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Petersen House, Washington, D.C.

I admit to own a passion
for the Civil War in general,
and the life and death of
the sixteenth president in particular
between a hard spot of whiskey
and draughts of arrack;
nonetheless (without doubt), this Yankee
would be fain to travel back
to Antebellum America
amidst the urban din and clack

where smelting earsplitting,
choking industrialization
a deaf fin hit drawback,
and where dark shadows cast an eternal
edge of night twilight zone pallor
tubby somewhat exact
from mighty robber barons,
who tolerated no flack
(nope not even Roberta)
despite the bleeding nose against grindstone
inhumanity bearing down hard
with very little giveback
viz zit head as greenback

yes...no matter the noxious
crash course urbanization
(and attendant ghettoization)
breeding a lung wrenching tuberculosis hack,
this twenty first century middle aged
married man (an average Monterey Jack
***), whose sought after
claim to fame penchant
modestly admits to **** knack

crafting literary concoctions with no lack
of ideas, where one arose
strong as an oncoming mack
truck (this vibrant fascination
with the American Civil War
(even before Ken Burns popularized
calamitous event) in non black
and white (digitally remastered technicolor)
exemplified, enumerated, and emphasized
how a minor dispute got way off,track
whereat stately commander in chief did pack
a punch analogous sans, barreling forth
like unstoppable quarterback
despite his six foot four inch
gangly physique cull rack
tried his darnedest,
(or substitute unprintable epithet)
yet a coterie of anti war subjects
figuratively and literally up in arms

wanted nothing less to sack
the sixteenth president,
whose aged fifty seven year old countenance
one month after
Ides of March death didst dance
during the low key celebration sans,
internecine bloodbath Grants'
and Lees' armistice
one hundred and fifty seven years ago;

the peace treaty signed
(April 9th, 1865) at Appomattox,
an irrevocable agony did blow
when that fateful, mournful,
somber night at Ford's Theater
the grim reaper didst appear
(like Jim) crow king
ably linkedin with Reconstruction
after one shot rang out blasting,
where crimson tide didst flow
drowning American history
at that juncture grow

wing no less painless today, which hoo
veer ring agony didst smite
incomprehensible cleft mow
wing down unfinished ambition, which no
one other than Abraham Lincoln could sow
the racial rift, that slavery trucked in tow
generations shackled with compounded woe

that fateful April 15, 1865
at approximately 10:20 p.m
one hundred plus fifty seven years; it's been
long since deceased taking deadly
gunshot punctuated deadly din,
whence fifteen plus decades passed sans
conspirator tried to get even
at Ford’s theater – forever
eviscerating thin lipped grin
of the sixteenth president - still
his unrealized promising dreams with in

Reconstruction paradigm presses
historians to speculate what kin
ship his unrealized post-bellum blueprint
while he sat in his booth,
attended a performance of the comedy
Our American Cousin that night
when a bullet entered below
the president's left ear,
bored diagonally through his brain
and stopped behind his right …

wrought him slumped over,
now tis 7 score + 17 years witnessed
assassination of Abraham Lincoln
team of rivals mastermind, re: the
American Civil War wreck con struck shin
yet…his positive affects find him
honored with outsize depictions and a con tin
hue wing legacy sustained, whereby
hearts and minds he posthumously did win.

Said enigmatic man shrouded and idolized
with beatific, democratic essence
fantastic, honorific, pacific aura, dogma,
and persona with meager off fence
to generations of United States citizens –
enthralled ladies and gents
whose reverberations and ramifications

of humane karma lives on – hence
begotten progeny enjoying freedoms
perchance ensconced with rapt innocence
or those inured with sensibility and sense
can bequeath pride without prejudice
whether living in splendour or in tents
toward Illinois railroad log splitter,
whose humble roots forged steely covenants.
If you ever espy a latitudinally
and longitudinally challenged
older yet shopping savvy woman,
(wedded to yours truly
for almost twenty six years),
who stands approximately
four feet and ten inches
a strong hunch that gal
stacks up as mine missus,
she dons costumed headwear
to avoid station identification,

whenever she steps out
into the public limelight
anywhere outside these four walls
of our one bedroom apartment
here within bucolic Schwenksville,
the town that town forgot,
and the decades could not improve,
where all the women good looking,
the men strong, and the children
wise to the ways of technology.

