curling their toes,
yada yada how come when it comes to ***, everbody loves the other side.
When all were aboard, Noah got a beer, and said I sure hope there is some football on tv, cause everybody loves football.
If anybody sees a zebra striped pigeon, give me a holla!

What the fk is wrong with this site?
you writings,
extraordinary!

hint:
Write of moon and June and broken hearts, cutting, scars, cloying clouds, moons and suns, momma's and poppas,  throw in a couple of I love youse,
and I assure you fame will be 10000 reads long and weak,
but don't ever look in the mirror,
you might not like the ***** you see,
and that will be the end of our curiously lovely new
"Relationship"

for you I will stick around here.

Three time this year,
tragedy my addiction,
will meet up with proffered poor Lear
and his fate, product of vile offspring,
for when he speaks to me,
he be the reminder, of the pain
tenderly tendered by one's own children

“And worse I may be yet: the worst is not
So long as we can say 'This is the worst.”

But where is my truest
brother king,
Henry V, the five,
his eloquence of brotherhood I hear once a day

"From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be rememberèd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile
This day shall gentle his condition"

Let me die this way,
companioned and brother championed,
let me not go down into my grave,
grey haired and betrayed by my own *****

audience of one


alone on a deserted isle
rhymes written,
sonnets sung,
arias performed,
the theater, the opera madhouse full,
readers to followers to auto-push button heart adoration magi,
darling of the critics,
"His voice unique in our times"

he  disdainfully,
look upon me, them,
do they not know:

*vanity, all is vanity