When this logophile
quite a few pounds lighter
ever since I first became acquainted
with unnamed aforementioned woman,
she adopted predilection to don apparel
allowing, enabling, and providing
modus operandi to present herself incognito.

Ofttimes said spouse of mine
upon returning from
grocery shopping spree
(ever price conscious of various
and sundry commestibles -
with a knick knack paddy whack
give this doggone husband
a plant based NON GMO bone),
she can rattle off the prices
of targeted items on her mental rolodex
how much food cost at:
ALDI, GIANT, LIDL, WEGMANS...

While scurrying to and fro
hither and yon,
a stranger might unexpectedly
pay a compliment to iterated getup,
which bobbin noggin makes her
easy to identify, when yours truly
tags along, (but despite
being considerably taller
by almost twelve inches),
these spindleshanks of one
sentient, ship shaped,
shanghaied, salubrious,

slithering, snakish, stuttering,
sluggish, smashface scarred,
sober, solitary, sangfroid
skidamarink singing, Shamokin
speaking scrivener, scuzzy,
spunky, starved, submissively
suicidal, sunburned, senseless
salaried shuffling senescent
snoutish soundcloud shutterflying
snapchatting schnorrer
find impossible mission
to keep pace with the wife.
His buzzfeeding spirit jump started
and kindled eternally his uplifting karma,
thus I present genuine psalm
remembrance of things past hallelujah!

Lemme automatically shift figurative gears
and apprise thee dear reader,
when a series of irreversible unfortunate events
accelerated our dependence on Karen Winkle
(another resident here at Highland Manor),
who drove yours truly and the missus
on various and sundry errands
(circa ~ early 2020 BC - before coronavirus)
and in fact lent us keys to her car.

Higher power our prayer
for vehicle unwittingly addressed
courtesy deliverance kindred lady luck,
we (the missus and me) blessed,
whereby each our collective
expanded ***** nearly burst forth

(think analogous stuffed
to hilt treasure chest)
managing without access
transporting ourselves
to and fro, hither and yon
at the merciful kindness
afforded us by above named gal
to lack automobile we did detest
metaphorically a deterrent
on par with climbing Mount Everest.

Wheel of fortune finds and concedes
good n plenty humor to cultivate
yours truly fielding mixed metaphor barley
without any sense and sensibility freight
not, neither pride nor prejudice to illustrate
merely lame jesting nsync with late
catcher in the wry methodology to obfuscate
dear reader, how ye will rate
poetic endeavor that doth undulate
without meaningful rhyme or reason.

Good instant karma iz reason
carefree mood I do avail
at expense of anonymous readers who bewail
lack of any cogent tangent scrunching brow
at each general detail

regarding my general disposition
ordinarily electric kool aid test without fail
permeates thru skin, sinew, muscle and bone
today unusually hearty and hale
lemme cut to the chase,
and explain why I feel spry

as vaguely iterated above,
our worse fate than being in jail
or being stranded at sea minus a lugsail
if surmised we acquired a vehicle
(2009 Hyundai Sonata - gold color)
ye figuratively hit nail

on head, thus ameliorating transportation woe,
which plight did prevail
(as iterated above)
since latter days of January 2020
finding the missus to rant and rail
constantly bemoaning accursed unfair travail.

Bless gratitude of Boyce Brandon Harris
mine then nonagenarian papa
at that time experienced declining health
and since passed away
seventeen plus months ago;
he formerly lived at Normandy Farms,
upscale retirement community
within Blue Bell, Pennsylvania.

After his driving days came to screeching halt,
though beset with setbacks
the endeavor to relinquish keys
(regarding aforementioned automobile)
into the hands of yours truly
courtesy coronavirus beast
presented quite thee challenge.

Initially karma dad owned
necessitated getting towed to garage
named G & S Tire & Auto
1798 Dekalb Pike, Blue Bell, PA 19422
father heavily praised above,
the mechanics (purportedly
both brothers - ordinary mothered Joes)
patiently bided their time
awaited insurance information
plus registration -
legal needed documentation
end result found endeavor
pulled off without a hitch.
An excerpt taken from a lengthy tome,
written courtesy a favorite poet of mine.

Paraskevidekatriaphobia  struck within a blink,
I swear yours truly never took a drink,
nevertheless he witnessed
and falsely accused of being a rat fink,
when everything but the kitchen sink
instantaneously disappeared in a wink.

A quick moving flava flav lava flow
quickly rapped (like a snoop doggy dog tune),
swept, and twittered predominantly
(this only the beginning phase
of Armageddon clobbering debacle),
where nature nymphs, sprites, trolls, et cetera)
decked out with tartan kilted
Scottish residents comprising
the moral majority population
within bucolic community of Harrisburg,
(yes the same place name and Das Capital
of Pennsylvania) before swallowing
(as an itty bitty, teensy weensy
hors d oeuvre), a healthy
barley noticed portion of planet Earth.

Faster than a speeding bullet
lubricated with greased lightning,
and one rather extremely uncommon phenomena,
the devastating, instantaneous,
and outrageous volcanic activity,
(that forged the Allegheny Mountains)
unexpectedly goose-stepped,
doggedly catapulted back to life
after a bajillion years of dormancy
entombing, hotly freezing (in perpetuity),

and guaranteeing, limning, and ossifying
unchanging lifelong livingsocial abode
of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum
at that juncture (of happy and healthy)
within the space time continuum
4 after Midnight, (when Christine
came down with severe bout of misery
qua writer's block), and sponsored
by Plexus, nexus Lexus Wilkie Buick,
who guaranteed their

handsomely crafted automobiles
(specially designed with an app
to weather fierce blistering,
pelting thermal withering geologic events,
sans natural catastrophes)
included extra durable crushed bougainvillea
(allegedly beefed chromosomes)
deftly effected fortified (gluten free)
genetically housed immensely
jimmied, kindled, lionized magnetized numbskulls.

The volcanic magma seemed to possess
an uncanny intelligent, eerie ability
to discriminate among bias,
die hard extremist stances, liberal take
on hot button controversial issues,
political ultra factions, hence the eye catching,
shining, yet confusing moniker
"Smart Ash" soon codified, fructified, indemnified
with the reputable, musical, and inestimable
qua personae non gratae prodigy Sam Ash".

Actually, there did seem to appear
some natural likeness in violent temperament,
resonant penchant, and nascent lambent
Jill Saint John habiliment
between former magmatic material,
and protean Primate prehensile prattling Simian,
who (as a sidereal stellar story teller)
happens to be yours truly.

Anyway, due to strict
parochial Lutheran hackneyed dogma,
no iota of boasting, flattering, nattering chattering
allowed from this anonymous,
hip po' eponymous, harmonious, industrious,
innocuous, judicious, loquacious, marvelous,
querulous Norwegian bachelor farmer.

Ponder with scrunched furrowed brow
in a serious effort to expound at large
this incredulous nebulous,
shape shifting (than compound
an understandably mixed up notion),
thus now tis a noteworthy opportunity
to point out divulging the name of this scribe
would immediately necessitate notification
of Non-Coms, who would forcibly usher
this lapsed long haired pencil neck geek.

This action (not newsworthy in the least),
would thus mocks nix notorious nauseating, nasty,
never-ending nonsensical noodling.

How sad, hence tis not wise tune hip
virtual thorn in the dark side.

Rather best bet would be to buffer end
this figurative bud dee **** encased
within corpus callosum.

Though identity guard disallows revealing namesake
of this nincompoop, the most information
told about this little known author
can be reduced to one word.

That abridged version would deprive
any subsequent reader a brave attempt
to interpret convoluted spaghetti writing.

Despite ambition to bob and weave continuously
(creating a conglomeration of ever increasing
virtual loose threads),
one final capstone concept begs to be conveyed.

Thine ziggurat severely atilt rivaled
(sorry tubby cheesy),
but the Leaning Tower of Pisa!

Asinine argot acquired bilious berserk baggage,
which stakes no claim nsync with
longevity, magnanimity, notoriety, et cetera.

A series of unfortunate literary,
lickity-split liberty unintentionally
left a prose ache wake.

An honest to dogness attempt bedeviled crux
displaying evident fiasco.

Slinky circumstances, sans synonymity,
synergistically, and synchronicity
yielded a feeble effort at fame.

Birth thing a complex mental edifice
begot aborted aspiration foray zing
grateful, mindful, and respectful characterization.
Pursuit for elusive prey
teases yours truly
into treacherous catacombs
dangerous mentally
challenging pitfalls,

sets small hairs of back
on camp creeks edge
of night, where dark shadows
evoke outer limits
of twilight zone

prompting me constantly questioning
purposefulness, qua hair raising pursuit
embarking these modern roman times
all for naught,
nonetheless I chide self

failing to heed
emotional, mental, psychological...fallout
in sum re: springing Jack in the box reflex
to sally forth and earn kudos,
asper potential Prince Valiant.

Thus situated with blank computer screen
capacious external Lenovo for myopia
(and incessant squiggly floaters to boat),
this literary glutton for punishment
feverishly fixates to plumb depths

measuring morin 10,000
leagues under the see
ming lee impossible mission
to ensnare nearly extinct
fluttering, lyfting, shutterflying...

smarts to outwit unsuspecting
beak henning quest
tendering, tasting uber victory
quivering crossbow
targeting yawping

zoological discovery - channeling
primed with taut fletched arrow
on high alert for stool pigeon
cautiously optimistic kickstarting
another futile attempt dagnabbit
experiencing prestige,

oh...and by the way...,
no animal harmed
regarding made for video poem
gamely capturing quarry scotched,
nor gruesome scene

synonymous quasi abattoir
representative bird den sum
bloodless coup deeming
endeavor par excellence.

Fingers madly scramble
to poach skittering idea
fry day most ideal
omelette ya know,
aye feel yolked to defeatism,

one after another faux
promising brainstorm egging
quickly flitting inaccessible
potential flash in frying pan
just as fast dashing

into bajillion pieces
shell shocked scrivener
scribbling lame as duck
goose laying golden egg...
dropping immediately out of sight,

maybe best resigning forlorn
inchoate never albumen,
albeit quite linguistic stretch for
(all be human success story)
prospects beyond reach

ova this wretch
New York Times
bestseller author jinxed
forever dooming yours truly
grinding poverty my ill fate.
He/him (ratty, scrawny,
and tetchy ugly villain)  
scurried into dark recesses of hermitage
averse to cavort, frolic, inure himself
into the duplicitous schemes
capitalized, glorified, popularized

courtesy vanity of **** sapiens
lest imp of the pervert
already sacrificed as renegade
hashtagged heretic condemned
without merciful intervention
after being duped into capture
subsequently broadcast viz TikTok,
when turncoat quasi nincompoop

kook Harmet Harms
kickstarted, *******, and blurted
out hideaway of sought after perpetrator
to burn (no small potatoes) at stake,
but fortunately falsely accused
unbound against immolation
and reprieve jumpstarted, issued, and hissed
eleventh hour granted clemency

commuted death penalty
criminal sentenced solitary isolation
rat infested dungeon
housing convicted prisoner
ultimate crime and punishment
(decreed as non establishmentarian)
doled out after protracted proceedings
courtesy amazing graceful puffed dragon
unwittingly delivered merciful respite.

After being shackled hand and foot
then dragged into vermin infested cell
cowled ascetic (an exceptional escape artist)
busied himself disentangling restraints
and suppressed giddiness
when successfully free.

Off behind fake facade
walled in imponderable bedrock
dark passageways tunneled off
into unsuspecting chamber of secrets,
whereby amateur (he) brewed
exotic gaseous/ liquified potions
tumbled, gurgled, bubbled...
lethal skull and crossbones
labeled mixtures especially intriguing
adept alchemist expert
possessed sixth sense

intuitively discerning deadly
scorpion stinging poisons
abracadabra wizardry
magic spell cast
rendered, kindled, eased
tormentors severity relaxed
spellbound granted salvation.

Hence busily engrossed at makeshift laboratory,
our mutual (of Omaha) friend
did potchke with vials; every now and again
referencing ancient looking tome  
vaporous emissions served as smoke screen.

Hands of father time
painstakingly elapsed amidst
flickr ring torchlight
grotesquely accentuating
exaggerating ferociously
pantomiming silhouettes courtesy
hungry skittering varmints
hurriedly scurrying to and fro.

Artfully dodging explosive solutions
pretending shackles restrained prisoner
lobbed pseudo Molotov cocktails
kindly, loosely, and mutinously linkedin
liberal short (make believe) chain
leashed faux abysmal isolated confinement
former courtly poet,
who consumed prison fare
equalling bread and thin gruel
poetical, quizzical, and rational thinking
wrought eventual gladness!

Meanwhile elsewhere within
another complex edifice
Stormy (Daniels) reign
came and went
accompanying barren
cruel don, trumpeting
issuing expansion fiat
wielding, gesticulating, brandishing...
ironclad golf club spouting art of the deal,
whereby might versus right
simultaneously Putin on the ritz

song and dance routine
crooning Ivana mock up Earth,
especially figurative roasting statesman christened
Elijah Cummings, an American politician
and civil rights advocate who served
in United States House of Representatives
for Maryland's 7th congressional district
from 1996 until his death in 2019.

That oversized ego freezer
with pouffed hair,
who shall not be named
made abominable destiny manifest
regarding eminent domain
dominion, he forcibly
relocated natives to Cajun shelters
charging them admission fees
manumission granted serving
white supremacist conveniently optioning

kids as scapegoats
re: Deferred Action for
Childhood Arrivals (DACA)
labor away migrants
grunts passive pluperfect targets
no matter forbears indigenous
to America unfortunately

been man-date to bite bullet
within badlands of El Paso
meanwhile oblivious hermit aging
barnacle encrusted manacles
absorbing cumulative dampness
no longer granting resistance
to life nor limb
timely manumission lovely bones restored
swallowed potion frothing colorful brew
contrived exquisite firearms.

Ah redeemed character
(any resemblance between
initially mentioned unfortunate soul
and living persons purely coincidental)
mentioned at outset of poem
broached out Alcatraz replica
free and clear fresh air revived
fifty shades of gray

immediately sieged moment
weakly hollered carpe diem
elixir imbued immunity
against taken hostage at gunpoint
freedmen impressed into service
while waved magic wand
whereby enslaved women
retaliated hashtagged misogynistic
took appropriate revenge
as apprenticed warrioresses!
I (a youthful sexagenarian)
can no longer quip being
a country boy at heart,
but me as urban cowboy,
I declare would never
so fuhgeddaboudit dear reader
nothing 'cept bucolic existence
laboring organic garden
harvesting fruits and vegetables
by the bushel and quart
constitute an appropriate start.

Don't get me wrong;
Every cell comprising
body electric of mine,
would yearn to prolong
and relish those bygone salad days,
whereat (R)oute (D)elivery #2 Level Road
also known as "Glen Elm"
or hundred acre wood,
when Mister Leiper and family
originally owned vast estate
(turn of twentieth century)
once awash, flush, and plush
with webbed wide world

analogous to miniature Hindu Kush;
one of the great watersheds of Central Asia
forming part of vast Alpine zone
that stretches across Eurasia east to west;
and runs northeast to southwest;
and divides valley of the Amu Darya
(the ancient Oxus River)
to the north from
Indus River valley to the south.

Rather than complain about mein kampf
and hard times,
which ain't no Christmas Carol,
fraught with the battle of life
amidst great expectations,
yours truly much prefers
crafting poetic verses
precariously perched on edge of chair
clicking Macbook Pro keyboard;
Every now and again taking stretch
to access excellent outlook
from powerfully pointed bedroom window.

Thus yours truly doth
poetically lightly kvetch
or tease out commonplace natural phenomena
nevertheless unremarkable flora and fauna,
or maybe even a dog
and her/his owner playing fetch.

His immediate observation when peering out
rectangular pane (more long than wide) of glass
constitutes plethora of dandelions
populates the greensward;
said wildflower proliferated nearly overnight,
cuz smattering yesterdays ago
Taraxacum officinale, the German "lowenzahn"
(which means "lion's tooth"),
and French "pissenlit"
Ligules the yellow “petals” of dandelion flower
carpeted the lawn, and quickly regenerated
soon after landscaping crew cut the grass.

A dandelion seed is the plant's mature fruit,
known as a cypsela to botanists,
and its parachute-like structure
known as a pappus.

The pappus develops
as calyx of each floret dries and matures.

There are usually 150-200 seeds per flower
and up to 10 flowers per plant.

Seeds can be dispersed long distances
by wind because they move in updrafts,
yet upon making landfall
scant number squarely take root.
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